The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

The elevator doors slid open with a gentle chime. Ivory stepped into the office with her chin up, her blazer crisp, her heels sharp against the tile. But beneath the belted waist of her structured jacket, she wore a white shirt that didn’t belong to her. A shirt she hoped no one else would notice.She had no time to go home so she opted for his shirt. Miranda was already waiting near the glass doors of Hollis Atelier, tablet in hand. Her eyes flicked over Ivory’s appearance. Same jacket as yesterday. Same shoe, same bag.She laughed. “What?” Ivory asked. “Nothing… you’re glowing,” she said.“Good sleep,” Ivory replied, keeping her pace steady.“Mm-hmm.” Miranda glanced at the shirt peeking out under the blazer. “Nice shirt.”Ivory didn’t answer. Just smiled a little and brushed past her into her office.She tossed her bag onto the desk, dropped into the chair, and buried her head in her hand before opening the folder marked The Right Spring – APPLICANTS.She went through the top n

Willis knew.She didn’t say it outright, but he knew the text wasn’t from Miranda. And when Ivory mentioned dinner tonight—something vague about “catching up with someone”—he didn’t press. Just nodded, said okay, and watched her go.Now, the house was too quiet. Marvin had gone to bed early after a busy day, and Willis sat on the couch, flipping through channels he didn’t care about. Every now and then, he glanced at his phone. No messages.He didn’t expect one.Still, that didn’t stop the hope.—The restaurant was small, dimly lit, and a little too familiar. Ivory had chosen it. Or maybe her memory had—this was where she and Marvin used to eat when it was just the two of them. The owner still greeted her like an old friend. The smell of garlic butter clung to the air like it had never left.Arlo was already there. Navy sweater, sleeves rolled just a bit. His usual cologne—clean, understated, expensive.“I ordered soda,” he said when she sat down. “They don’t sell wine.”“Look around

The smell of eggs and softly browned toast clung to the air, warm and comforting. Morning light spilled across the kitchen tiles, catching the glint of a syrup bottle and the trail of crumbs Marvin had left behind. He sat at the table, swinging his legs, chattering between mouthfuls about a superhero who could fly and turn invisible but only when he holds his breath.Willis was at the stove, shirtless and relaxed, flipping the last pancake with a little more flair than necessary.Ivory sat at the table with her coffee, lukewarm now, and watched them both — Marvin’s animated face, Willis’s quiet smile as he listened. It was everything she’d once wanted, everything she wasn’t sure she could trust.Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen: Pete.She stepped into the living room to answer.“Hey,” she said.“Ivory. You okay? We were supposed to meet yesterday.”She winced. “I know. I’m sorry. Things got… unexpected.”“Well, can we try again today? There’s a brunch thing — the featured d

“Tell her to take it down. Right now!” Ivory’s voice cracked through the phone like lightning.There was a pause.Then Arlo’s voice, calm — too calm — came through the line. “Ivory, it’s just a photo.”“No, it’s not,” she snapped. “It’s my son. My son! And she’s claiming him like she—like she’s his mother.”“I don’t control what she posts.”Ivory’s eyes burned. “But you let it stay up.”“Ivory—”“She didn’t even ask me!” she cried. “You think I’m being dramatic? Fine. But let me be dramatic as his mother. Because if the roles were reversed—if Willis had posted that, you’d have burned the internet down.”There was another pause, longer this time. She heard Arlo sigh.“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “But I can’t promise she’ll delete it.”“Then tell her to never post him again,” Ivory said. Her hand was shaking, phone pressed to her cheek like a threat. “I mean it, Arlo. You want to parade Felicia around as your girlfriend, that’s your business. But she’s not Marvin’s anything.”“Ivory…”“

The road curved gently along the coastline, the sea glittering beside them like scattered diamonds under the late morning sun. Ivory leaned her head against the window, a small smile playing on her lips as Willis drove one-handed, his other arm stretched across to rest behind her seat.“Are you sure you’re not a secret travel agent?” she murmured, glancing at the perfect seaside cabin coming into view ahead. Nestled between dunes and sea grass, it looked like it had been plucked from a daydream.“I dabble,” Willis said, parking with a grin. “Only for select clients.”The moment they stepped out, the salty breeze wrapped around them. Waves broke gently just beyond the porch. No noise. No city. No reminders. Just them.Willis unlocked the door, gesturing for her to enter first. Ivory stepped in and gasped. The cabin was sunlit and soft, with gauzy white curtains dancing on open windows and the scent of lemon and cedarwood in the air. A plush king-sized bed sat beneath a slanted ceiling,