Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire novel Chapter 83

Chapter 83

Hannah’s POV

Billionaire

In that moment, clarity washed over me like cold water. I had been naive to think I could pull Finn out of this darkness. If anything, he would pull me down into his hell. The people surrounding me weren’t just rich partiers–they were predators,

and I had willingly walked into their territory.

A blonde man grabbed my collar, yanking it open slightly, and dropped an ice cube down my shirt. The shock of cold against my skin made me gasp.

“Let’s cool her down a bit first,” he laughed, reaching for another ice cube.

Something snapped inside me. I swung my hand hard, connecting with his cheek with a sharp crack that silenced the chanting. The blonde man staggered back, his hand flying to his face, eyes wide with shock.

The party fell silent again, all eyes moving between me and the man I had just slapped. His expression morphed from surprise to rage, his alcohol–fueled anger building as he raised his hand to retaliate.

Before he could strike, something flashed through the air–a small fruit knife, spinning end over end until it embedded itself with precision into the blonde man’s palm. He screamed, blood spurting onto the white deck floor. Chaos erupted as people scrambled away from the sudden violence.

Istood frozen, watching the blonde man clutch his bleeding hand, his howls of pain cutting through the panicked shouts around us. My eyes darted to Finn, whose position hadn’t changed, though a small smile played at the corner of his lips. The fruit knife that had embedded itself in the blonde man’s hand had been on a platter right in front of Finn just seconds

earlier.

The knife twisted deep into the blonde man’s palm, his eyes wide with shock and pain. I grabbed the handle and yanked it out with one swift motion. Blood immediately spurted from the wound, splattering across my face and white sundress like crimson paint on a blank canvas.

The man’s scream pierced through the yacht’s ambient music, his face contorting in agony. Something primal took over me then–perhaps the culmination of all the humiliation, the fear, the ice cubes still melting against my skin.

I grabbed the champagne bottle from the table and swung it hard against his head. The impact made a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the deck in a heap, unconscious.

The partygoers froze, cocktails suspended midway to their lips, conversations dying in their throats. Brian’s eyes darted As between me and Finn, who remained seated at the table, unnaturally still.

Finn sat with perfect composure, sunglasses hiding his eyes, his expression unreadable behind that dark barrier. One corner of his mouth twitched slightly upward—not quite a smile, more like the acknowledgment of an unexpected

no

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Chapter 82

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I finished wiping away the last trace of lipstick. “I just thought it would be better to wait until you were… less occupied.”

Finn stood abruptly, towering over me. His cold gaze swept across the stunned party guests, who kept their distance but remained eagerly watching the unfolding drama. No one dared approach after what they’d just witnessed, but their eyes

gleamed with morbid curiosity.

Without acknowledging the crowd, Finn turned to one of the nervous staff members hovering nearby. “Bring ice. Lots of it,” he commanded, his voice carrying easily across the suddenly quiet deck.

The staff scrambled to obey, returning with buckets of ice. Under Finn’s direction, they laid out a path of ice cubes across

the deck, creating a frozen trail about ten feet long.

“Walk this path barefoot,” Finn said to me, his voice casual as if he were asking me to pass the salt. “Do that, and I’ll consider your request about the board.”

I stared at the ice in disbelief. “No, I can’t. I’m pregnant, remember? This is dangerous.”

His smile was cold. “Since when does ‘no‘ work in the Sterling household, Hannah?”

Before I could respond, several party guests who had lingered nearby approached us. Two women and a man, all clearly

intoxicated, surrounded me.

“Come on, it’s just a little ice,” one woman slurred, grabbing my arm.

“Sterling wants you to walk the ice path,” the man added, his eyes glazed but intent. “It’s time to play.”

They began to push me toward the ice, hands pulling at my flat shoes. I struggled against them, looking desperately at Finn, who watched with an impassive expression.

“Please stop,” I said firmly, trying to twist away from their grasp.

“Walk the ice! Walk the ice!” The chant started among the remaining party guests, growing louder as more people joined

1. in.

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16:45 Wed, May 13 M.

Chapter 83

outcome.

“I need to clean up.” I muttered, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

No one moved to stop me as I made my way to the yacht’s bathroom, my legs trembling with each step. Once inside, I locked the door and slumped against it, my breath coming in short gasps. The mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized–blood speckled across my cheeks and forehead, my face streaked with sweat and tears I hadn’t realized I’d

shed.

I turned on the faucet and scrubbed at my face with trembling hands, watching the pink–tinged water swirl down the drain. After washing away the blood, I reached into my dress and pulled out the half–melted ice cubes the blonde man had stuffed there. They fell into the sink with a soft clink.

My white dress was a disaster–wet patches from the ice revealing more than I wanted, and crimson stains that would never come out. I tried to dry it with the hand dryer, the warm air making little difference against the dampness.

Looking back at my reflection, I saw my eyes were red–rimmed, fighting back the acidic sting of humiliation. Why had I come here? Why had I believed Victoria when she said this party would be an opportunity to get closer to Finn, to

understand his world?

When I finally emerged and made my way back to the party area, the scene had transformed. The space had been cleared, the guests gone. Only scattered ice cubes and a dark stain on the deck remained as evidence of what had happened. And Finn–still sitting exactly where I’d left him, his long fingers rhythmically tapping the table surface, seemingly lost in

thought.

I walked toward him, my hand raised. For a moment, I genuinely wanted to slap him for sitting there, for watching as that man assaulted me. But as I stood before him, my hand froze mid–air, then slowly lowered back to my side.

Finn tilted his head slightly. “Not going to hit me?” His voice was casual, as if asking about the weather.

“No,” I said softly. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I care about you too much.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Even when you’re being an

asshole.”

His eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. “That’s a new one.”

I shook my head, suddenly exhausted. “I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake.” I turned to leave. “I’m going

home.”

Running away again, Hannah?” His voice had an edge now.

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Chapter 83

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“Not running away. Just refusing to play a game where I don’t know the rules and everyone else seems intent on hurting

me.”

I left him sitting there and made my way to the yacht’s stern. The night felt cool against my damp skin. As I

contemplated how to get back to shore, movement near the water caught my eye.

At the lower deck, two security men had the blonde

an suspended over the water by a rope. His injured hand dangled in

the ocean, blood diffusing into the dark water like smoke. He was conscious now, his face twisted with fear as they

periodically lowered him further, allowing the salt water to burn his wound.

“He didn’t know who he was messing with,” Brian’s voice came from behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach. “Nobody

touches what belongs to a Sterling without consequences.”

I turned to look at him. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Brian’s laugh was short and hollow. “Keep telling yourself that.” He gestured toward the scene below. “But that’s what happens to people who don’t understand the hierarchy.” He leaned against the railing, watching the man’s punishment

with detached interest.

I watched the man struggle against his bonds, gasping for air between dunks. The security men’s faces remained impassive, as if they were simply carrying out a routine task.

“I don’t know him at all, do I?” I whispered, more to myself than to Brian.

“No one does.” Brian straightened his designer jacket. “That’s what makes him dangerous. That’s what makes him a

Sterling.”

Standing there, watching that man’s punishment and feeling nothing–not satisfaction, not horror, just emptiness–1 realized I could never be what Victoria wanted. I could never help Finn find his way back to normal, because normal didn’t

exist in this world. And maybe it never had.

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