Semua Bab I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis: Bab 11 - Bab 20

That stopped me. Just for a second.Louisa Granger. The only member of that genetically cursed family I’d actually liked.She used to call me her ‘darling girl’ and meant it. She remembered my birthday. She bought me books I actually read. She once told me I had a fire in me and that it was beautiful.Meanwhile, my own mother thought my jewellery designs were a hobby I’d grow out of and that fire belonged in fireplaces or hell.‘Come to dinner,’ Rhys carried on, his tone clipped. ‘Just don’t say anything to her about… y’know. Us.’Of course he wanted me to lie for him. Again.‘Wow. Brave of you,’ I said, voice sharp enough to julienne a courgette. ‘What happened to that big manly energy you were showing off with Catherine? If you’re so smitten, why not bring her to dinner and introduce her to the fam? Or are you worried Mummy might not approve of your shiny new mistress?’He didn’t reply. I didn’t wait for him to.I hung up, tossed my phone on the sofa, and muttered, ‘Bloody coward.’

I answered the call.‘Louisa…’ I sounded sheepish, even to myself.I could ghost Rhys with no regrets, but Louisa was a different story. She’d always treated me like family—sometimes more than my actual family did—and I couldn’t bring myself to be cruel to her.If she was calling now, she probably already knew about the split. Either Rhys had miraculously grown a pair and told her, or he’d been his usual cowardly self and she’d sensed something was off.‘Mira.’ She cleared her throat like she was bracing herself. ‘I know Rhys has been a complete idiot, but you’ve been engaged for two years. The wedding’s next month, sweetheart. This isn’t the time to throw a tantrum.’So he did tell her. Colour me shocked. Or maybe Catherine was the one who pushed him into it, like she did with everything else.I didn’t want to upset Louisa. I really didn’t. But there were some hills a girl had to die on, and this particular hill had ‘no to marrying a man who drools over his ex’ spray-painted all over

But instead of throwing a punch, Rhys took a deep breath and said, ‘We need to talk.’I relaxed fractionally and plonked myself down on a bench in the waiting area. I wasn’t going anywhere till Aunt Louisa came out of surgery. If Rhys wanted to talk, he could crack on. I was fully prepared to ignore every syllable.He sat next to me and lowered his voice. ‘I need you to… do something for me.’I kept my eyes glued to the neon-red sign above the operating room door that screamed Surgery In Progress.Rhys went on. ‘Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper that day and… hurt you. I apologise.’I turned my head slowly, like I was checking if I’d just hallucinated him saying that.Rhys Granger, apologising?Was he ill?Had the aliens finally replaced him with a half-decent human clone?‘I’m sorry about how things turned out,’ he said. ‘I wish we could work something out. Mum was really upset when she found out we’d had a fight—’‘We didn’t just have a fight, Rhys. We broke up.’ I cut in before he c

‘You alright?’His voice snapped me out of my mental spiral.‘What?’ I blinked at him, brain still buffering.Ashton gave me a quick side glance. ‘Earlier. At the hospital. Did he… hurt you?’‘You mean Rhys?’ I said. ‘No.’Technically true.Not for lack of trying, though.Rhys practically lived at the gym, probably had protein shakes for blood. If he’d landed a hit, I’d be scraping bits of myself off the floor with a dustpan.I added, softer this time, ‘Thank you.’He didn’t say ‘you’re welcome.’Instead, his grip on the steering wheel went full Incredible Hulk—veins popping like they were auditioning for a fitness ad.I stared.Was he angry? At me? At Rhys?‘That was your ex-fiancé?’ he finally asked, voice low.‘Yeah.’He looked like he had about seven things he wanted to say and none of them were polite enough for public consumption. In the end, he just nodded and stared straight ahead.The rest of the drive was silent. Not awkward-silent, just... broody.We got to the apartment an

‘A what now?’ My brain did a double take and tripped over its own feet.Savannah’s grin widened. ‘That necklace you designed? The one Eliza Black wore on the red carpet last week? It blew up. Press coverage, socials, even one of those trashy gossip TikToks. Nyx Collective finally went viral, and it’s thanks to you.’Huh. I relaxed. So I wasn’t getting fired today.‘So here’s the deal,’ she added breezily. ‘Ten grand. It’ll be in your account by the end of the day.’I nearly hugged her. Nearly. But I settled for a deeply heartfelt thank-you and a facial expression that screamed ‘I suddenly believe in capitalism again.’Back at my desk—yes, freelancers got cubicles too at Nyx Collective, mostly for the aesthetic—I dropped into my chair and tried to act casual. Which was difficult, because my inner monologue was doing the cha-cha to the sound of incoming funds.Clearly, word had already spread, because no sooner had I logged in than someone from the next desk leaned over and whispered, ‘