All Chapters of The Forgotten wife of the Billionaire : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Dominic’s POV The river wind cut sharper the longer she stood across from me, her arms crossed, her face shadowed by the city lights. I had already felt her slipping away the moment I said London. I couldn’t let her. Not again. “Lena,” I said, stepping closer. “Listen to me. It doesn’t have to be what it was before. Me running, you waiting. I don’t want that.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you leaving?” “Because the business is still mine. My responsibility. But…” I paused, searching her expression, desperate for even the smallest crack in her walls. “…come with me.” Her lips parted. “What?” “Both of you,” I said firmly. “You and Eliana. London doesn’t have to be a separation. It can be—” I swallowed hard, the words foreign on my tongue. “—a beginning. Our first time traveling together. A test, if you want to call it that.” She shook her head slowly, incredulou

The kettle whistled, steam curling into the quiet kitchen. I poured water into my mug and watched the teabag darken the surface, the swirl of brown spreading slowly, like ink bleeding across a page. It felt like my life—messy, uneasy, scattering in directions I did not have control over. Eliana had been buzzing since I mentioned London. She’d drawn aeroplanes and buses all morning, her laughter sounding throughout the whole house as she told her lion, “We’re going to fly, Leo! Up in the sky.” But it wasn’t decided. Not yet. And every time I looked at her glowing face, the weight of the choice pressed harder on my chest. Making it difficult for me to think of how a negative answer could pop this bubble of happiness she's currently in. Could I uproot us for him? Even if it was for a couple of weeks? Could I risk giving Eliana memories of her father, only for him to disappear again? And hurt her, when he disappoints? I carried my tea to the couch, sinking into the cushions. The book

I couldn’t stop smiling. It had been hours since Lena hung up, and still her voice echoed in my head. We’ll go. Two words that had lifted a weight I hadn’t even realised I’d been carrying. For days I had prepared myself for rejection—for her silence, for another wall between us. Instead, she gave me hope. Not forgiveness, definitely not forever. But hope. From there we could work towards forgiveness. And that was enough. I leaned back in my chair, the glow of the city seeping through the office windows. It was late, and the rest of the building was dark, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave yet. I had too much to do. Too much to plan. London wasn’t just business anymore. It was the first page of something new. I pulled up my laptop and am already making the arrangements. First-class tickets, of course—but not flashy. Lena would hate anything that felt like a show of wealth. A comfortable hotel

The airport was louder than I remembered. Screens flashed with departure times, announcements echoed overhead, and travellers rushed past me with coffee cups and rolling suitcases. But none of it mattered to me. My eyes scanned the crowd, again and again. I’d been here for over an hour, unable to sit still. The car had dropped me off early, and I’d made my assistant triple-check the tickets, the seating, the boarding passes. Everything was in order. Everything was perfect. And yet my palms were damp from sweat. My chest is tight. When I finally saw them, the noise around me faded. Lena, her coat belted neatly, hair loose around her shoulders. Her hand was held firmly around Eliana’s, who bounced beside her with a lion tucked under her arm and eyes wide with excitement. I froze for a second—because the sight of them together like that, walking toward me, looked so much like a family. My family.

The door shut softly behind us, cocooning the three of us in the townhouse's silence. It felt strange—quiet, welcoming, almost too intentional. I stood near the threshold, taking in the warm cream walls, the polished wooden floors, and the scent of lemon polish mixed faintly with cookies. Cookies. I blinked at the little table set by the living room window—two glasses of milk and a plate of sugar-dusted biscuits, waiting like a welcome-home gift. “Mommy! Cookies!” Eliana squealed, flitting forward and dragging Leo under her arm like a co-pilot. She grabbed one immediately, crumbs scattering across her coat. “Slow down, sweetheart,” I called, but my voice lacked firmness. She looked too happy, her cheeks glowing pink from the cold. “It’s okay,” Dominic said softly. He’d removed his coat, draping it over the arm of the sofa. “They’re for her.” I turned, and for the first time in hours, I looked a