Living With The Billionaire’s Heirs Chapter 9

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???? Living With The Billionaire’s Heirs: ❣️

????(Four Heirs, One Heart…)????

Emma lay in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as the events of the previous day replayed in her mind like a haunting nightmare. It was Sunday, a day that should have brought some peace, but all she felt was a deep, suffocating dread. The realization that she belonged to Chris that there was no escaping him left her feeling trapped and helpless.

She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the weight of her thoughts. Deciding to make herself something to eat, Emma got up and quietly left her room. As she stepped into the hallway, she saw Nathan, but the sight of him only deepened her despair. She didn’t have the energy to talk to him, to pretend that everything was okay when it was far from it.

“Emma,” Nathan called out to her, but she ignored him, heading straight to the kitchen. She was sick of the Millers sick of everything that had brought her to this point. If only she could turn back time, she would have never come to this university, never gotten involved with Chris and his family.

“Emma,” Nathan called again, his voice more insistent this time. His persistence snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm,” she finally responded, her voice hollow. But before she could escape, Nathan grabbed her hand, pulling her to face him. His eyes widened with concern and anger as he noticed the bruises on her neck bruises left by Chris.

“Who did this to you?” Nathan demanded, his voice trembling with barely contained fury.

Emma looked at him, her heart aching with the truth she didn’t want to speak. “Ask your brother Chris,” she said bitterly before pulling away and retreating to her room, slamming the door behind her.

She barely had a moment to catch her breath when the door swung open again. Her heart leaped in her chest as she saw Chris standing there, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Fear coursed through her veins as she shivered involuntarily.

“Babe,” Chris said softly, stepping into the room. Emma swallowed hard, her body trembling. “Come here,” he ordered, and Emma immediately obeyed, rushing to his side. He pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her neck as if the violent act he’d committed against her had never happened.

“I missed you,” Chris whispered, his breath hot against her skin. Emma shivered, not from warmth, but from the icy fear that gripped her. “Did you miss me?” he asked, and Emma quickly nodded, desperate to keep him calm.

“Words, babe,” Chris demanded, his voice gentle but laced with danger.

“Y-yes,” Emma stuttered, forcing the word out through trembling lips.

Chris smiled, satisfied with her response, and placed a soft kiss on her lips before leading her back to her bed. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “We’re all going home tonight. We’ll be back tomorrow evening.”

Emma nodded, her mind racing with questions she didn’t dare ask.

“You can’t go to school tomorrow. Wait for me,” Chris instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” Emma began, but Chris cut her off sharply.

“Do as I say,” he snapped, and Emma quickly nodded again.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Chris’s smile returned as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll be going now. Take care,” he said, turning to leave. But just as he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to her, his expression darkening. The joy that had been in his eyes moments ago vanished, replaced by cold, menacing fury.

“Whatever happens between us stays between us,” Chris warned, his voice low and threatening. “If you tell any of my brothers, I promise there will be more bruises.”

Fear gripped Emma’s heart as she watched him walk away, leaving her alone in the room. The moment he was gone, tears spilled from her eyes as she collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She knew then that she was completely and utterly trapped, with no hope of escape.

••••••••••

MILLERS MANSION

Leo sat at the far end of the dining table, his chest tightening with every breath he took. The room was filled with the sounds of clinking silverware, laughter, and conversation none of which included him. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if it were pressing down on him, squeezing out any will to engage. His plate remained untouched in front of him, the food a cruel reminder of how out of place he felt here.

His parents had orchestrated this dinner, as they often did, to remind him of his place an outsider within his own family. They didn’t need to say it outright; their every action, every glance, conveyed the message clearly. He was tolerated, not wanted.

Chris, the golden child, reveled in these moments. Leo could feel Chris’s eyes on him, burning with a mix of contempt and amusement. It was only a matter of time before he made his move.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Chris’s voice sliced through the air, dripping with mock concern.

