The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 495

Chapter 224: The Illusion of Control

Bill Franklin slowed as he approached the entrance of his estate, the memory of the matte-black SUVS still lingering at the edge of his thoughts. His eyes swept the perimet of instinct-gated driveway, hedges, shadows.

Nothing.

Just the long stretch of empty road and fading afternoon light.

Yet the silence didn’t feel normal. It pressed against him, heavy and wrong.

A cold prickle crept up his neck. He dismissed it at once.

Paranoia, he told himself. Nothing but the adrenaline of the chase.

Damien Blackwood didn’t waste time with noise. Whatever had followed him earlier wasn threat-it was enforcement. A silent command to fall back into place.

That thought steadied him.

Fine.

If they wanted him out, he would leave-but on his terms.

He continued toward the estate, forcing his shoulders to loosen.

But as he approached the massive front entrance, the air around him felt… wrong.

The silence of the grounds wasn’t peaceful-it was expectant, heavy with a stillness that fell manufactured. He shook his head, forcing the unease away. Just a phantom of his own overstimulated nerves, nothing more.

He pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner. The heavy oak door gave a sharp. clinical click as it unlocked, the sound echoing a heartbeat too long in the quiet

Inside, everything was still. Too still.

He frowned, glancing at his watch-just past 3:00 PM Right He wasnt supposed to be home for another five hours. The servants must have been on their mid afternoon luil or perhaps the house was just reacting to his uncharacteristic early arrival.

He didn’t think much of it, his mind was already busy weaving dark, sinister fantasies of retribution.

He exhaled as he walked further inside Of course, Trudy wouldn’t be around she rarely moved about the house during the day

fusion of Cond

There was nothing unusual here. Nothing at all. Control restored. Or so he believed

He walked straight to the mahogany bar in the study, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. He poured two fingers of amber whiskey, the ice clinking sharply against th He didn’t bother with a glass; he took the decanter and the tumbler to his favorite le armchair, sinking into the familiar, expensive grain. He kicked his feet up onto the o loosening his tie with a sigh of relief.

Then, he heard it.

A soft, rhythmic thud-drag, thud-drag coming from the foyer.

He squinted toward the hallway, his vision struggling to penetrate the shadows.

A figure rounded the corner-Trudy.

She was already dressed, not in anything casual, but in a structured coat. A sleek, carr suitcase rolled behind her.

Something about the sight made the air feel thin. Bill’s expression shifted, but only slig He studied her for a moment before letting out a faint, almost amused breath.

“Going somewhere, darling?”

Trudy didn’t stop. She didn’t offer a smile, or a greeting, or even the performative submissiveness he had come to expect. She reached the bottom step and stopped, her fixed on him.

The look on her face wasn’t the usual vacuous, glassy-eyed stare. It was sharp. It was col was, quite clearly, disgust.

Bill chuckled, undeterred by her silence. He gestured lazily, his arrogance swelling to fill the room. “Cat got your tongue? Well, honey, aren’t you glad I’m home so early? And tell the maids to prepare me a snack-I’m famished!”

Trudy didn’t move. She locked her eyes on him with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.

If looks could burn, he would already be ash.

Bill’s smirk vanished. “Are you deaf?! I said-”

“They’re gone,” Trudy cut him off.

Bill blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean, they’re gone?”

Trudy stood her ground-something entirely new. “I sent them all home.”

Chapter 224 The Illusion of Control

Bill clicked his tongue, annoyance radiating from him. “Tsk, whatever! Then you go m something to eat! Go! I’m hungry!”

Trudy didn’t flinch. Her gaze only sharpened.

“What are you still standing there for? Go!”

“No.”

The word hung in the air, defiant and absolute.

Bill slammed his tumbler onto the table and stood up in one fluid, aggressive motion, h face darkening with rage.

“… What did you just say?”

Trudy stepped closer.

“You heard me. I said, No.”

For the first time, Bill looked at her properly-not as decoration, not as background-but something unfamiliar.

“You ungrateful b-” He raised his hand, his fingers curling into a fist, ready to strike.

“Don’t you dare!” Trudy’s voice cracked like a whip.

Bill froze, his hand suspended in mid-air. The shock of her defiance held him back more th the threat itself; he had never seen this side of her, and the sudden shift in power left him momentarily paralyzed.

Bill’s jaw tightened.

“What is this? Some kind of tantrum?”

“No,” Trudy replied, calm as glass. “It’s divorce.”

The word hit the room like a cut.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers soon,” Trudy continued, her voice devoid of its usual tremor it was steady, cutting, and entirely devoid of emotion

“You’ll keep what you came in with,” she said. “And what you earned before this marriage. Everything after that belongs to me.”

Bill laughed-loud, sharp, almost relieved. “You can’t do that.”

Trudy matched his laugh, but hers was cold, devoid of humor. “Just in case you’ve forgotten. you are nothing without me. Your name, your status-it’s all a veneer I provided. I am stripping

you of everything, and you’ll be back to exactly who you were before you met me.”

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