Surprise Marriage to a Billionaire
Chapter 433: Fogotten

Chapter 433: Fogotten

William’s face turned a deep shade of red as he ended the call, frustration radiating off him.

"What happened, son?" his father asked with growing concern. All eyes were fixed on him, waiting.

William let out a sharp breath. "The Clayton’s Ancestral Mansion is on fire! That Tim... he’ll really go to any length. I won’t be surprised if he’s trying to fake his own death."

"But we’ve been discreet," Sanya said, confused. "We made sure he wouldn’t know we were onto him."

William ran a hand down his face, tense. "Damn. I have to go-"

Before he could push away from the table, Sanya grabbed his wrist firmly.

"Sit down and eat first," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You already have men monitoring the situation. It’s not like you’ll run into the fire yourself to look for Tim. And look at you, you’re already losing weight!"

William gulped under her glare, caught off guard by her motherly scolding.

"Sanya’s right, son," his father added, nodding. "You’ve done your part. Let the team on the ground handle it. You need to take care of yourself, too."

Reluctantly, William sat back down, still tense but obedient. He took his utensils again and began eating, though his mind clearly wasn’t on the food.

As soon as the last bite was done, he excused himself and pulled out his phone, already dialing.

Calls had to be made. Plans adjusted. And if Tim was trying to vanish... William would make sure there was nowhere left for him to hide.

*****

At Clayton Ancestral Mansion

Smoke curled through the broken glass of the second-floor window as flames licked the old wooden beams of the Clayton Ancestral Mansion. Tim Clayton stood just beyond the reach of the fire, a heavy coat draped over his shoulders and a mask covering his face, not just to block the smoke, but to conceal his identity.

He watched the fire with a blank expression.

"Just a little longer," he muttered, turning away from the crackling flames. He walked briskly toward the black car waiting a few meters down the private road, hidden behind thick trees.

The mansion was a symbol of everything... the history of the Claytons, the reputation he once built, the lies he had to bury. But now, it was nothing more than a distraction, a smokescreen, literally.

He got into the backseat of the car and shut the door.

"They’ll think I was inside," he told the man in the driver’s seat.

"You sure this’ll fool them?" the driver asked, keeping his eyes forward.

Tim’s lips curled into a smirk. "They’re too careful to assume I’m dead without a body. But it buys us time. The focus shifts. They’ll look into the fire, the cause, and try to connect the dots while I disappear from the board."

He pulled out a burner phone and tapped out a message to one of his remaining loyal men still inside the hospital, posing as a nurse. "Status on Carla?" he asked.

Seconds later, a reply:

Stable. Treatment begins tomorrow. William is guarding her like a hawk.

Tim’s expression darkened.

"They’re preparing to drag me into a trial. Fools. They don’t understand who they’re dealing with."

The driver started the engine. "Where to now?"

Tim looked out the tinted window, the orange glow of the burning house reflecting in his eyes.

"South," Tim ordered coldly. "I need to speed up the plans. Carla is our priority. I want her back, no matter what." His voice dropped into a growl, teeth gritted with frustration.

His right-hand man, seated in the passenger seat, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "What about Dina?"

Tim’s expression twisted with disdain. "That fool has caused enough damage."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp and voice cutting like a blade.

"She’s a liability now. Just like her mother was." The car fell into a tense silence as the weight of his words settled in.

"I want her gone," he finished flatly. "Make it clean. No mistakes this time."

"And Rico Alvarez?" his right-hand man asked cautiously.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, still locked on the city lights flickering through the tinted window. "Keep that one alive," he said firmly. "He knows what he needs to do."

There was a pause before he added, "Also, get Renzo out of prison. That man’s loyal. He’ll do anything for my daughter."

His voice softened, but his gaze turned hard as steel.

"I already lost Lydia," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. "I won’t lose the only piece of her I have left... and that’s Carla."

As the car rolled through the city, Tim’s thoughts drifted back to when it all began.

Back when things were still fine between him and Lydia. Before Arlan Cartier came into the picture and ruined everything.

She used to smile at him... genuine, soft, and full of dreams. Back then, he was enough for her. Or at least, he thought he was. They had plans. A life away from the shadows of their families.

He remembered how she’d hum to herself while organizing old books in his father’s study, how her fingers would linger on the spines like each story mattered. She used to tell him all of her dreams and future plans. But then Arlan showed up. The charming, well-mannered general who momentarily took Lydia off her feet...

Lydia began to change. Slowly. Quietly. Her smiles grew distant. Her touch colder.

And one day, she simply said she needed space. That maybe they wanted different things.

’Different things?’

He gave her everything. She was his everything.

Tim’s grip tightened on the armrest as he stared at the road ahead. He lost Lydia because of Arlan. That fact gnawed at Tim every single day.

While he was left behind, broken, betrayed, and drowning in misery... Arlan was smiling. Smiling like he didn’t steal the only woman Tim ever loved. Smiling like he hadn’t destroyed a man’s entire world and walked away untouched.

Tim clenched his jaw, his nails digging into his palms.

Lydia didn’t just leave. She died, almost with his child in her womb. Alone. Suffering. And worst of all... forgotten. No justice. No accountability.

Arlan got to live. To thrive. To raise his family like nothing had happened.

"He took her from me," Tim whispered to himself, his voice low and bitter. "And I will make him pay and suffer."

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