All Chapters of The Billionaire's Scandalous Fat Wife : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Julian Stone's POVThe study was the one room in my life I'd never let a decorator touch.Everything in it I'd chosen myself, mostly photographs, floor to ceiling on the east wall —a warehouse lease from nineteen eighty-one with my signature still shaky from nerves, a groundbreaking ceremony where I was thinner and had considerably more hair, Ace at maybe six years old standing in a hard hat three sizes too big, gripping my hand like the building behind us might fall on him personally if he let go.Forty years of a company built one uncomfortable decision at a time, and every photograph on that wall existed because I'd made the decision anyway.Harold had been my lawyerfor twenty-six of those years, and in all that time I'd rarely seen him look as uneasy as he looked sitting across from me that night with the share transfer documents spread between us."Thirty percent," he said again, like repeating the number might change my mind about it. "Julian. She's been married to your son for

Natasha's POV I walked into Bloom & Co. that morning feeling almost like myself again, which should have been my first warning that the day had other plans. It was such a small thing to be grateful for — my own desk, my own chipped mug, the particular smell of the office's terrible drip coffee that I'd complained about for three straight years and would apparently miss if it ever actually improved. One months of scandal and marriage and security details had made an ordinary Tuesday feel like a genuine luxury. I had a floral mockup to review for the Halloway anniversary party and a seating chart to argue with a caterer about, and for the length of the elevator ride up, none of it had anything to do with Ace Stone or laminated house rules or a locked closet frame I still hadn't told anyone about. Then I opened my email, and the morning ended. Subject: Re: Winter Gala — Withdrawal of Contract. I read it twice before it fully landed. The Whitfield account — six figur

Marcus's POV Six years. Six years working for Ace Stone, and in that time I had watched him cancel a state dinner invitation because the seating chart put him next to someone he didn't respect, walk out of a merger call mid-sentence because the other side lied about a number, and once, memorably, reschedule his own father's birthday lunch for a shareholder emergency that turned out, on closer inspection, not to have actually been much of an emergency at all. I had never once seen him reschedule a board call for a woman. That was what actually got my attention, more than the wedding scandal, more than the club video, more than any of the noise that had been swirling around Ace Stone's sudden marriage since the Harrington disaster. It was the small thing. Tuesday's quarterly infrastructure call, locked into his calendar eight weeks in advance, six board members dialing in from three time zones — and he'd bumped it forty minutes because Natasha needed to be at a hospital follow

Ace's POVHarrison Cole had been talking for what felt like ten minutes about a hospitality acquisition nobody on the board actually wanted, and I'd been nodding in the right places while doing the math on how much longer I could reasonably stand at this exact spot before it became rude to leave. My glass was still where I'd left it on the side table, and I reached for it without really looking, the automatic motion of a man who'd stood in a hundred identical rooms doing exactly this.I had it halfway to my mouth when Natasha appeared at my elbow, too fast, too bright, practically colliding into the conversation."Wait, actually — can I try that?" Loud. Louder than she needed to be, drawing eyes from two directions. "I've heard people talking about it all night, I want to know what everyone's obsessing over."For one unpleasant second, something in me went cold instead of curious.I'd spent enough years in rooms like this to know exactly what public embarrassment looked like dres

Natasha's POVPriya was waiting outside my office door when I arrived, which had never once happened in three years of working together, and the sight of her sitting on the floor against the wall, knees pulled up, coffee untouched beside her, told me before she said a single word that whatever this was, it wasn't good."You're here early," I said, unlocking the door."I didn't sleep." She followed me in and closed the door behind her, which she also never did, and sat down across from my desk with the careful posture of someone about to deliver news she'd rehearsed on the walk over and still wasn't sure how to start."Priya. You're scaring me a little.""I met with a woman last night. She reached out about a modeling client, said she ran a talent consultancy, wanted to grab drinks." Priya's hands were wrapped around her coffee cup like she needed something to hold onto. "It wasn't that. She took off her sunglasses about two minutes in and it was Noel."The name landed in my stomac