All Chapters of I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis: Chapter 281 - Chapter 290

The signal needed bright colour, so Ashton told me to coat the exposed sides of the stones in red.Make-up was useless on the island, so I wasn’t upset by the request. In fact, I was almost excited, glad to be useful again. My mood was ridiculously cheerful.When the lipstick was ground down to an unrecognisable stub and the final ‘S’ was in place, I stepped back and admired the result.[SOS]As I stood there, arms folded, sea breeze in my face, a thought struck me. I broke into a run, back to my suitcase, and began rummaging again.Ashton, busy tying bark over the cone-shaped frame, glanced my way. ‘What are you looking for?’‘You’ll see,’ I said, still digging.Seconds later, my triumphant voice rang out. ‘Found it.’He looked over to see a camera in my hands.I carried it to the lipstick SOS and began snapping photos.Ashton, meanwhile, kept working wi

His right hand was trembling violently. It was still covered by a diving glove.I remembered asking him once why he always kept it on. He had said it made work easier. It seemed reasonable enough, so I hadn’t questioned it.But now...My breath caught as I reached for his gloved hand. He was unconscious, unable to resist, and I peeled the glove away with ease. When it came free, I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop a cry escaping.His right hand.The palm was split by a raw, unhealed gash. The whole hand was swollen, red, eaten away by infection. It was barely recognisable as a hand at all. The wound had been there for days, festering until it rotted like this.My chest ached with worry, but another question gnawed at me. When had he hurt himself? What could have done this?I forced myself to think back. And then it struck me. That afternoon when we dived in the deep sea. After the tsunami, when we lost our torches, Ashton had

The flight back to Skyline stretched on endlessly, though the captain insisted it was just under seven hours.Time did not obey clocks when your mind was chasing itself in circles.I barely touched the champagne the flight attendant pressed into my hand. Instead, I spent most of the journey staring at the clouds through the oval window, chewing on the inside of my cheek until I could taste copper.The man in the seat beside me, a trim sort of executive with a navy suit and a smile polished to boardroom standards, decided I looked like an easy target for conversation.‘First time visiting Skyline?’ he asked, with the kind of bright cheerfulness that belonged to someone determined to network at thirty thousand feet.‘No,’ I said, adjusting the blanket across my lap.He leaned closer, as if I had just opened the door to more. ‘Do you live there or work there? I’m in tech investments myself. Always interesting

The boardroom was silent except for the faint hum of the air-conditioning. Twelve pairs of eyes were fixed on me, each one calculating, suspicious, or quietly resentful.The long mahogany table gleamed under the overhead lights. I sat at the head, as I always did, my right hand resting casually on the arm of the chair, though the bandages beneath my sleeve still itched and ached with every pulse.One of the older men cleared his throat. His name was Laurent too, though barely anyone outside the family remembered his exact connection. Second cousin once removed, perhaps. He was nearing seventy, with a heavy jaw and an air of self-importance.‘Ashton,’ he began, his tone deliberately paternal. ‘No one here doubts your capabilities, but you’ve been through an ordeal. Stranded on an island, injured, feverish. Surely you must admit you need rest. Perhaps it would be wise to step back for a time. Let others shoulder the burden until you recover

I checked my reflection one last time in the compact mirror, snapped it shut, and slipped it back into my clutch. Lipstick intact, hair behaving itself. I took a steadying breath and stepped into the grand hall.The chandeliers overhead gleamed like frozen fireworks. The clink of glasses and the rise and fall of conversation filled the air. This was one of those chamber of commerce charity dinners where a plate of rubbery steak cost a five-figure ‘donation’. Normally, I would have found an excuse to skip it. I hated these events, the false laughter, the posturing, the air thick with perfume and self-importance.But tonight was different.Lea’s words still rang in my head. She had said she would do anything for Ashton. Anything. That poisonous little boast had lodged under my skin. It made me ask myself the question I had been avoiding: what about me?I knew Ashton was buried in problems at LGH. Turning up at his office demanding to know