My Billionaire Fiancée Hurt My Son… Then I Discovered She Murdered His Mother

The sickening snap of Serena’s wrist echoed through the shattered kitchen.

Serena let out a high-pitched, agonizing scream as Victor wrenched her backward, throwing her across the marble floor like a ragdoll. She slammed hard against the base of the broken glass wall, gasping for air, clutching her broken arm to her chest.

Lily collapsed onto the counter, coughing violently, drawing ragged breaths into her bruised lungs.

Victor didn't even look down at the shotgun in his hands. He walked slowly toward Serena, towering over her like an angel of retribution. His face was completely devoid of mercy.

“You will never speak my wife’s name again,” Victor said, each word vibrating with absolute finality. “You will never lay eyes on my son again.”

Serena lay on the broken glass, sobbing in pain and fury. She looked up at Victor, her voice cracking into a desperate whimper. “Victor… Victor, please… you loved me once! You proposed to me! We were going to build an empire together!”

“I proposed to a lie,” Victor replied coldly. “The woman I loved was Claire. You were nothing more than a parasite that infected my family.”

Outside, the heavy thrum of twin-engine military helicopters shook the safe house. Powerful floodlights beamed down from the sky, bathing the shattered living room in blinding white light.

The iron doors were breached from the outside as Marcus and a full company of Blackwood private security forces swarmed the room, weapons raised, securing every entrance within five seconds.

“Clear!” Marcus shouted, stepping over the downed mercenaries. He walked over to Victor, his weapon lowered. “State police and federal marshals have surrounded the perimeter, sir. The remaining Vance safe houses have all been raided. It’s completely over.”

Victor nodded slowly. He stepped back from Serena, looking at Marcus.

“Hand her over to the federal marshals,” Victor commanded. “Ensure she is placed on maximum suicide watch. I want her to live a very long, very healthy life inside a windowless cell.”

Two tactical officers hauled Serena to her feet. She thrash-kicked against their grip, screaming curses, spitting blood onto the floor, but nobody listened. She was dragged out into the blinding glare of the spotlights, her voice finally drowned out by the roar of the helicopter rotors.

Victor turned around and rushed back to the kitchen island.

Lily was sitting against the cabinet, holding an ice pack against her bruised neck. When she saw Victor approaching, she let out a shaky breath and tried to stand, but her knees gave out.

Victor caught her easily in his arms, lifting her effortlessly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” Victor murmured, his voice softening into pure warmth. “It’s over, Lily. It’s truly over.”

Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder as the adrenaline finally left her body. She began to cry—not out of fear, but from the overwhelming wave of relief that washed over her soul.