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Chapter 73 Instructional Video
Last Updated:
2025-07-08 10:00:14
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I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 95 Ashton’s POV: Things He Didn’t Know
‘Sir, we’re here,’ the driver said.Fifteen minutes later…The private hospital room was silent except for the slow drip-drip-drip of the IV.Ashton stayed beside the bed, adjusting the blanket over Mirabelle’s shoulder.Her face was flushed. Her hair stuck to her forehead in damp clumps.He pulled out his phone and made a call.Yvaine Carlisle sprinted in almost an hour later, panting, sweat clinging to her temples.She nearly slammed into the doorframe.‘What the hell happened? Why’s she burning up?’Mirabelle was asleep, breathing unevenly.Ashton pointed his chin towards the sitting area. His voice dropped. ‘She fell in the pool. Fever spiked after we got her out.’‘She fell?’ Yvaine had dropped onto the sofa. She now shot back up like the cushion bit her. ‘She’s terrified of water. That must’ve scared the shit out of her.’Ashton narrowed his eyes. ‘You knew that?’He’d heard the story from Mirabelle in the car, but her words were disjointed, and there were missing pieces.He had
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 94 Ashton’s POV: Fever
Ashton was already moving before the maid had finished speaking.He took the stairs four at a time and reached the second floor in a matter of seconds.Not stopping to catch his breath, he shoved open the bedroom door.Mirabelle was buried under a pile of thick duvets, face flushed scarlet.Her skin had been bloodless just half an hour ago, ghost-pale and ice-cold after she’d nearly drowned.Now she looked like she was overheating from the inside out.Her eyes were screwed tightly shut.‘She started heating up a while ago,’ the maid behind him stammered. ‘I got a thermometer and… it’s forty degrees and climbing.’Ashton strode over, pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.She wasn’t just burning up; her skin was scalding.He just picked her up—duvet and all—cradled her to his chest, and turned on his heel.‘Hospital. Now.’Downstairs, the room buzzed with shocked whispers, but Ashton barely registered them.He swept through the hallway, his footsteps thudding over the marble floor,
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 93 Ashton’s POV: Punishment
The voice was high-pitched, clear.It sliced through the tension like someone’d just popped a balloon in a silent church.Ashton’s head snapped around.The kid couldn’t have been more than seven.She wore a daffodil-yellow dress speckled with tiny white blossoms and had pigtails so neatly braided they looked vacuum-sealed.She looked right back at him, completely unbothered by the fact that every single adult was now gaping at her.A woman bolted to her side and slapped a hand gently over the girl’s mouth.‘Don’t talk nonsense, Freya,’ the woman hissed, frantic. ‘You don’t know anything.’She forced a shaky smile in Ashton’s direction. ‘She’s just a kid. She doesn’t understand—’‘Let her finish,’ Ashton said.The woman’s lips kept twitching like she wanted to protest, but all she could do was shut up and move to the side.Freya jabbed a finger straight at Isobel.‘I was playing out back just now. I saw you talking to that pretty lady, but she didn’t wanna talk to you. She tried to lea
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 92 Ashton’s POV: Confrontation
Her bra and panties were soaked through.Not a good idea to leave them on.Mirabelle squirmed when he reached for the bra clasp, but his voice cut through the fog again—low, steady, close to her ear.‘It’s me. Ashton. You’re safe now.’Her breath hitched, then she went still.He stripped off the last of the soaked fabric, towelled her off again, and reached for the change of clothes.A white dress shirt and suit trousers, both at least two sizes too big.They were his.There were women in the house—his brother’s wife, his stepmother—but the idea of Mirabelle wearing anything of theirs made something primal crawl under his skin.He slipped the shirt over her shoulders, buttoned it up, rolled the cuffs.The trousers he folded at the waist and cinched loosely with one of his ties.She looked like she’d wandered out of his closet half-asleep, hair damp, skin flushed, drowning in layers of fabric.Her eyes were barely open.She was somewhere else entirely.Ashton stood and shifted his weig
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 91 Ashton’s POV: Not Fast Enough
Ashton had never sprinted that fast in his life.Still, by the time he dragged Mirabelle out of the water, her lips were blue, her body limp in his arms.He was too fucking slow.He knew it the moment her head lolled back and she didn’t open her eyes.He laid her down on the poolside tiles, soaking wet and ice-cold.Tilted her head, checked her airway, locked his hands over her sternum and pumped.Fast. Hard.A sick, ugly rhythm that scared the hell out of him.Then mouth-to-mouth—his breath into hers, again and again, his heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.Come on, Mirabelle.Finally, she jerked.Coughed.Water poured from her mouth and splattered against his chest.Her eyes stayed shut, but her breathing started.Shallow, ragged, each gasp like it hurt.Ashton scooped her up, holding her tight against him, and tore back into the house.The party noise hit him like a slap—laughing, music, chatter.He didn’t slow down.Took the stairs three at a time, ignoring the
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis Chapter 90 Drowning
I stepped into her space. ‘Oh really? What, you’re going to threaten me now? Come on, Isobel. It’s 2025, not the Wild West. What’s the plan—whack me? You think your precious family’s still going to clean up your mess? Still going to bail you out after everything you’ve done?’Her face flushed deep red, her breath jagged like she was seconds from bursting a blood vessel.‘Don’t talk to me like that!’ she hissed, her raised voice drawing attention.She glanced around, suddenly self-conscious, and dropped her tone. ‘Fine. How much would it take?’‘I told you, I don’t want money. I want you to go to the police and confess. Own up to what you did.’‘Not gonna happen.’‘Then we’re done.’I turned and walked off.It wasn’t like I could conjure up a sack, throw it over her head, and pick up where we left off back in high school with a proper beatdown.Short of that, I was done.She scrambled after me. ‘Wait!’Her hand clamped onto my arm.Stronger grip than I expected.I backhanded her in the
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