Leo stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the tablecloth, tracing its intricate patterns as if they held the answers to questions he’d long stopped asking. Nathan, the only one who might have stood up for him, began to speak, but their father’s glare silenced him instantly. There would be no allies here.

The silence stretched, Chris’s frustration mounting with each passing second. When Leo refused to respond, it pushed Chris over the edge.

“Why do you keep looking down on us?” Chris shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

Leo slowly stood up, feeling the weight of the room’s hostility pressing down on him. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to give Chris the satisfaction of seeing him hurt.

“I’m allergic to crawfish and garlic,” he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion, before turning and walking away from the table. The room buzzed with whispers as he left, but he didn’t care. He knew they wouldn’t care about his allergies or his well-being. They never did.

As Leo reached his room, he collapsed onto the floor, his hands brushing against the cold tiles. Beneath this very floor, she had been chained. The memory was like a knife twisting in his gut, a constant reminder of his helplessness. He closed his eyes, and a single tear slipped down his face, the only outward sign of the storm raging inside him.

He had tried to run away so many times as a child, each attempt ending in brutal punishment. The desire to escape, to be free, was something he had never outgrown, even though he knew the consequences all too well.

As exhaustion began to take over, and sleep beckoned, the door to his room creaked open. Leo didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Bastard,” Chris sneered, stepping into the room.

Leo remained still, lying on his bed, eyes half-closed. He was too tired for this, too tired for the endless cycle of hate and pain.

“I want you to leave this country,” Chris said, his voice tinged with something darker, more dangerous than usual.

Leo finally sat up, confused knitting his brows together. He stared at Chris, trying to decipher his brother’s intentions, but Chris’s expression was unreadable, a mask of controlled fury.

“Don’t fucking think I don’t know that Emma slept in your room,” Chris shouted, his face contorted with rage. Leo’s eyes widened in shock. Chris’s anger was palpable, filling the room with a suffocating intensity. He wanted to lash out, to hurt someone, anyone, but instead, he turned his fury on Leo.

“I should tell her,” Chris continued, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “I should tell her everything. But she’s so scared of me… It’s pathetic.”

Chris’s words hung in the air, heavy with the twisted logic of someone who loved too much and too violently. He loved Emma, or at least he thought he did. But his love was a poison, a suffocating force that sought to control and possess rather than cherish.

The memory of the time she stabbed his hand with a fork flashed in his mind. It had hurt, but it was that moment he knew he wanted her. She was feisty, fiery, and he craved that spark in her. But the fear in her eyes when she looked at him was something he both hated and needed. It kept her obedient, kept her his.

Chris’s obsession with Emma was consuming him, turning his love into something dark and twisted. The thought of her belonging to someone else was unbearable, and it drove him to hurt her, even though he despised himself for it. He knew Emma was slowly falling for Leo, he’d seen the way she looked at him. It drove him mad with jealousy. Thankfully, Leo was too blind to notice.

“Get out of this country and don’t return for three years,” Chris ordered, his voice laced with desperation. This was more than just a command; it was a plea to keep the fragile balance of his world intact.

“Dad—” Leo began, but Chris cut him off.

“I’ll handle Dad. I’ve already arranged everything—the mansion, your school transfer. Just don’t come back for three years,” Chris said, his tone softening slightly as if this was some kind of twisted favor.

Leo knew that leaving was what he wanted, to escape the nightmare this house had become. But at the same time, fear gnawed at him, fear for her. Could he really leave her behind?

“And I’ll make sure no one hurts her,” Chris added, sensing Leo’s hesitation. “But if you dare come back before the three years are up, I’ll make her suffer in ways you can’t even imagine.”

The threat was clear, and Leo nodded, resigned. As long as she was safe, as long as she could breathe freely for the next three years, he could endure this exile.

“Okay,” Leo agreed quietly, rising from the bed and heading to his wardrobe. He began packing his clothes, his movements mechanical, his mind numb.

