All Chapters of My Husband Brought His Mistress Home: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

CIERRA’S POVI pulled into Roman’s driveway, cut the engine, and sat there for a moment, letting the frustration from the drive settle over me before I even stepped out of the car. I wanted him to see exactly how unhappy I was the second he opened the door.He answered on the second knock, and before I could say a single word, he leaned in and kissed me briefly before stepping aside to let me in. He was already reaching for a glass of wine he’d apparently poured in anticipation of my arrival.“How are you feeling?” he asked, handing it to me. “And how’s the baby?”I ignored both questions, setting the glass down untouched on the nearest table.“Why did you approach the Wilsons yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharp as I got straight to what had been eating at me the entire drive over. “We agreed you wouldn’t speak to them directly. I gave you every signal I could think of to stay away from us, and you still walked right over.”“There was nothing wrong with what I did,” Roman said, entire

MILES’ POVI stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over Arthur’s contact before I finally tapped call. Someone was probably just trying to mess with me, playing some kind of sick, poorly thought-out prank. Sure, the old man hadn’t been feeling entirely himself lately, complaining occasionally about fatigue and his heart acting up here and there. But collapsing? Out of nowhere? He was still kicking around this place like a man half his actual age, still sharp enough to run circles around most of the executives at his own company. That wasn’t something that could just happen overnight.The phone rang, and rang, and eventually rolled over to voicemail.I frowned, hanging up immediately and trying again, refusing to let the small flicker of unease building in my chest turn into anything real just yet. Still nothing. Straight to voicemail a second time.Okay. Fine. Maybe he was simply asleep, his phone left somewhere across the room, out of earshot. That was probably a

MILES’ POVThe drive back home passed in a blur, my mind working through numbers I didn’t fully trust yet. I kept making rough calculations of exactly what percentage of the company Zach’s original share might have represented and how much of that would now presumably funnel toward a child who wasn’t even biologically his, despite what Grandfather believed. Millions, probably. Possibly more, depending on how Grandfather had structured the trust. Enough that losing even a fraction of it to an infant who couldn’t even hold his own head up yet felt like an insult I wasn’t prepared to simply swallow.There had to be a way to fix this before it became permanent.The obvious solution, the one my mind kept circling back to no matter how many times I tried talking myself out of it, was the will itself. If I could somehow get my hands on it and make the right adjustments before anything was finalized, this entire problem could disappear before it ever became real.But even as the thought forme

CIERRA'S POVI waited until Miles had disappeared into his study, the door clicking shut behind him, before slipping quietly out onto the back terrace, phone already pressed against my ear before I'd even fully stepped outside. The air was cool against my skin, and I glanced back toward the house once, making sure none of the staff were lingering anywhere near the windows, before Roman finally picked up on the third ring."I need to talk to you," I said, keeping my voice low despite the empty space surrounding me."What's going on?" he asked, his tone sharpening instantly, alert the way it always got whenever I called outside our usual arranged times."Miles just told me something," I said, my pulse still racing with everything I'd learned barely an hour ago. "Arthur's already updated his will. Our baby, the one everyone believes belongs to Zach, has been written in to inherit whatever share Zach was originally set to receive."There was a brief pause on the line, long enough that I a

DMITRI’S POVMy phone began buzzing against the desk, and I paused mid-sentence, my eyes lifting from the documents in front of me toward the screen lying face-down beside my hand.Don’t tell me that’s her calling now.Her double texting earlier had already crossed a line I hadn’t given her permission to cross, but an actual phone call during work hours, without so much as asking whether I was even available, felt like an entirely different level of presumption. Nobody simply woke up one morning and decided they could call me whenever it suited them, not after years of silence, not without earning that access back first.I picked up the phone, fully prepared to decline the call outright, but the name flashing across the screen wasn’t hers at all.Arthur.My brows drew together in genuine surprise. He’d had my number for years, and in all that time, he’d never once actually called me directly, always preferring to arrange meetings through assistants or run into me at whatever event our