My Ex-Husband’s Billionaire Boss Wants Me. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Gigi. I stood in the middle of my kitchen. The apartment felt too quiet after Gemma stormed out. The half-empty coffee mug was still on the counter, already lukewarm. I kept hearing her words in my head.“You betrayed my trust.”A dry laugh escaped me, but it didn’t last. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to calm the frustration building inside me."Unbelievable," I muttered to the empty room, rubbing my hands together. "I saved her from handing her life savings over to that parasitic leech of an ex-husband, and somehow I’m the villain."I pulled my phone out, staring at the blank screen. Part of me wanted to call her back, to scream until she understood that I spent my entire life watching people walk all over the women in my family because nobody stood up for them. My mother took twenty years of emotional abuse before she found the courage to walk away, and I swore on my life I’d never sit back and watch any woman end up like that.I shoved my phone into my pocket. Gemma was le

Angela.“Why the hell are you screaming?” I asked, irritated.Richard didn’t even look up from his laptop. His hair was messy, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey sat right next to his elbow. He looked ten years older than the man I had stolen from Gemma.“That bitch Gemma just called me asking stupid questions!” he snarled, rubbing his red, bloodshot eyes.The moment her name left his mouth, a spike of pure rage hit my chest. I didn't even wait for him to finish his complaint.“Gemma? Again?” I snapped, my voice rising. “I am sick and tired of every single conversation in this house being about Gemma! Why is she even calling you?”“She thinks I blocked her little restaurant lease! As if I have time for her pathetic dreams while my company is falling apart!”“Then stop letting her rent space in your head!” I let out a dry, nasty laugh. “You sound pathetic, Richard. No wonder Julian is wiping the floor with you. A real man doesn’t let another man destroy his company, and he certainly do

Gemma.“If you put that much lemon in a hollandaise sauce again, Chef Lorenzo is going to make you prep fifty pounds of potatoes by hand,” Ethan said.I laughed, leaning back against the booth. “I didn't mean to. The bottle slipped.”“Two times?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. He took a sip of his water, a small grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.“Okay, maybe three times.” I looked down at my plate of pasta. The restaurant was quiet and warm. Soft lights hung from the ceiling. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed. I wasn't checking over my shoulder every time someone walked past our table.Two hours earlier, I was sitting on my couch in my sweatpants, staring at my phone. Every time the screen lit, my chest squeezed or when a car pulled up on the street outside my window, I froze, waiting to see if someone was getting out to look up at my apartment.When the doorbell rang at six o'clock, I jumped off the couch in fear.It was just Ethan standing in the hallway, wearing a simple blue s

Gemma.I woke up before my alarm went off.My chest didn't feel heavy when I opened my eyes. The pain behind my forehead was gone. I lay in bed for a few minutes, staring up at the white ceiling, just listening to the noise of the city outside.A quiet knock sounded at my bedroom door, and Gigi peeked her head inside, holding two hot mugs of coffee.“You’re actually awake,” she said, stepping into the room. She handed me a mug and leaned against my dresser, watching me over the rim of her cup. “And you don't look like a zombie today. What happened last night?”“Julian drove me home,” I said quietly.Gigi raised an eyebrow. “And?”“He knows about the phone calls,” I said, looking down at my coffee. “He knows about the hospital, too. He was angry at first, Gigi. Really angry. But then… he told me he doesn't want any man coming near me.”Gigi stopped mid-sip. Her eyes went wide.“He said that?” She asked, a small smile spreading across her face. “Julian Ferguson actually said that out l

Gemma.The afternoon sun hit my eyes as soon as I stepped out of the clinic, making me blink. I stood on the sidewalk, holding my test results tightly against my stomach while watching cars pass by.Dr. Harris’s words kept repeating in my head. Desperate to pull myself together before I broke down in public, I opened my purse, shoved the folder inside, zipped it up, and walked to my car.The drive back to my penthouse felt like a nightmare. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling against the steering wheel, and my heart felt crushed. I was finally rebuilding my life. Now, just when things were going right, my own body was giving out on me.When I first knew I was sick, I tried to ignore it. I wanted to pretend none of it was real and just keep moving forward. But alone in my car, I couldn’t hide from it anymore.The fear, anger, and heartbreak I’d been shoving down came rushing up all at once. I pulled over to the side of the road, buried my face in my hands, and cried. My chest burned, and