“Don’t think I’m doing this for you,” Chris spat, watching him. “This is for my own selfish reasons. I still hate you more than you can ever imagine, you bastard.”

Leo didn’t respond. He simply continued packing, his thoughts elsewhere, focused on the future, on the day he would return stronger, wiser, ready to reclaim everything he had lost.

“Your flight is in 30 minutes,” Chris informed him, his voice distant, as if he was already thinking about something else.

Leo paused, his hand hovering over the last of his clothes. “Can I see her one last time?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chris’s response was immediate and final. “No.”

It was the answer Leo had expected, but it still cut deep. He hadn’t seen her since he was seven years old, and now, he might not see her for another three years.

With a heavy heart, Leo grabbed his luggage and made his way downstairs. The car was already waiting for him, the engine idling like a beast ready to devour him. He took one last look at the house a place that had never been a home, more like a prison, a torture chamber.

As the car pulled away, Leo felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. He was finally leaving, escaping this hell. But the thought of not taking her with him, of leaving her behind in this place, was almost too much to bear.

But he had no choice. He had to go, for her sake, and for his own.

The road stretched out before him, leading him away from everything he had ever known. But as he looked out the window, a single thought kept echoing in his mind:

He would come back. And when he did, everything would be different.

••••••••

MONDAY EVENING

Emma had just finished her phone call with Laila, sitting alone in the quiet of the living room. The conversation had been a brief distraction, but her mind was still on Leo. She hadn’t seen him all day, and a sense of unease was gnawing at her.

Just then, Nathan, Alex, and Chris walked in. They looked exhausted, their faces shadowed with weariness. Nathan seemed especially downcast, avoiding eye contact as he quickly left the room without a word. Emma’s heart sank at the sight of him, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Alex immediately collapsed onto the couch, too tired to say anything, and within moments, he was fast asleep. Emma’s eyes darted around, searching for Leo, but he was nowhere to be seen. A cold chill ran down her spine.

“Umm, where’s Leo?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. She didn’t want to upset Chris, but she needed to know.

Chris’s eyes darkened as he stared at her. “He left the country,” he said flatly.

Emma’s heart stopped. “What do you mean, he left the country?” she shouted, her voice breaking as she struggled to hold back tears.

“He’s not coming back for three years,” Chris snapped, his tone laced with irritation. “Why are you even bothered?”

Emma felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. She couldn’t breathe. The pain in her chest was unbearable, and she knew exactly why she loved Leo. It had only been a week since she’d been here, but somehow, in that short time, her heart had attached itself to him in a way she couldn’t explain.

Ignoring Chris’s presence, she turned and ran to her room, tears streaming down her face. She slammed the door shut behind her and collapsed onto her bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

“No, no, no,” she cried into her pillow. The thought of not seeing Leo for three years was more than she could bear. Even though he was so cold to her and ignored her , all she had to do was just stare at him and that was enough.

She was so lost in her grief that she didn’t hear Chris enter the room. He walked over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Shhh,” Chris whispered into her ear. “You’re mine now. I have you all to myself.”

Emma’s body stiffened in his arms, and she immediately pulled away, staring at him in disbelief.

“You did this,” she accused, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger.

Chris didn’t deny it. “Yes,” he said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. There was no guilt in his voice, only satisfaction. “You’re mine now, Emma. And you’d better stop those feelings you have for him, because YOU, EMMA, BELONG TO ME.”

A psychotic smile spread across his face as he said it, his eyes gleaming with a possessive madness that sent shivers down her spine.

“You’re crazy,” Emma whispered, backing away from him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Yes, Emma, I am,” Chris admitted, taking a step closer to her, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m crazy for you, and I’ll have you, whether you like it or not. YOU BELONG TO CHRIS MILLER,” he declared, his eyes locked onto hers, his voice a chilling promise.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered the final word, “FOREVER.”

TBC…

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