The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 497

Chapter 226: The Point of No Return

The beating stopped, but the damage was already done. An eerie silence swallowed the room, broken only by Bill’s ragged breathing and the ringing in his ears.

He lay on the floor trembling, his pride completely stripped away-too broken to even move too stunned to fully process what had just happened.

Monroe stood over him in calm silence, as if nothing about the scene required urgency or emotion.

He simply watched Bill struggle to catch his breath, curled into a tight ball on the floor, bloo staining his clothes.

Then he stepped forward and crouched down, lowering himself to Bill’s level.

Monroe studied him for a moment before letting out a faint chuckle.

“Do you want to hear something funny, Mr. Franklin?”

Bill didn’t answer.

He remained curled on the floor, struggling to breathe through the pain. Every part of his bod ached. His ribs felt like they were on fire.

“It turns out your little affair wasn’t the most interesting thing we found.”

His smile widened slightly.

“As it happens, you had a lot more skeletons in your closet than anyone expected.”

Bill’s stomach twisted.

Monroe raised a hand.

One of the elite guards immediately stepped forward and placed a thick manila folder into his hand.

Monroe opened it and casually flipped through the contents.

“You really enjoyed the privileges that came with your position, didn’t you?”

He pulled out the first document

“$288,750.00. Two nights at the Burj Al Arab in Dubai.”

His eyes moved across the page.

Reported as accommodations for an executive conference.”

A pause.

“Except there was no conference. Just a romantic getaway with your mistress.”

Another page.

“$118,920. Dinner at Guy Savoy in Paris.”

Monroe looked amused.

“Reported as a client development meeting.”

He glanced down at Bill.

“Our investigation determined it was actually a birthday celebration with another woma

He flipped to the next document.

“Oh, this one’s impressive.”

“$623,000. Private golf resort package in Scotland.”

Another pause.

“Filed as a strategic networking retreat.”

Monroe closed the page.

“It turns out the only networking involved was with a casino hostess.”

Another sheet emerged.

“$347,800. Luxury yacht charter along the Amalfi Coast.”

His eyebrow rose slightly.

“Officially categorized as executive relationship building.”

A faint smile appeared.

“You spent the entire weekend with a social media influencer.”

Another page.

“$189,400. Presidential suite at The Plaza in New York.”

Monroe tapped the document.

“Claimed as accommodations during merger discussions.”

Original content from jobnib.com

He looked down at Bill.

“The merger discussions apparently involved champagne, shopping sprees, and yet ar mistress.”

The folder snapped shut.

For the first time, genuine panic flickered across Bill’s battered face.

Monroe noticed.

“And the the said quietly, “is the consequence of your own actions.”

“Fift ears of power,” Monroe said, straightening his coat as he turned toward the

d in an afternoon. Mr. Blackwood is showing you mercy by letting you walk aw ht push your luck.”

But another word, he turned and walked away.

Two security guards followed immediately behind him.

Their footsteps echoed through the ruined house, growing fainter with every second until the sound of the front door opening and closing finally broke the silence.

Then they were gone.

The door clicked shut, leaving him in the hollowed-out silence of his own home

Bill was left alone on the floor.

Bruised. Bloodied. Abandoned.

The once-pristine estate stretched around him in complete disarray, drawers hanging open, cabinets emptied, and entire sections the house stripped bare.

For the first time in over his success, or the longer felt like a symbol of his status,

It felt like a tomb.

Bill shifted on the floor, trying to push himself up, but his body didn’t respond the way he wanted it to. The pain was still sharp, but it wasn’t what made him still anymore-it was realization that no matter what he said next, nothing here was going to bend for him aga

His rage, once a fire that burned at his ego, cooled into something denser.

He didn’t think about Damien Blackwood.

He didn’t think about Nicholas Ashcroft.

He didn’t think about Monroe or the guards who had left him broken on the floor.

He didn’t even think about his wife.

Those people were beyond his reach.

No.

His mind settled on only one name.

Brandy Martinez.

She was the infection. She was the one who had brought the chaos to his door, the one wh had forced his hand.

In the wreckage of his life, something cold and sharp finally took hold.

If his life was over, then Brandy Martinez would not walk away from it alive.