All Chapters of My Husband Brought His Mistress Home: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

MILES’ POV “Done? Done with what?” I asked, taking a step closer, a cold, uneasy feeling already settling in my chest. I had a bad feeling about exactly where this was heading, some part of me already bracing for the words before he even said them. It couldn’t be what I was already starting to imagine. There was no way. Not after everything I’d already invested in this family, in this company, in carving out my place here since the day I was old enough to understand what any of it actually meant. “You’re done with everything that has to do with Wilson Corporation,” Arthur said, his voice flat and final, carrying none of the warmth I’d grown so accustomed to hearing from him over the years. “You’re done with everything that has to do with my name.” My eyes widened, my mouth falling open as a sharp breath escaped me. “Whoa, whoa, Grandfather, let’s slow down and actually think about this. You can’t do this to me.” Panic crept into my voice despite my best efforts to keep it steady,

MILES’ POVMy foot pressed harder into the accelerator, the vehicle surging faster despite the fact that it was already evening. Headlights streaked past me in both directions as I weaved through traffic without much regard for the actual rules of the road. I blew straight through a red light at one intersection, several surrounding cars laying hard on their horns in protest, but none of that registered properly through the storm raging inside my head. Horns, red lights, other drivers, none of it mattered right now. I was angry, furious in a way I hadn’t felt in years, and every part of me wanted an outlet for it.Angry at myself, mostly, if I let myself sit with the feeling for even a second. I’d had a good life. A genuinely good life, the kind most people spent their entire existence chasing and never actually catching. And instead of holding onto it, treasuring it the way any sane person would have, I’d let greed take over completely. I’d wanted more. More than what I already had,

DMITRI’S POV“I hope that asshole didn’t ruin your mood this evening?” I said to Anabel as we walked into the restaurant together, the warm glow from the entrance softening the tension that still visibly lingered in her shoulders.I felt like I had to ask. She’d been quiet for most of the drive over, staring out the window and clearly still processing everything that had just happened outside her apartment. I understood why. Watching Miles show up like that, threatening her and grabbing her arm the way he had, would rattle anyone, regardless of how composed they usually managed to stay under pressure.“No, he didn’t,” she said, though the tightness in her voice suggested otherwise. “But you can clearly see exactly why I want him completely out of my life for good.”“I can,” I said. “Some people just can’t seem to accept a simple no. At this rate, it genuinely looked like he was ready to hurt you tonight, all because you told Arthur the truth.”“Luckily, you were there to stop him,” sh

MILES’ POVThe bartender set my fifth bottle down in front of me, though this time his movements were slower and more hesitant. His eyes lingered on me for a beat too long before he pulled his hand back.“You sure you want another one?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of genuine concern, though I honestly couldn’t care less whether it was genuine or just for the sake of some liability policy he was worried about.“Did I ask for your opinion?” I said, my words already dragging slightly at the edges. The alcohol was thick enough in my system now that even I could hear the slur creeping into my own voice. “Mind your own business. I’m the one paying the bill, not you.”“I’m just saying, man. Maybe slow down a little,” he tried again, wiping down the counter beside me, clearly not taking the hint.“You know what?” I said, letting out a short, humorless laugh. “At least you still have a job to worry about tomorrow morning. Count yourself lucky. Some of us aren’t quite so fortunate right

CIERRA’S POV “Ew, ew, ew,” I muttered, snatching my hands back from his belt the second I realized exactly what I was looking at. “No. Absolutely not. I am not touching him. I’m not taking that off with actual urine on it.” I stood there for a long moment, staring down at him sprawled across the bed, completely unconscious and utterly oblivious to the disgusting state he’d left himself in. Part of me genuinely considered just leaving him there exactly as he was, walking straight back downstairs, and sleeping in one of the guest rooms until morning. He could wake up in his own mess as some kind of poetic justice for whatever ridiculous bender he’d apparently gone on tonight. But realistically, I knew that wasn’t going to work. This was still my bedroom too, and I certainly wasn’t sleeping on some lumpy guest bed just because he’d decided to drink himself into a stupor and lose control of his bladder in the process. If I left him here like this, that smell would seep into everything,