All Chapters of I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

I hadn't seen Louisa Granger in months—not properly, not since my broken engagement with Rhys.She had always liked me. Sometimes I even thought she loved me more than my own mother did. When I was younger, she would invite me for tea in her sunlit drawing room, listen to my chatter, and beam at me as if she were already imagining me as her daughter-in-law. She wanted me to marry Rhys so badly it seemed like it was her dream as much as his.But that was before everything went wrong. Before Rhys destroyed whatever we had with a slap, before he married Catherine, and before the Granger family unraveled.Since then, I had kept my distance.Now I was walking into a quiet café in Midtown, the kind of place with whitewashed walls, leafy plants, and soft jazz floating from hidden speakers. Neutral ground. I thought it safer than her house, which was haunted with memories I didn't want to stir up.She was already there, sitting near the window with a cup of coffee untouched in front of her.L

The hotel conference room smelled faintly of coffee and air freshener. Gerard Haldane was already there, seated at the head of the table. He rose when I walked in, his hand extended, his politician's smile warm and well rehearsed."Miss Vance," he said, as if we were old friends. "Daniel tells me you are quite the designer. I must admit, I expected someone… older. Please, sit."He gestured to a chair opposite him. His voice was smooth, the sort that had charmed donors and constituents for decades.I smiled politely and took the seat. "Thank you for agreeing to see me.""For Daniel's friends, always," Haldane said. His eyes flicked over me, quick and assessing. "Now, how can I help? Were you thinking of making a contribution to the commissioner's fund? We welcome support from the creative sector, especially one as talented as you."So that was it. He thought I was here to write a check.I folded my hands on the table. "Actually, I'm he

The hospital room was dim, except for the steady glow of the monitor by Ashton's bed. Machines hummed and ticked in a rhythm that had become both a comfort and a torment to me.I sat curled in the chair beside him, one hand resting on the blanket near his.He already looked thinner, as if the fever had carved him away in just a few days. His skin was pale, almost translucent under the harsh hospital lights, and his mouth was drawn tight even in sleep.Yet, even haggard like this, he was still devastatingly handsome. The sharp line of his jaw, the dark lashes against his cheek, the faint furrow between his brows—all of it made my chest ache.Sometimes he stirred, his lips moving faintly, a sound breaking out so soft I almost thought I imagined it.Then, once, unmistakably, he whispered my name.My throat closed up. I leaned closer, pressing my ear near his mouth as if he might say it again.He didn't.But I'd heard it, and

The room was too quiet without her.I had asked Mira to leave, told her I needed rest. The words came out clipped, controlled, the way I always tried to sound when everything inside me was anything but steady.She hesitated, then left, and the soft click of the door behind her was sharper than any blade.I told myself this was for the best. She deserved a life unshackled by someone half-broken, someone who might never hold her the way she deserved again. Better to push her away now than let her waste years watching me struggle.And yet, as I lay there staring at the empty chair, the weight in my chest grew heavier with each breath.The minutes dragged. My hand throbbed with a dull ache, a constant reminder of what I might have lost.My heart ached worse.I tried closing my eyes, tried drifting back into the fever fog, but sleep wouldn't come. All I could think of was her face when I had turned her away. The hurt she tried to hide, the

Genevieve looked stricken.She lunged for Ashton’s arm.‘That’s impossible! How could you be married? You—’Ashton pulled his arm free of her grasp. ‘Yes, I’m married. And my wife,’ he glanced at me with a smile in his eyes, ‘is the jealous type. Best if you keep your distance.’As if that weren’t enough of a blow, he added, ‘Miss Crawford.’‘You used to call me Vivi…’ Genevieve’s face went pale.I shuddered as goosebumps prickled across my skin. I arched a brow at Ashton. Vivi, seriously?Genevieve’s hand clenched into a fist, her long painted nails biting into her palm, though she didn’t seem to notice.‘Mr Laurent!’ A tuxedoed man in his late twenties strolled over with the tallest, most willowy woman I’d ever seen hanging off his arm. ‘What a pleasant surprise!’He gave me a