บททั้งหมดของ From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 25

The quiet hum of the high-speed elevator was the only sound breaking the late-night silence as it ascended toward the top floor of the Grayson Estate. The chaotic roar of the Astoria Ballroom, the blinding flashbulbs of the press, and the pathetic, shattered faces of Oscar and Maeve felt a world away. Inside the private glass car, the air was cool, smelling faintly of leather and cedar. Adelaide leaned slightly back against the glass wall, letting out a long, quiet breath. The adrenaline that had sustained her through the gauntlet of five thousand eyes was finally beginning to ebb, leaving behind a deep, heavy exhaustion. Yet her spine remained straight, her posture regal within the structural fold of her emerald silk gown. Beside her, Dean stood with his hands resting casually in his tuxedo pockets. His broad shoulders filled the space, his dark silhouette imposing, but the dangerous, predatory tension he had radiated all evening had melted away into something quiet and watchful.

The double doors of Blackwood Hall’s main dining room opened into a space that felt less like a home and more like a cathedral dedicated to old money. High vaulted ceilings, dark mahogany paneling, and portraits of stern Grayson ancestors stared down at the massive lace-covered table. Sitting along the length of the table were the inner circle of the Grayson dynasty—uncles, aunts, senior cousins, and board members who held the family’s secondary trusts. At the center sat Oscar and Maeve, both dressed in understated, conservative attire meant to signal traditional elegance. And at the head of the long table sat Matriarch Victoria Grayson, framed by the amber glow of towering silver candelabras. The low murmur of conversation instantly ceased the moment Adelaide stepped into the room. She wore a midnight-navy sheath gown of her own design—impeccably tailored, with sharp, structural lapels that framed her collarbone like modern armor. Her dark hair was swept up into a clean, regal k

The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind Adelaide and Leo, leaving the ancestral dining room in a silence so profound that the soft ticking of the grand grandfather clock in the corner sounded like thunder. For three long seconds, no one moved. No one drew a breath. The sheer spectacle of the reclusive heir seeking out Adelaide—and addressing her with such casual, affectionate intimacy—had turned the entire room on its axis. Then, Aunt Evelyn let out a sharp, forced laugh, cutting through the stillness like a dull knife. "Well," Evelyn murmured, swirling her white wine with an airy, dismissive shake of her head. "Isn't that... sweet. Though I must say, allowing a child to interrupt a formal family dinner over a simple drawing is rather unrefined. A proper mother would have instructed the boy to wait in his quarters until the adults finished their meal. It only proves Adelaide lacks the structure to raise a Grayson heir." The words had barely left Evelyn’s lips when a sharp, deafen