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Chapter 7: The Master Suite

ผู้เขียน: Anne
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-07-30 00:08:29

The iron gates of the Grayson estate receded silently into the morning mist like the jaws of a sleeping leviathan.

As the sleek black town car wound up the private serpentine drive, Adelaide pressed her hand against the tinted window, watching the landscape unfold. Unlike the gaudy, sun-drenched marble palace Oscar had bought to parade his newly acquired wealth—a place dripping in tacky gold leaf and glass—Dean’s domain was something entirely different.

The estate rose out of ancient, toweri
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  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 34: The Green-Eyed Monster

    The roaring applause that filled the grand gallery of the Metropolitan Fine Arts Hall sounded like physical violence to Oscar Grayson.He stood in the shadows near the rear exit doors, half-hidden behind a thick marble pillar. He wore a dark cap pulled low over his forehead, his coat collar turned up against his jaw.Nobody noticed him. In a room overflowing with international fashion royalty, billionaire investors, and glowing high-society figures, Oscar was invisible.From his dark vantage point, he watched Adelaide Vance step out onto the brightly lit stage.She wore a sleek, black tuxedo dress that clung to her long frame with immaculate precision. Her dark hair was styled into a low, gleaming knot, exposing the elegant line of her neck and her sharp collarbones.She looked radiant. She looked powerful.She stood at the exact center of the universe, bathed in a pool of brilliant white light, taking her bow as the most celebrated figure in the city.

  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 33: Triumph on the Runway

    The atmosphere inside the grand gallery of the Metropolitan Fine Arts Hall was suffocatingly tense.Every single seat in the house was occupied.Fashion editors, high-net-worth buyers, foreign ambassadors, and celebrity stylists crowded together along the edge of the sleek, white runway.The air smelled of fresh white lilies, expensive perfume, and hot lighting rigs.In the front row, Maeve Sterling sat with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.She wore a sharp tailored dress, but her expression was cold and bitter.Beside her sat three prominent fashion bloggers and two senior critics from major tabloids.Maeve had paid each of them a small fortune earlier that morning.Their job was simple: write scathing, ruthless reviews the moment the show concluded.They were instructed to focus on the last-minute material changes and call the collection a cheap, desperate disaster.Maeve checked her gold watch.The show was scheduled to begin in

  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 32: The Phantom Signature

    Oscar stared at the blue crest on the clinic record until the ink blurred before his eyes.The rain outside drummed a relentless beat against the roof of the sedan. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of wet wool and cold sweat."Are you certain about the proxy firm?" Oscar asked, his voice barely a rasp.Victor pulled a second document from his coat."The three-star crest belongs to Valen Holdings," Victor explained calmly. "It's a shadow entity registered in Zurich. Dean Grayson is the sole beneficial owner."Oscar leaned his head back against the leather headrest, closing his eyes.His mind raced backward through time.Six years ago, Adelaide was supposed to be a nobody. She was just an obscure, struggling designer working out of a drafty studio in Lyon.Or so she had told him.When Oscar met her in London two years later, she had appeared like a ghost—quiet, distant, and fiercely independent.He had assumed her coldness was just her nature. He thought her refusal to talk abou

  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 31: A Clue to the Past

    Rain tapped heavily against the tinted glass of Oscar’s car.The storm outside matched the dark mood in his mind. He sat in the backseat, staring at the dimly lit Queens street.The door opened with a sudden creak.Victor slipped inside, shaking rain off his dark coat. He looked unusually quiet as he held out a thick yellow envelope."I found something else," Victor said.His voice was lower than before. "The Geneva art lead was a dead end. But I dug deeper into her missing years in Europe."Oscar grabbed the envelope eagerly. "What is it?""A medical record," Victor replied."It was buried deep in an old off-shore server. It took a massive bribe to pull it out."Oscar pulled out a piece of old paper.Most of the lines were covered in dark black ink. Big sections of text had been erased or blacked out completely.His eyes scanned the top of the page.It was an admission form from an elite private clinic. The facility sat high in the isolated mountains of Switzerland.The document show

  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 30: Oscar’s Desperation

    The dimly lit interior of the uptown lounge smelled of stale whiskey, leather, and cigar smoke—a far cry from the opulent, sun-drenched boardrooms Oscar Grayson used to frequent. Oscar sat in a corner booth, staring into the amber depth of his glass. His crisp designer suit, once immaculate, was slightly wrinkled at the elbows. The dark circles under his eyes spoke to weeks of sleepless nights, driven by a toxic cocktail of wounded pride, escalating financial terror, and relentless pressure. Opposite him, Maeve Sterling didn't bother to hide her disdain. She tapped her manicured nails against the dark wood table, her crimson lips pulled into a sharp, impatient line. "My father is pulling the Sterling Group's support from your secondary investments by the end of the week, Oscar," Maeve said, her voice dropping into a cold, transactional whisper. "The board meeting yesterday was a bloodbath. Dean stripped your remaining voting rights on the international retail committee. You’re eff

  • From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt   Chapter 29: The Private Showing

    The frantic energy that had consumed the Mercer Street loft during fashion week had finally settled into a serene, meditative quiet. It was two o'clock in the morning. Outside, a gentle summer rain brushed against the towering arched windows, blurring the warm yellow streetlights below. Inside the studio, most of the work lights had been switched off, leaving only a single, warm spotlight focused on the central fitting pedestal. Adelaide stood before a dress form, dressed in a soft cream cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and her dark hair secured in a loose, casual twist. She held a pin cushion wrapped around her wrist, a pair of steel shears resting in the back pocket of her trousers. On the mannequin was her newest project—a breathtaking, midnight-black silk velvet evening gown that absorbed the light like a starless night sky. She leaned in close, her slender fingers carefully pleating a heavy fold of velvet across the hip, securing it with a single, pr

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