Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire novel Chapter 89

16:46 Wed, May 13

1. JM.

Heaven or Hell: Loving My Twisted Billionaire

Chapter 89

Hannah’s POV

I steady myself under Finn’s weight as we enter the grand living room of Sterling Manor. His arm is draped heavily across my shoulders, his breathing deliberately labored and warm against my neck.

The fake blood–a mixture of makeup and theatrical paint we’d carefully applied earlier–has soaked through the makeshift bandages on his arm, staining my white dress with convincing crimson patterns. It looks remarkably real, exactly as we’d planned. The entire room falls silent as we step in, all eyes locked on us, completely fooled by our performance.

“Let me help you to the sofa,” I say, injecting just enough concern into my voice to sound genuine while mentally running through the next steps of our plan.

Finn makes a noncommittal grunt but allows me to guide him to the nearest plush sofa. As he sinks into the cushions, I turn to face Sophia and her assistant, who are huddled together on the opposite couch, looking shaken but otherwise unharmed. Time for my first calculated move.

“Ms. Sophia, I’m so relieved you’re unharmed,” I say, adding just enough sweetness to my voice to make it sound insincere. “It would have been such a tragedy if something happened to you, especially after Finn nearly lost his life trying to save

you.”

The silence that follows is exactly what I anticipated. Sophia’s face drains of color, and her assistant shifts uncomfortably beside her. The Sterling family members scattered around the room exchange puzzled glances. First seed of doubt, successfully planted.

Finn lounges back on the sofa, sunglasses hiding his eyes, but I can tell he’s enjoying this. The slight curl at the corner of his mouth shows he appreciates how smoothly our charade is unfolding.

The heavy double doors burst open again right on cue, and Victoria rushes in with Jonathan Sterling shuffling behind her, assisted by a nurse. Victoria’s timing is impeccable–we’d synchronized our watches earlier.

“Finn!” Victoria cries out, hurrying to his side with a performance worthy of an Oscar. Her face contorts with what appears to be genuine concern as she examines his wounds. “My God, you’re bleeding through the bandages. What were you thinking, risking yourself like this?”

I watch as Victoria’s fingers quickly and discreetly smear something purple–black around the edges of Finn’s fake wounds, making them appear worse. For a brief moment, our eyes meet, and I catch her suppressing a laugh at how ridiculous this all is. I maintain my solemn expression, though inwardly I’m appreciating her theatrical skills.

“I’m not dead,” Finn replies flatly, jerking his arm away from her touch. “Back off.”

Victoria straightens up, recovering her composure instantly, and turns to address the room. “My grandson has always been

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16:46 Wed, May 13

Chapter 89

1. JM.

reckless when it comes to family. Even as a child…” Her voice breaks with calculated emotion. “To think he would put himself in such danger to rescue Sophia and her assistant…”

“Wait a minute,” one of the board members interrupts, a tall man with silver streaked hair. “Ms. Miller specifically said they were taken by men in black clothing. Are you suggesting…”

Victoria waves her hand dismissively. “What men in black? Anyone can dress in dark clothes and put on sunglasses. Does that automatically make them part of some shadowy organization?“

I keep my face carefully arranged in an expression of concern while mentally checking off each point in our plan. The tension in the room thickens as Victoria continues, her voice growing sharper. “What connection could these supposed kidnappers possibly have to my grandson? He was nearly killed trying to save Sophia!”

William steps forward, his eyes cold as they fix on Finn. “Is that true? Did you nearly get yourself killed saving your father’s girlfriend?”

Finn doesn’t respond, following our script perfectly. Instead, he pulls out his phone and checks something, completely ignoring his father’s question.

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