All Chapters of Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!: Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

I couldn’t stop her, so I did the only thing I could.I buried my face in Lochlan’s shoulder, hiding my own, letting him take the full force of the embarrassing, paparazzi-style scrutiny.He marched right out of the main doors.His car was parked directly outside, probably on a double yellow line. He deposited me gently into the passenger seat, then got in the driver’s side.‘I haven’t collected the prescription yet,’ I protested weakly, holding up the little slip of paper.‘You won’t need it. We’re going to handle this another way.’ He paused, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t consider this. It was irresponsible.’‘It’s not just on you,’ I said, my own voice awkward. ‘I’m a fully participating adult. It was… a moment. Things got a bit carried away.’I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, staring instead at the blur of London streets.I didn’t blame him. In that bath, with the steam and the roses and him, I hadn’t been thinking about consequences eith

My mother, who had been staring fixedly out of the passenger window, jolted slightly. ‘Oh, you know, I’ve just seen his photo in those business magazines your father buys. He likes to collect them, all those glossy things about finance and… and yachts.’ She waved a hand vaguely.It was a terrible lie.My father’s reading material extended to Gardener’s World and the television listings. He thought the FT was something you got on a car.I didn’t press her. I knew that tone, that evasive set of her shoulders. Pushing would only make her clam up tighter, and I hated seeing the worried crease between her brows deepen.As soon as we got home, Mum fled to the kitchen.I busied myself putting the shopping away, but my eyes kept drifting to the closed glass door of the kitchen.Through the frosted panels, I could see her silhouette. She was on her mobile phone, her posture rigid, one hand pressed to her forehead. Her expression, from what I could glimpse, was deadly serious.She was having a c

We all paused.My father looked puzzled.I glanced at my mother, who mouthed, ‘Your grandma called. The boy had a work emergency. He’s not coming.’I looked at Portia, who shook her head emphatically and mimed zipping her lips.Then a voice, loud and floral as a garden centre, trilled from the front path. ‘Jenna! Love! I’ve brought you my lemon drizzle cake! Still warm!’‘Oh, it’s Rhonda.’ Mum got up to answer the door.A moment later, she returned, shepherding our neighbour into the dining room.Rhonda Higgins was squeezed into a cardigan covered in violent pink peonies. Her blonde curls were shellacked into a helmet of impressive solidity.She bustled in, spotted me, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree.‘Hyacinth! Duck! Look at you!’ She thrust the cake tin at my mother and surged forward to envelop me in a cloud of baking-soda scent. ‘It’s been an age! Your mother says you’re in the city all on your own now! I heard about the divorce, pet, so sorry it didn’t work out, but thes

Turning on the lights was like triggering magic.The interior was one vast, open space. The ceiling was all glass, showing a blanket of stars between the silhouettes of delicate iron beams. The floor was pale polished concrete, warmed by a few huge, incredibly plush rugs.There was minimal furniture, a few statement pieces that probably had unpronounceable Scandinavian names, and everywhere… plants. Lush, tropical, thriving plants. A fiddle-leaf fig the size of a small car. A cascade of philodendron.Dad would have absolutely loved it here.I turned in a slow circle, taking it in. ‘Wow.’Lochlan had already sunk onto a large, low sofa that seemed to be carved from a single piece of pale wood. He looked at home here, in this unreal place.I knew the moment had arrived. There was no avoiding the conversation now. I sat down on the other end of the sofa, turning to face him. ‘Look. About tonight. I swear on my life, I had no idea any of that was going to happen.’Lochlan studied the label

‘You’ve seen the food in the fridge,’ Lochlan. ‘The things in the bathroom. You know they don’t belong to me. Yet you haven’t asked about any of it.’I shrugged. ‘I assumed it was left by a friend. You seem like the type who has people for things.’‘What friend?’Here we go. I met his eyes, the pale ones that missed nothing. ‘I don’t know. A female friend. In your world, are they called “companions”? Or, in plainer English, fuck buddies?’The air in the room didn’t just go still, it congealed. ‘You think this is my fuck pad?’I turned to look out at the obscenely perfect garden. ‘I don’t particularly care if it is. It’s a very nice house. Good light. Excellent security. Top-tier amenities. It would serve the purpose admirably.’I could feel his anger, a quiet, potent wave radiating from across the kitchen island.He beckoned with one finger. ‘Come here.’I stood up. But instead of going to him, I turned on my heel and walked towards the hallway with what I hoped was a dignified sweep.