บททั้งหมดของ I AM BILLIONAIRE DAMON'S REPLACEMENT BRIDE : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Thursday came whether I wanted it to or not. I spent the day at work pretending I wasn't counting down hours to something I didn't want to attend. Jessica kept giving me worried looks across the office but didn't push, which I appreciated. Some things were too big to talk about in the break room over mediocre coffee. I got home at five to get ready. The apartment was quiet when I walked in. No sounds from the kitchen, no voices, just that particular silence that meant people were in separate rooms doing their own thing. I went straight to the bedroom and started getting ready. Pulled the dress I'd picked out three days ago. Black, simple, elegant in that way that didn't try too hard. The kind of dress that said I'm here because I have to be, not because I want your attention. Hair up. Makeup minimal. The armor of looking put together when you're actually falling apart.

I'd been at Jessica's apartment for two days when she got the call.We were on her couch eating takeout directly from the containers because neither of us could be bothered with plates. I was wearing her sweatpants and an old college t-shirt and hadn't looked at my phone in six hours.Damon had called seventeen times.I'd answered zero.Jessica's phone rang and she looked at the screen, then at me."It's the PI."My stomach did something complicated."Answer it," I said.She put it on speaker."Ms. Martin? This is David Chen. I have some preliminary findings I wanted to discuss with you.""I'm here with Eve," Jessica said. "She's listening.""Good. That saves me a call." Papers rustling on his end. "I'm going to start with what I found and then we can discuss what it means. Is that alright?""Yes," I said."Okay. First item. The doctor Sophia Morgan claimed confirmed her pregnancy. A Dr. Robert Morrison, private practice

I had a client meeting at Monarch's, this Italian place in Midtown that was nice but not overly fancy. The kind of place where business lunches happen over pasta. I was meeting a potential new client, one of those tech startups with too much money and terrible branding. They'd reached out specifically asking for me after seeing some of my recent work. It was good timing, because I needed something that was mine, something that had nothing to do with Damon or Sophia or the slow-motion collapse of my marriage.I got there fifteen minutes early like I always did. I let the hostess know I was expecting someone and she led me to a table near the back.That's when I saw them.Center of the restaurant, prime table, natural light from the windows hitting them just right.Damon and Sophia.Having lunch.My feet stopped moving before my brain caught up.The hostess turned around. "Is this table alright or would you prefer. ""It's fine," I heard myself say. "This is perfect."I sat with my bac

Lunch with Sophia was supposed to be quick. That's what I told myself when she asked if we could talk, said she had something important to discuss about the doctor situation Eve had brought up. Said it would be better to talk somewhere neutral, away from the apartment, away from the tension that lived in every room now. I should have said no. Should have insisted we talk at home, should have known how it would look, should have thought about optics and appearances and all the things I was usually so careful about. But I was tired and I wanted answers and I thought maybe if I could get Sophia to explain the doctor thing in detail, I could bring that explanation back to Eve and finally, finally we could move past this. So I said yes to lunch. Monarch's at noon on a Tuesday, busy enough that we'd blend in, quiet enough that we could actually talk. Sophia ordered a salad she barely touched. I had pasta I wasn't really tasting. She explained about the doctor's office in Rome, about

"That's not what I asked. I asked who you believe."He looked at me across the table and I watched him try to find the answer that would make everyone happy, that would keep all his options open, that would let him avoid making the choice he'd been avoiding for months."I believe there's something wrong with her story," he said carefully. "But I need more before I can act on it."And there it was.The answer I'd been dreading."Okay," I said."Okay?""Yeah, okay. You need more. You always need more. More proof, more time, more certainty. And while you're waiting for more, I'm dying in our apartment watching her take my place piece by piece." I stood up. "I'm going home.""Eve...""I'm going home to our apartment and I'm going to pack enough clothes for a week, maybe two. And then I'm leaving.""Where are you going?""I don't know yet. Jessica's, a hotel, maybe I'll sublet something. But I can't stay there anymore, Damon. I can't watch