Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption: Bab 11 - Bab 20

BETTYAfter knocking several times, the door finally opens, and Lucy stands on the other side, her hair half curled, a hot iron still clutched in one hand.Her brows shoot up when she sees me, and without saying a word, she places the curler on the console table beside her and opens her arms wide.That’s all it takes for the lump in my throat to break. I close my eyes, take one shaky breath, and fold into her embrace.She smells like vanilla and heat-protectant spray, and I just take it all in as her hand rubs slow circles against my back, her voice low against my ear. “It’s okay, babe. You’re with me now. Let it out.”Her words are gentle, but they crack something deep inside me, and I stand there, letting the tears fall silently down her shoulder.When I finally manage to pull away, she doesn’t ask questions; she just takes my hand, leads me inside, and closes the door behind us with a quiet click.Her apartment looks the same as it always does — a cozy chaos.Clothes are draped over

BETTYI couldn’t bring myself to enter the house once I got home.I sank onto the steps leading to the main door, and I’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, staring at the empty driveway, waiting.Grace and Nathaniel still haven’t shown up, and it’s almost five o’clock.I glance at the watch on my wrist and shake my head. “What could they possibly still be doing?”My mind does what it always does best, and I picture them sitting together at some bright little ice cream place.Grace’s laughter bubbles through the air as she digs her spoon into a shared bowl, and Amanda is sitting beside her, smiling sweetly, pretending she belongs.I can even see her feed Grace a bite, and Nathaniel laughs, imagining they are a perfect family.Maybe this is his plan—to make Grace fall in love with her first, so that when he finally throws me away, she’ll already have someone else to call mom.The thought alone makes my skin prickle and my nails dig into my palms as I grab my purse, pulling o

NATHANIELThe air in the gazebo is thick with tension and the scent of roses.Harriette sits at the head of the round table, her back impossibly straight, the evening sunlight reflecting the silver in her hair.A maid comes and sets down a tray of tea and cookies before slipping away in silence, leaving only the sound of porcelain clinking softly against the saucers.Harriette finally exhales slowly, her fingers circling the rim of her cup. “I just got a call,” she says, her voice calm but carrying the weight of thunder right before a storm.My chest tightens immediately because I know that tone too well. Someone must have seen me with Amanda and told her.My throat dries, and I shift in my seat, trying to appear unaffected. Across from me, Rhys lounges back, one ankle crossed over his knee, that lazy smirk already tugging his lips like he’s been waiting for this.“What was the call about, Grandma?” he asks, his voice light and teasing.She turns to me, her sharp eyes narrowing ever s

BETTYMy hair whips across my face, the breeze brushing over my cheeks as we glide down the long road into town.Rhys has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the edge of the window, and he looks impossibly calm, like the world outside the car belongs to him.Every now and then, I catch him stealing glances from the corner of my eye, little smirks that vanish before I can meet them, and I pretend not to notice.Back at the house, I’d done everything possible to keep space between us — sidestepped tight corners, avoided unnecessary touches, and even ignored the small moments when his hand brushed mine as if by accident.We finally arrive, and the streets hum with life — expensive cars, designer shops, and the scent of roasted coffee drifts from street cafés.He parks near the mall, and I step out quickly, fixing my hair and pretending the air between us isn’t charged.Rhys circles around the car and slides on his sunglasses with the kind of ease only men like him

NATHANIEL.I drum my fingers on the table, each tap louder, sharper, and more deliberate.The air in the boardroom feels heavy, and the soft hum of air conditioner does nothing to cut through the tension crawling under my skin.Across from me, Rhys sits like he owns the room—leaned back, one arm draped over the back of the chair, the other lazily spinning a pen between his fingers.His sleeves are rolled up, collar undone, posture careless. He looks like he’s waiting for his drink at a beach bar and not a billion-dollar land deal that could define the future of Blackwell Enterprises.My jaw tightens, the muscle on my temple ticking. “Are you sure you confirmed the meeting?”He looks up, unbothered, and the faintest smirk tugs at his mouth before he answers, “Of course I did, Nathaniel.” The way he says it, smooth, dismissive, rakes against my nerves.Then he unlocks his phone and glances at it, before placing it face down on the table, as if that’s the end of the conversation.My pati