All Chapters of Untouched for Three Years: Leaving My Billionaire Husband: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Then tell me what concern is.” Margaret’s voice rose by half a note.She turned toward Rebecca, who stood in the corner with her hands at her sides. The contempt in Margaret’s eyes was no longer being concealed.“She has been married into the Bradford family for three years and has contributed nothing. No child. No social value. She cannot even manage a proper dinner. The last time I brought guests here, the soup she served was cold.”Rebecca’s lashes trembled.The soup had gone cold because Vance had announced, at the last minute, that he was bringing clients home. By the time she carried it from the kitchen to the dining room, it had been sitting for ten minutes. What Margaret did not know was that Rebecca had started preparing it at eight that morning and simmered it for four hours.“A woman who cannot even give this family a child,” Margaret continued, her voice low and hard, “has no place standing in this house. What is she supposed to be? Decoration? She cannot even manage that

Rebecca lay in bed facing the window, her back turned toward the door.She closed her eyes and tried not to think.Not about whether Vance would come to this room tonight. Not about what he had said downstairs—This is my marriage—and whether he had meant to protect her, or merely his own right to decide what belonged to him.Then the door opened.Her body tightened before she could stop it.She did not turn around. She did not even open her eyes. But she knew it was him. She caught the familiar trace of cedar, mixed with the warmth of his skin and the cool air of the hallway. His footsteps were almost soundless on the carpet, yet she felt him approaching—the height of him, the silence of him, the pressure he brought into a room without ever needing to raise his voice.The mattress dipped beside her.He lay down.Not at the usual distance.Rebecca could feel the warmth of his body through the thin sheet, slow and close, like heat from a fire she had not expected to be allowed near. Her

Vance’s voice was lower than usual, still rough from what had almost happened, but the urgency in it was unmistakable.“Vance… I’m sorry to call so late…”Catherine’s voice came through the phone in a tearful tremble, made painfully clear by the stillness of the bedroom.“I’m at the Anchor, near the bridge. I think I drank too much. Some men keep trying to talk to me, and my stomach hurts so badly. I’m scared, Vance…”Rebecca lay on the bed with the sheet drawn over her, her nightdress still creased from his hands. The warmth that had gathered between them over the past ten minutes seemed to vanish all at once, leaving only the cold air against her skin and a hollow numbness spreading through her body.Vance turned to look at her.His grey-blue eyes were a storm of confusion, lingering desire tangled with sudden alarm. His fingers tightened around the phone.“Rebecca,” he said, his voice strained, “she’s alone at a bar. She needs me—”“Go.”Rebecca cut him off.Her voice was flat. Not

The commotion in the next booth grew louder.Catherine stood unsteadily in her heels, half leaning against Vance as if her body no longer knew how to hold itself upright. She wiped at her tears with the back of one hand, her voice thick with drink and grievance.“Vance, I only said I liked swimming. I don’t understand why that coach had to humiliate me in front of everyone. Just because I wasn’t trained professionally, does that mean I deserved to be looked down on?”Vance’s brows were drawn tight. He had always despised scenes in public. In business, he was decisive to the point of coldness, the kind of man who ended problems before they had time to become embarrassing. But Catherine was crying, her face pale and wet beneath the bar’s low amber lights, and in the end his hand hovered at her waist, keeping her steady without quite pulling her close.“That’s enough,” he said quietly. “You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll take you home.”“I haven’t had too much!” Catherine turned her head

Rebecca’s words drew a line Vance could no longer cross.He stood in the narrow passage between the booths, caught in the shifting light from the bar, listening as she spoke another man’s name in a tone he had never heard from her before—soft, familiar, almost trusting.Liam.The name struck him with a dull force.He wanted to stay. He wanted to demand an explanation, to tear Liam’s coat from her shoulders, to ask why she could sit there so quietly beneath another man’s protection while refusing even to look at her own husband.But the irony of the situation left him with nowhere to stand.Catherine was still crying against him. The swimmers at Rebecca’s table watched him with open hostility. Even the waiter approaching from the bar had begun to look at him as though he were the problem that needed to be removed.For once, Vance Bradford was the outsider.He forced down the dark pressure gathering behind his eyes, tightened his hold on Catherine, and led her back into the shadows that