Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption: Bab 31 - Bab 40

BETTYThe construction site is alive in a way that feels almost primal.Dust floats through the air like lazy ghosts, catching sunlight that spills through the unfinished frame of the club, the smell of sawdust and cement heavy against my tongue.I clutch my portfolio to my chest as if it’s the only thing keeping me grounded, and for now, it feels like it is.I barely slept last night. I kept revising the sketches, redrawing, rethinking, pushing lines across the page until the sunrise bled through my curtains.Every stroke felt like a small rebellion against the version of me that had stopped trying long ago.This is my first real project, my first chance to make something that belongs entirely to me, and the thought both steadies and terrifies me.The gravel crunches under my boots as I step closer to the half-built frame, and I catch sight of Rhys, standing near the center of it all, a blueprint rolled in his hand, sleeves folded high on his forearms, a hard hat tipped slightly back

BETTYAfter a full day of dust, drills, and paint samples, I still feel like the construction site clings to my skin.My fingers smell faintly of fresh cement and marker ink, and my back aches from leaning over blueprints all day.I should have gone home to shower, but Lucy can be very persuasive.So now I’m here, walking into a rooftop bar downtown, the city lights flickering like gold beneath me.I spot her immediately at the far corner—legs crossed, martini glass in hand, her blonde hair tied into a perfect bun.She’s scrolling through her phone, her red lipstick the only pop of color on her otherwise bare face.Even without trying, she’s the most beautiful woman in the room. The kind of beauty that gets her free drinks and confessions from strangers.She looks up just as I approach, a smile spreading across her lips before she stands to hug me, kissing both my cheeks.Her perfume wraps around me like something expensive and familiar as she grabs the stack of layouts that are slippi

BETTY“Girls’ night out, huh?” Rhys’s voice slips into the air behind me, smooth and amused, with that kind of teasing tone that says he knows what happened here tonight.I turn toward him, or rather, I try to, but the world sways a little too much for me to look graceful doing it.“Yeah, we might’ve slightly overdone it,” Lucy says, her words melting together as she fumbles for her fur coat.She ends up putting one arm through the sleeve, then the other wrong way around, and it’s so ridiculous I can’t help but laugh.“I texted you less than twenty-five minutes ago,” I mumble in between, trying to sound casual even though I can barely feel my lips. “Were you around town?”Before he can answer, my knees give way, and there’s that split-second of helplessness where I feel gravity winning, but firm hands catch me mid-fall, and suddenly his chest is right there against mine.“Careful,” he whispers, steadying me with one hand at my waist.The air around us shifts, and the faint mix of ceda

NATHANIELThe realization sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. She looks younger, carefree, standing just behind me, smiling at something I must have said.I stare longer than I intend to, my thumb brushing absently over the frame, and I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is. And still is to date.For the first time tonight, something warm slips into the sadness, a reminder that not everything I lost is gone forever, and I whisper her name under my breath, barely audible.Her voice slips into my head as well, and all I can hear are the words she told me the other day. If you love me, why haven’t you left her yet?The question settles deep in my chest, heavier now that I’m alone, and I drag a hand over my face, exhaling slowly, because the answer is never as simple as she wants it to be.The truth is, I haven’t filed for the divorce yet. And not because I don’t want to, or because I’m hesitating, but because I’m not stupid enough to do it here.Every lawyer in this town b

BETTYI freeze outside the door, my breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.I force myself to look in, and the sight steals whatever air was left in my lungs.The room looks like a battlefield, books scattered like fallen soldiers, and papers littering the floor in torn, angry flurries.Rhys stands in the middle of the wreckage, his mouth bleeding, his chest rising and falling fast, his eyes wild, the kind that carry more than fury.Harriette stands across from him, hugging herself so tightly that she looks as though she’s trying to keep her bones from shaking apart.“Are you okay, Grandma?” I whisper, rushing to her side before she can answer.Her skin feels cold under my hand, fragile in a way I’ve never felt before, and I slide my arm around her shoulders, rubbing slow circles to warm her.She gives a tiny nod, but her eyes dart toward Rhys, and that’s when I notice his hand—split and bleeding.“We should clean that,” she murmurs, her voice coming out thin and shaky.