All Chapters of Mistress to my Ex's Billionaire Uncle : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

"George is in the ICU" Ethan had said when Damien picked up his call yesterday.The return flight is nothing like the one that brought us to Monaco.We are all seated under the suffocating uneasy hush that has begun to blanket every single one of us.My mind is still thinking about yesterday, the yacht date, the kiss, the look in Damien’s eyes that had assured me for a moment that no other person on this earth had mattered… it’s only Damien’s voice that occupies the space in my head.Damien sits across from me. He hasn’t moved much for the past hour. His coffee has gone cold. He's looking out the window, but I know he isn't really seeing anything clearly.For the first time since I've met Damien Hartwell, he looks worried. Not the controlled, calculating concern I've come to expect from him, This is different. This is about his family.---------The moment the jet lands, everything happens quickly. Cars are already waiting on the runway. My suitcase is taken before I’ve even touched

I stand in the courthouse corridor and I hear the official's words and my brain does the thing it does when information is too large to process immediately, It just goes quiet. [The witness is missing.]I walk back to Barrister Becker on legs that feel borrowed."His number," I say without preamble. "I need Witness Bryce's number right now."Becker looks at me carefully. Then he opens his phone and reads it out twice and I dial it before he repeats the last digit.The automated response comes immediately.[The number you have dialed does not exist.]Not unreachable?. Not switched off?. Not going to voicemail?But “Does not exist?”Which means the number was disconnected deliberately. Which also means whoever took Bryce had enough time to dismantle everything before anyone noticed he was gone.I dial it again because that's what you do when you can't accept the first answer.[The number you have dialed does not exist.]I lower my phone slowly."Aria." Elena's hand finds my arm."Some

I adjust in my seat.“Three people?” I ask and Aldridge nods"The three individuals," Aldridge says, folding his hands on the desk with unique composure. "are Mr. Harrison Banks, Mr. Theodore Crane and—" He pauses only because he's reading from memory, not for effect. "Mr. Damien Hartwell."For a moment, I thought I'd gone deafThe room suddenly feels like it's rotating.The cedar smell is still there. The bolts of fabric are still on the shelves. Edmund Aldridge is still sitting across from me with his measuring tape around his neck and his glasses pushed up on his forehead.Everything is exactly the same as it was twenty minutes ago.But I am not, I can feel my face turning paleDamien's name sits in my chest like something dropped from a height."Miss Sinclair." Aldridge leans forward slightly. "Are you alright?"I realize I haven't moved or spoken in an uncomfortable amount of time."Are you certain?" My voice comes out surprisingly steady. "About Damien Hartwell specifically.""

Why did I agree to meet Ethan?Because he hadn't really given me a choice. The moment I saw his last message, I knew exactly which photos he meant. The ones from when we were together. our private and intimate moments. Harmless by themselves, the kind of photos that means nothing until the wrong person decides to make it mean everything.And after everything that had already happened with Victoria Hale— the press conference, the fake engagement, the endless headlines and the pile-on that followed, I knew exactly how people would react to these photos if they leaked. The internet was never going to bother with context. All anyone would see is that Damien Hartwell's girlfriend used to date his nephew, and that would be enough. Another scandal. Another excuse to drag Hartwell Holdings through the mud. Another reason for strangers who'd never met me to decide who I was.I couldn't let that happen. Not after everything Damien had already given up because of me.So here I am, standing ou

"I killed them. What are you going to do about it?"The words set off every alarm in my head. But strangely, fear isn't what I feel. I don't know what I feel. I just stand there and watch him walk past me into the living room like he'd said nothing at all.“Damien.”He keeps walking.“You can't be serious.”He laughs dryly, without turning. “Why not? I've confessed.” He spreads his hands lazily, voice dripping sarcasm. “Call the police. Isn't that what people do when someone admits to murder?” He glances back over his shoulder. “Or is this not the confession you were hoping for?”“Wait,” I yell. “Talk to me.”He paused but didn't turn around.“What do you want from me, Aria?” he asked. “You have already made up your mind. I'm guilty.” “I admitted to it. So believe me.” His shoulders tense. “Pick a side. You can't keep standing in the middle.”He turns at last, dark eyes finding mine. “If I'm innocent, trust me. If I'm guilty—” his jaw tightens, “—then stop looking at me like you're ho