Betrayed By Husband And Son: Rise Of A Billionaire Wife のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 351 - チャプター 359

Silver~An hour later… Sitting cross-legged in the private lounge at the airport, my mind drifted in lazy, uncooperative circles.The glass walls gave a clear view of the terminal beyond—people rushing, announcements echoing, the usual controlled chaos. I tuned most of it out, my noise-canceling earbuds dangling uselessly around my neck. I wasn’t listening to music. I rarely did. Silence was the closest thing to rest I could afford.Ethan had dropped me off at the airport to take care of our flight while he sent my car to my private villa. The private jet was ready and it wouldn't take long before Ethan arrived. I exhaled slowly, fingers tapping once against my knee, wondering why my mom wanted me back in Greenville as soon as possible. “…this is ridiculous!” a male voice snapped, loud enough that several heads turned. Mine too. “You can’t just give my seat away. I booked it. I paid for it and I'm not even late!”The young man argued with the airline staff at the counter, his frus

Silver~“Nothing. He's—” Ethan began but Daniel cut him off. “It seems to me that your brother hates the air I breathe.” He paused. “Ask him how much I owe him, and why he wants to murder me with his gaze.”The air stilled. I turned to Ethan, brow raised in a question.He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then fixed Daniel with a gaze. “He's making things up. He's an attention seeker.” “How do you tell such a lie with a face so straight? Whose attention am I seeking, yours?” He huffed. “You overestimate yourself.” Ethan's face flushed a shade of red, his fist clenched, lips trembled, as though he was holding back. My lips thinned. I hated disorder as much as I hated for my peace to be interrupted. My noise concealer wasn't on. I heard the exchange. Even though there wasn't enough evidence to back Daniel's claim of hostility, I was acutely aware of Ethan's character. Sometimes, he took “looking out for my comfort” a little too far. “I invited him,” I said, my tone even. “Wh

Silver~It’s been a year since I last set foot in Coastal Sonata Retreat. The resort has monopolized the sea, buildings spanning across ocean and shore like a living thing, forming a perfect arc. Ethan held the door as I stepped out of the car, breathing in the clean air that smelt like salt, sun-warmed stone, and quiet money. Twelve years ago, this place had only one main building with a few attached wings. Now, twelve years later, it has grown into over a hundred and fifty wings, each one stretching farther into the horizon, stitched together by bridges and private waterways. What was once modest ambition had become domination, a coastal kingdom.The old ‘My Family Resort’, which once sat arrogantly in the ocean like it owned the waves themselves, was nowhere to be found. The new owner had sold it off to the government after my mother refused to buy anything tied to Ryan Thompson.And the government converted it into a marine research and conservation center.Standing by the car,

Silver~The dinner party was hosted by the seaside. Four seater round tables were beautifully decorated with flowers and packed with snacks, wine, and dessert. My mother obviously lied about the guests. It was a crowd of elites. Politicians with practiced smiles. Business magnates whose laughter sounded rehearsed. Scientists, philanthropists, socialites—people who owned countries quietly, without titles. The sea glimmered with dimmed lights behind them, lanterns floating above the waves. Soft music drifted through the air, masking the quiet competition beneath every conversation.My mother, radiant in a deep emerald gown, locked her arm in my dad's. The two moved through the crowd like they were born for it.I'd seen my dad earlier, not that I expected him to take my side over my mom's — it never happened, but I hoped he'd at least, make it easier, but the lovestruck Detroit West, simply shook his head, said I shouldn't cause trouble for his already stressed wife. I thought he pr

Of course. I forgot I was the only one on earth who couldn't dance to save themselves. It was earlier to turn him down than step into the dance floor and be ogled at like a piece of bad art, but my mom's words never stopped harassing my mental health. “I can't dance, but must dance. Is there a remedy?” He didn't seem surprised when he nodded. “Just stand on my feet and leave the rest to me.” Then, he paused. “It would seem a bit romantic, hope you don't mind?” I mind. Hell, I do! But what choice do I have? Pulling back now would prove my mom right, and I'd probably be grounded and withdrawn from school and everything that makes me happy. Worst of all, I could be thrust into any of my parents’ companies, forced to slave away my days in the office, doing nothing but reading numbers, shaking hands, and smiling for the cameras. No, I didn't want such a life. I wasn't even managing my own clothing business. I had people for that, so why would I manage a bigger co