The Billionaire's Weapon of Revenge

Chapter 3 – Hidden Corridor and Secrets

The secret corridor was cold and narrow, its stone walls damp to the touch. Michelle moved forward, her breathing uneven, still shaken by the gunshots that had rattled the house. Behind her, Zavier walked calmly, even though the tension around him felt sharp enough to cut the air.

"Where are we going, Zavier?" Michelle asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"We're heading to the basement. It's the safest place for now," Zavier replied in a flat tone.

Michelle turned her head, giving him a suspicious look. "Who attacked your house?"

"Our house, now," Zavier corrected, his gaze steady on hers. "And the answer: someone who isn't happy about you being by my side."

Michelle abruptly stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

Zavier also stopped. In the dim light of the corridor, his face looked different—more human, more exhausted. "You're not just the heir to Anderson Group, Michelle. You're the key that’s making a lot of people nervous. And marrying you... has made them even more desperate."

Michelle shook her head slowly. "You married me to protect me... or to make them panic?"

For the first time, Zavier didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at her in silence, then finally sighed.

"I married you because you're the only person brave enough not to kneel when the world tried to break you," he said quietly. "And because I know, sooner or later... you will be a threat to them."

Michelle lowered her head, her chest tightening at his words—a mixture of fear, pride, and something else she couldn't name yet. But before she could ask more, Zavier grabbed her hand.

"Come on," he said firmly. "We don’t have much time."

***

The basement looked like a secret agent’s hideout. Full of monitors, hidden weapons, and glowing digital maps. Michelle stood frozen in the middle of it, feeling like she had stepped into an action movie.

Zavier grabbed a long coat and draped it over Michelle’s shoulders when he noticed her shivering from the cold air.

"You're shaking," he said briefly.

Michelle looked up at him and whispered, "You know... sometimes I feel like a pawn you're moving around on a giant chessboard."

Zavier stared straight at her. "And you think I don’t feel guilty for that?"

For a moment, the room fell silent. Then Zavier walked closer, very close. His hand gently touched Michelle’s pale cheek, his fingers cold yet somehow warm at the same time.

"If I could choose, I would protect you without dragging you into this," he whispered. "But I can’t."

Michelle’s heart pounded. "Then... what would you do if I chose to leave?"

"The world would crush you, Michelle," Zavier answered without hesitation. "And I won’t let that happen."

His voice was deep, sincere, but also sounded like both a confession and a warning. Michelle took a shaky breath, torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to hug him.

Before her emotions could explode, one of the monitors suddenly showed a man’s face—with a long scar across his temple.

"He’s back," said Dante, suddenly appearing from a side door. "Leonard Bryce. He’s the one who led the attack tonight."

Zavier nodded. "And he only attacks when there’s important information. Which means—"

"—there's a traitor inside this house," Michelle finished, half questioning, half stating.

Zavier turned to Michelle, a look of admiration flashing in his eyes. "Exactly."

He then looked at Dante. "Then find out who the traitor is. You know what to do after that, right?"

Dante nodded sharply. "Understood."

***

After the discussion, Zavier led Michelle to his private room in the east wing of the house. The room felt warm, filled with the scent of wood and coffee—very different from the rest of the house, which felt more like a museum.

"Why are you bringing me here?" Michelle asked suspiciously.

Zavier unbuttoned the top of his shirt and sat on the couch. "Because if we want to win, we need to start trusting each other. And trust... starts by getting to know one another."

Michelle stared at him for a moment, then slowly sat on the chair across from him. "Alright. Then I want to know... why do you have files about my mother?"

Zavier fell silent for a few seconds. "Your mother was the smartest woman I ever faced. She could have been my greatest enemy... but she chose to disappear early on to protect you."

Michelle gripped the armrest tightly. "What do you mean?"

Zavier turned his body slightly, his gaze serious. "There was a secret contract between your father, my family, and the Bryces. Katty knew something that could destroy them all. But she... chose to hide it so you wouldn’t become a target from childhood."

Michelle bit her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes.

"So... all of this is the inherited sin from the past?"

"No," Zavier answered softly. "It’s an inheritance of power—if you know how to use it."

Michelle looked down. "I don’t know who to trust."

Zavier stood up and walked toward her. His hand gently lifted Michelle’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Trust me. Not because I’m perfect, but because I’m the only one who will still stand by your side even when the world falls apart."

And somehow, for the first time, Michelle didn’t feel afraid.

She simply closed her eyes... and let her lips touch Zavier’s, briefly but deeply.

Not because it was love—at least not yet.

But because in the middle of the coming storm, they both needed something—anything—to hold on to.

Even if it was just a brief moment of sincerity.

***

The next morning, Michelle woke up earlier than usual. She found Zavier sitting by the fireplace with a cup of coffee and a tablet in his hand.

"Did you sleep well?" Zavier asked without looking up.

"Enough," Michelle replied, walking closer. "How about you?"

Zavier turned and gave a small smile. "No one can sleep peacefully when his wife steals a kiss at midnight."

Michelle chuckled. "But... you seemed to enjoy it."

Zavier stood and approached her. "I guess... I enjoy your courage even more."

They stood in silence for a moment before a notification sound broke the moment. Zavier opened the message, and suddenly his face turned serious.

"Someone wants to see you," he said.

"Who?" Michelle asked.

Zavier stared straight at her. "Isabella. Your stepmother."

Michelle froze. "For what? Don't plan anything bad, Zavier."

Zavier shrugged lightly. "I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure—I’ll be with you when you meet her."

***