Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 973

Dean finally pushed himself up from the sofa, moving slow, almost reluctant, but his bloodshot eyes never left the TV for a second. On the screen, Emmy stood under the bright stage lights, holding her trophy. Her smile was gentle, soft, but she looked so far away, so out of reach.

“Emmy… I’ll come back,” Dean whispered. “Wait for me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, his whole expression turned icy cold. He flicked open his metal lighter, the sound sharp in the tense silence. The flame leapt up, and without a hint of hesitation, he tossed the lighter over his shoulder.

In an instant, the pile of accelerant caught fire. The flames burst out, wild and hungry, tearing through the expensive rug and curtains. Heat roared through the room.

Two bodyguards moved fast, dragging a limp, unconscious body onto the center of the sofa. The man wore one of Dean’s favorite custom suits. He was almost the same height and build, with facial features eerily similar to Dean’s.

“Let’s go!” one of the bodyguards urged.

Dean glanced back one last time at the TV, Emmy’s image flickering behind the flames, then turned and disappeared into a hidden passage.

They sprinted through a patch of dense forest, ducking into an abandoned entrance buried in the bushes. It was an old sewage tunnel from the processing plant. The moment they set foot inside, the stench hit them. It was overwhelming, a mix of waste, chemicals, and something rotten.

Dean stopped short, stomach twisting. He was a clean freak to the point of obsession. Any other day, a speck of dust on his sleeve could ruin his mood. Now, thick, filthy water covered his ankles, splashing up onto his expensive pants. His face went paper white.

“Sir…” his assistant called softly, worry in his voice.

Dean’s jaw clenched, veins popping at his temples. He had no choice. If he wanted to live, if he ever wanted to see Emmy again, he had to keep moving. He closed his eyes, forced the bile back down, and stepped straight into the muck.

…

Back in the villa, the fire raged out of control. The wooden beams of the mansion cracked and exploded in the heat. Flames twisted across the sofa, swallowing the man lying there. The live broadcast on the TV vanished into the blaze.

Ten minutes later, the sound of helicopters thundered over Blackwood Island. Major General Carlos landed on the beach with a team of armed special forces. The whole villa was nothing but a massive fireball. The air was so hot, they couldn’t get closer than thirty feet.

He pointed at the corpse’s left wrist, nothing but charred bone and blackened skin. “There’s also a deep cut here, all the way to the bone, severing the radial artery. The reaction around the wound shows he was alive when it happened. He tried to kill himself before starting the fire.”

To confirm the identity, the expert pulled out a scan of Dean’s bones and began comparing it to the skull.

“Cranial measurements now,” he said, taking out calipers and rattling off numbers as he measured brow ridges, jaw angles, and cheekbones.

Finally, he set the tools down and nodded. “Based on skeletal analysis, the body matches Dean. Height around 183 centimeters, slim build, and the facial structure is a rare match. Especially the shape of the brow and nose. I’m confident. This is Dean.”

An officer started snapping photos from every angle for the records.

Carlos frowned, staring at the body. It couldn’t be this easy. James had ordered him to bring Dean in alive. Clearly, things had gotten completely out of hand.

“Why did the fire break out so suddenly?” Carlos asked, turning to the nearest investigator.