My Husband Brought His Mistress Home のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

MILES’ POV I took the last bite of the roasted chicken on my plate, chewing slowly before finally setting my utensils down, satisfied. Dinner had been a good call before heading out, something to settle my nerves before the night actually began. I was already dressed, my suit fitting exactly the way I wanted it, and now that the meal was finished, there was nothing left standing between me and the door except time itself, which was quickly running out. I glanced down at my watch, doing the math in my head. The gala would be starting soon, and the last thing I wanted was to walk in late, missing the opening remarks or, worse, the moment they started calling out company names for recognition. Grandfather had made it more than clear how much this night mattered, and I wasn’t about to give him another reason to lecture me about appearances. I wiped my mouth, grabbed my phone off the table, and had just started to rise from my chair when I heard the distinct click of heels on the stairc

MILES’ POV Grandfather let out a slow, heavy sigh, his eyes dropping to the floor as he crossed the room and pulled out one of the dining chairs, lowering himself into it as though his legs had suddenly given up under the weight of everything he’d just heard. “I have a great-grandson on the way,” he said quietly, almost to himself, as if he were still turning the words over, making sure they were real. “And it’s Zach’s.” “If he were here, he’d be jumping around with joy right now,” I said, hoping the line landed the way I needed it to, one last nail hammered firmly into place. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Grandfather asked, looking up at Cierra. “Because it’s still a lot to take in, sir,” Cierra said, her voice trembling just enough. “Things have been so hard for me. When I first found out, I actually considered ending the pregnancy because I couldn’t bear the thought of this child growing up without a father. That’s the cruelest thing any parent could do to their own child.

ANABEL’S POV A soft chime rang through the hall, and the low hum of conversation gradually faded as a host stepped up to the small podium near the front of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention. Representing Ambercaz this evening, please welcome Mrs. Anabel Wilson.” My stomach dropped slightly at the sound of my own name echoing through the microphone, a hundred faces turning in near-perfect unison toward where I stood. I smoothed my hands down the front of my gown, grateful I’d chosen something fitted enough that it wouldn’t shift awkwardly with every step, then made my way carefully toward the small stage, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor. I reached the podium, adjusted the microphone slightly, and let my eyes sweep briefly across the room before settling into the words I’d memorized so many times over the past week that they’d finally begun to feel like my own. “Good evening, everyone,” I began, my voice steadier than I actually fel

ANABEL’S POV "Grandfather, Miles didn’t tell you what happened between us after I left?” I asked, watching his expression carefully, trying to gauge exactly how much he already knew and how much I was about to be forced to reveal. “Miles told me a great many things after you left,” he said, his tone measured and thoughtful. “He showed me things about you too. But I refused to believe any of it until I heard it confirmed directly from you.” Something tightened in my chest at that. Whatever Miles had told him, it clearly hadn’t painted me in a flattering light, which was likely exactly why Grandfather wanted to hear the truth from my own mouth instead of simply accepting his grandson’s version of events. He knew me well enough, had known me long enough, to question whatever accusations Miles had thrown my way, and that quiet loyalty, that stubborn refusal to believe the worst of me without proof, made what I was about to tell him hurt even more. The fact that he’d chosen not to simp

DMITRI’S POVSo she’s still married to Arthur’s grandson, then. I turned the thought over as I walked away from their conversation, something about it sitting slightly off in my mind, though I couldn’t immediately place why it bothered me as much as it did.If that were true, though, why wasn’t she staying at the Wilson mansion? And why, in all the times I’d seen her since that first night at the lounge, had I never once noticed a wedding ring on her hand? It had been obvious enough, from the little Arthur had said, that they were still legally married, still technically husband and wife. But the longer I turned it over, the more I found myself quietly concluding that perhaps a divorce was already underway, something Arthur himself hadn’t fully grasped yet, or hadn’t wanted to grasp.Because even accounting for whatever disagreement Arthur had vaguely referenced between them, something about the picture still didn’t add up cleanly. Married couples argued constantly, that much I unders