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The Slumdog Billionaire 28. The Italian Mafia
Chapter Twenty Eight *Boom doom krrrsk* Henry's fist connected with Zack's gut, hard. The impact made Zack buckle over instantly, gasping for air as he crumpled to the floor like a weakling. He groaned in pain, clutching his stomach, but before he could recover, Henry's face was already twisted with fury. "You ruined my life as a doctor," Henry seethed, standing over Zack with clenched fists. "And don't you ever dare insult my wife again." Zack, fueled by a mix of rage and humiliation, scrambled to his feet. "You think you can hit me?!" he spat, swinging wildly at Henry, but he was too slow. Henry easily sidestepped his weak attempt and retaliated with a brutal right hook that sent Zack stumbling back, his lip splitting open. Blood sprayed across Zack's face, staining his designer suit. “You're pathetic," Henry muttered under his breath as he delivered another punch to Zack's jaw, knocking out one of his teeth. The blood poured from Zack's mouth as he cried out in pain, d
The Slumdog Billionaire 29. The Powerful Boss
Chapter Twenty Nine Zack stumbled down the hallway, blood still trickling from his mouth, his body aching from the punches Henry had delivered. His mind was spinning, but one thought kept repeating in his head—Who the hell is Henry Knights? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. How could this “nobody” have the power to call in someone like Isabella? Someone with enough authority to fire a whole team of security without even breaking a sweat? Zack wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, his teeth clenched in rage. As he turned a corner, he spotted the security guards who had just been fired because of him. Their faces were red with anger, their fists balled as they gathered in a tight group, muttering amongst themselves. “What do you want?” Zack sneered, still trying to keep a shred of his dignity intact. One of the guards, a large man with tattoos snaking up his arms, stepped forward. His face was filled with fury. “You got us all fired, you piece of trash,” he
The Slumdog Billionaire 30. The Fake Birkin
Chapter Thirty Henry leaned back against the couch, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was time to set the final part of his plan into motion. He texted Mr. Anderson, his trusted confidant, to send in a dispatch rider with the clothes and bags he had picked out for Jasmine. “Make sure everything arrives on time, and add a little note that says ‘To my queen, from your loving husband. I can’t wait to see you shine.’” Henry smiled to himself as he hit send. He could already picture her face when she opened the gifts. After texting Anderson, he rose from the couch and made his way upstairs to their bedroom, where Jasmine was still sleeping soundly. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. Jasmine stirred, her eyelashes fluttering as she slowly opened her eyes. “Good morning, birthday girl,” Henry whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Jasmine blinked, still groggy but now fully awake. Before she could say a word, Henry started singing the familiar tune
The Slumdog Billionaire 31. The Sweet Virgin
Chapter Thirty One Henry held Jasmine's hand as they stepped out of the limousine and walked toward *The Garden of Eden.* It was unlike any place Jasmine had ever seen. The marble pathway shimmered under the soft sunlight, and exotic flowers adorned every corner. The air smelled sweet, a delicate mixture of jasmine and lavender that filled her senses. As they approached the entrance, the staff immediately greeted them with warm smiles, bowing slightly as they opened the tall golden doors for the couple. Jasmine’s eyes widened as she took in the beauty around her. The garden was like a scene out of a fairy tale. Fountains cascaded into clear pools, birds chirped in the trees, and the soft sound of a violin played in the distance. “This place is unreal,” she whispered in awe, her fingers tightening around Henry’s hand. Henry smiled, pleased with her reaction. “I wanted today to be special for you. You deserve nothing less.” They were guided to a private section of the garden, whe
The Slumdog Billionaire 32. Gold Digger
Chapter Thirty Two Henry shot out of bed, panic surging through him. Jasmine’s side of the bed was cold, and his heart pounded as he searched the house, calling her name. But she was nowhere to be found. No one seemed to know where she’d gone. His frustration grew as he moved from room to room. After what felt like hours, Henry gave up. He hurried into the bathroom, taking the fastest shower of his life. The cold water hitting his skin did little to calm his nerves. He threw on his clothes—simple, sharp, and ready for the day—and grabbed his phone. He dialed Anderson’s number, his fingers trembling as he waited for him to pick up. “Find her,” Henry barked the moment Anderson answered. “I don’t care how, but find her. I can’t lose her.” “I’m on it, sir,” Anderson replied coolly, already knowing the seriousness of the situation. Henry was about to rush out of the house when his phone buzzed again. It was Anderson. “Sir, we tracked her down. We used Elon Musk’s satellite, and
The Slumdog Billionaire 33.Break His Legs & Hands
Chapter Thirty Three The crowd gasped, whispers spreading like wildfire. Some were amused, others shocked, but all were intrigued. Damon basked in the attention, enjoying every moment of it. Even Jasmine’s brother, Jasper, was secretly pleased, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he watched the rumors take on a life of their own. Meanwhile, Henry had been helping with final preparations, oblivious to the rumors. That was until he overheard two women gossiping nearby. “Did you hear what Damon said? That Jasmine is just a gold digger, trading her virginity for contracts,” one of them snickered. “Yeah, poor Henry. What a joke,” the other one giggled. Henry froze. Rage bubbled up inside him, his fists clenching at his sides. He could feel his blood boiling as the words sank in. Damon was humiliating his wife—*his wife!*—in front of everyone. And for what? To boost his own ego? Henry had had enough. Without thinking, he dashed toward Damon, his footsteps heavy with purpose. His
The Slumdog Billionaire 34. Kneel Down & Apologize !
Chapter Thirty Four Henry snickered, his lips curling into a smile as he eyed the group of thugs advancing toward him. He could tell they thought they were intimidating. Tattoos, piercings, bulging muscles—they had the look, but looks weren't everything. He rolled his shoulders, subtly cracking his knuckles under his sleeve. No one knew this about him—not Jasmine, not even his closest friends. He could fight. Not just a couple of sloppy punches thrown in desperation. No, he used to be a boxer—a good one, too. That was how he made his money back in the day. Surviving with every jab and hook while getting through medical school on scholarship. He eyed the nine thugs, calculating. They were big, and that was their weakness. Big meant slow, obvious movements, glaring blind spots, and overconfidence. He could take them. He could beat them all senseless, leave them groaning on the pavement. But then his eyes flicked over to Jasmine, standing not far away. Her eyes were wide with worr
The Slumdog Billionaire 35. Spare Our Lives
Chapter Thirty-Five Damon gritted his teeth, the words scraping out of his throat like shards of broken glass. “Over my dead body!” he spat, his eyes filled with defiance. His father’s face darkened, his patience snapping like a brittle twig. He swung his leg forward, the polished leather of his shoe connecting with Damon’s ribs in a swift, merciless kick. “You fool! You just destroyed our empire because of your stupidity!” the older man roared, his face twisted in fury. “Apologize, right now, before he ruins us completely!” Damon gasped for breath, barely holding himself upright. The fire in his eyes dimmed, but the arrogance remained. He shook his head slightly, defiance lingering in the curl of his lip. “He’s a nobody, Father. Just a pathetic—” Before Damon could finish, his father’s phone beeped again. The sound sliced through the tension like a knife, echoing off the cold concrete walls of the surrounding buildings. The old man’s eyes widened as he read the message, his hand
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