My Billionaire Boyfriend Went Mad After I Left

---- Chapter 8 The chaos inside the castle hit a fatal fever pitch. 'The massive LED screen flickered, and a high-def surveillance video started playing. The watermark in the corner read: **St. Luke's Private Clinic, Zurich. WIP Ward. Three months ago.** In the footage, Seraphina-the woman who was always so frail in front of Julian that she needed him to feed her water-was wearing four-inch, red-bottomed Louboutins and swirling a glass of red wine. She wasn't just standing; she was dancing a passionate tango. Light on her feet, spinning and jumping. Where was the paralysis?

She laughed at her best friend on the other end of the camera, her voice amplified through the banquet hall's speakers. "Julian is such an idiot. He's so easy to trick." "All have to do is shed two tears and say my leg hurts, and he's desperate to lay the world at my feet to atone." "The doctor said my legs healed ages ago? Hah. As long as I don't stand up, he's just my dog. If I tell him to bite, he bites." A collective gasp swept through the room. At the head table, the 'Thorne family elders turned iron-gray, their canes slamming against the floor in fury. Julian stood frozen.

He turned his head mechanically to look at Seraphina in her wheelchair. Seraphina's face was white as a sheet. "No... that's not me... It's a deepfake! Elara framed me!"" ---- She waved her hands frantically, trying to block everyone's view, forgetting she was in a wheelchair. Her violent movements nearly tipped her over. But the judgment wasn't over. The screen shifted. It was the "destroyed" surveillance footage from the yacht five years ago. It was grainy, but digitally restored to show every detail clearly. I wasn't in the cockpit. Only Seraphina was there.

She looked manic, holding an exquisite lighter to the heavy velvet curtains. As the flames shot up, she smiled a bone-chilling smile at the camera. 'Then, she locked the door from the inside, took out her phone, started dialing 911, and instantly switched to a sobbing voice: "Help... Elara locked me in... Fire... Save me..." The truth was out. No bullying. No attempted murder. Just an accomplice who had been played for five years, driving an innocent man to his death in the process. *Crash.* Julian's crystal champagne flute slipped from his hand, shattering on the marble floor.

Red wine splashed onto his white trousers, looking just like the blood my father coughed up that rainy night. "Insurance fraud... arson... faking paralysis..." ---- Julian muttered, his voice trembling uncontrollably. His pride, his judgment, his so-called justice-it all crumbled into dust in that instant. He looked at Seraphina like he was looking at a monster, backing away step by step. "Stand up... You stand up!" 'Terrified by his expression, Seraphina instinctively tried to run. She actually stood up from the wheelchair and stumbled back a few steps! "ant Screams erupted from the guests.

A medical miracle. The victim "paralyzed" for five years stood straight in front of everyone. "Julian... let me explain... I did it because I love you so much..." Seraphina cried, reaching for his hand. "Get away from me!" Julian shoved her away. Hard. She flew backward, crashing heavily into the champagne tower. *Crash.* Hundreds of glasses came cascading down, turning the luxurious engagement party into a disaster zone. Julian ignored his fiancée lying in the broken glass. He ran like a madman to the "fake bride" still kneeling on the floor. "Where is Elara? Where is she?!

Tell me where she is!" 'The model was shaking. "I don't know... Miss Vance just gave me this dress..." 'Trembling, Julian pulled out his phone. His fingers seized up so badly he dialed the wrong number several times. ---- Finally, he connected. "sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service..." The cold mechanical voice was like a death sentence. In that moment, Julian's knees gave out. He fell heavily to the floor in front of the entire New York media. He finally understood. The woman who used to leave a light on for him, who treated him gently no matter how cold he was...

she was gone. Completely. In the deathly silence, the banquet hall doors opened. Aman ina FedEx uniform walked in, holding a black velvet box. He looked completely out of place. "Excuse me, who is Mr. Julian Thorne?" "This is a package Miss Elara Vance paid to have rush-delivered. She said it's your engagement gift." Hearing my name, Julian looked like a dying man grasping at a straw. He scrambled over and snatched the box, "Blara... it's from Elara.." A frantic hope lit up his eyes. He tore open the packaging with trembling hands. If she was sending a gift, there was still a chance, right?

But the moment the lid opened, the light in Julian's eyes died out completely. Inside lay two things.