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CHAPTER 074
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2026-02-15 23:59:13
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THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 074
NATHANIEL.I have been rehearsing this conversation all day in my head, and so far, there are no words that won't turn this into another disagreement.I look for her everywhere in the house until I find her in the study. The same room where everything unraveled weeks ago.The door is slightly open, and she is seated behind the desk, the evening light catching the silver in her hair and the thin rim of her glasses.She is holding a framed photograph in both hands, her thumb brushing over its edge slowly, as if afraid it might disappear if she looks away.For a moment, she doesn’t look formidable, but old, and painfully human.I shift my weight, deciding this is not the right time, and turn away when her voice reaches me without her looking up.“Just get in, Nathaniel. You’re blocking the light.”I sigh, closing my eyes briefly before stepping inside.The room looks cleaner than last time. The shelves have been dusted. The frames straightened, and even the curtains hung with sharper int
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 073
BETTY8:15 a.m.Dear Betty,Thank you for getting back to me about my penthouse renovation. I have gone through some of your ideas and I am impressed. You have the job if you still want it. We can meet tomorrow to discuss how to proceed further.Regards, Mrs. Marshall.I read it once. Then again. Then I read it out loud, softly, just to make sure the words don’t dissolve into something less magical if I blink too hard.“You have the job.” My heart stumbles against my ribs.I clap both hands over my mouth, eyes still glued to the screen, and a muffled scream escapes anyway, half laughter, half disbelief.I push back my chair and stand abruptly, pacing once, twice, then breaking into a ridiculous jump in the middle of the living room like I am twenty again and life has just handed me a scholarship.“Oh my God,” I whisper to the empty space. “Oh my God.”The guest house suddenly feels brighter, the morning sun spilling through the windows as if it has been waiting for this exact moment t
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 072
NATHANIEL.My stride eats up the corridor from the elevator to my office, long and unforgiving, the echo of my footsteps ricocheting.I fling my briefcase in the direction of my assistant without checking if he catches it, and from the corner of my eye, I see him scramble, nearly losing balance as he follows behind me.“Sir, there is—” The door swings open before he finishes, and the words die somewhere between us.Amanda is in my chair, her heels propped on my desk, one ankle resting over the other, fingers drumming lazily on the armrest as if this office belongs to her and I am the one intruding.A scoff escapes me before I can stop it, and I bite my tongue before I say something I might regret.I do not have the patience for this today. I do not have the composure to perform whatever version of myself she expects.I came here to bury myself in contracts, numbers, and negotiations so I would not think about this morning, and here she is. The universe has definitely been conspiring a
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 071
NATHANIEL.Something has shifted in the house since she left.Not enough to disrupt the routine, but just enough to make everything feel slightly out of place, like a painting hung a fraction too low on the wall.Harriette still spends her mornings in the garden, walking the paths with her cane, inspecting roses as if nothing in this family has ever fractured beyond repair.My mother still leaves the house early and returns late, offering no explanations and expecting none in return, and Grace still gets dressed, eats breakfast, and disappears into the rhythm of her days.Everything continues, and yet the air feels thinner.I catch myself lingering in the hallway more often than I should, slowing my steps for no reason I’m willing to name, my gaze drifting instinctively toward a door that no longer belongs to her.Every time it happens, irritation follows close behind, sharp and unnecessary, telling myself this is nothing more than a habit, because years of coexistence don’t dissolve
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 070
BETTY“More martini?” I ask, turning toward the jug on the counter as if the question will break the tension,I hear him scoff behind me, soft and amused, and when I glance back, he’s already moved to the living room. Thank God. I don’t think I could survive another second of pretending I don’t feel the shift in the air.I finish the rest of my drink in one determined gulp, the burn grounding me, then carry the jug and set it gently on the coffee table, carefully.“I actually never got the chance to thank you,” he pauses. “For the opening.”I pause and briefly turn to him. “You don’t have to. I should be the one thanking you. ”He shakes his head once, deliberately. “It was your vision. You carried that night on your back, Betty. Most people would’ve folded.”Something warm settles in my chest, and I nod, suddenly unsure what to do with the praise. “It was… a pleasure, and if we are doing this, I should thank you, too, for saving the night.”His brow furrows slightly. “Saving it how?”
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption CHAPTER 069
BETTYIt’s been a week since I settled into the guest house, and if I’m being honest, the first few days felt like I was trespassing in someone else’s memory.The house was beautiful in the way old money always is — quiet, preserved, untouched — but everywhere I turned, the walls stared back at me.Framed photographs lined the walls and mantelpieces, hung with almost obsessive symmetry.Harriette in her younger years, poised and sharp even in black and white. Her late husband standing beside her, dignified and distant. Nathaniel’s father in various stages of life, almost the whole childhood of Nathaniel.And then there were the others — men and women I didn’t recognize, their eyes carrying the same unmistakable Blackwell bone structure. Extended family.Ghosts. People whose names I would never learn, but whose presence made the space feel borrowed rather than mine.I took every frame down, one by one, careful not to crack the glass, stacking them gently on boxes as if I owed them that
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