I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 203 - 204 Ashton’s POV: Midnight Race

Chapter 203: Chapter 204 Ashton’s POV: Midnight Race

The SUV sped past the border sign for Skyline City.

The rear tyres kicked up dust as the car veered onto the gravel shoulder, then corrected course and rejoined the lane.

Ashton pressed his thumb into his palm until it left a dent.

He hadn’t looked back after the police arrived at The Corner Table.

One phone call had been enough to get the paparazzo thrown into the back of a cruiser.

At first, he told himself her phone had died.

Then every call went to voicemail.

By the fifth attempt, he’d told Gino to drive straight to Sunset City—there were no flights at this hour, and he didn’t want to wait.

Dominic had called to say the event organisers weren’t picking up, probably asleep by now.

Their PR line forwarded every call straight to voicemail.

He’d tried the hotel next.

It turned out LGH owned the property, and Dominic had managed to get the manager’s number.

Ashton was reaching for the hotel phone when his own lit up.

Yvaine’s name appeared on screen.

[Mira said her phone got nicked. She’ll text when she can. Don’t panic.]

He replied: [Noted, thanks.]

He leaned back into the leather seat and let his head fall against the headrest.

The pressure in his temples started to ease.

His spine relaxed.

His breathing slowed, though not fully.

The view outside had changed.

Tower blocks gave way to low-rise buildings and shuttered shopfronts.

Now that he knew she was safe, he let himself relax—but only slightly.

He could have asked Yvaine for Mirabelle’s hotel room number and called her room phone.

But it was late.

And some things were better said in person.

So he didn’t tell Gino to turn back.

He opened the X app, freshly installed.

Each scroll brought more posts, more comments.

His name kept appearing next to Rowan Hale’s.

He tightened his grip on the phone and created a new account under his real name: Ashton_Laurent_LGH.

Within five minutes, someone messaged: [Is this actually you? When’s the wedding with Rowan?]

He almost threw the phone out the window.

His finger hovered over the tag bar.

He typed: [I’m married to @MVanceJewels]—then deleted it.

He stared at the screen.

More notifications. More tags.

The same two photos with Rowan Hale, reposted again and again under different accounts.

Her announcement hadn’t settled the rumours. It had only stirred them up again.

He closed the app.

Reopened it five seconds later.

Typed the message again. Deleted it again.

His finger paused over the keyboard.

He wanted to make it clear.

Wanted to shut the door behind Mirabelle and leave no room for questions.

But if she wasn’t ready, if she hadn’t agreed, that kind of move would only push her further away.

He backed out of the post.

Instead, he took a picture of his left hand, the ring prominently visible.

He uploaded the photo with a single caption: [Married.]

Then he hit post.

Notifications arrived immediately.

New comments, messages, tags.

He was about to open them when Dominic’s name lit up the screen.

‘Mr Laurent,’ Dominic said. His voice was tight. ‘The post with the wedding ring. That was... you?’

‘Yes,’ Ashton replied.

There was a pause.

He leaned back again.

The air conditioning ticked softly.

His phone kept vibrating—group chats, alerts, PR warnings.

He didn’t check any of them.

He already knew what Dominic was thinking.

The Rowan Hale rumours had barely cooled.

Now Ashton had poured fuel over what was left.

Dominic exhaled through his nose.

‘Mr Laurent,’ he said slowly, ‘was that post... spontaneous, or planned?’

In other words, could they still walk it back?

‘Planned,’ Ashton said.

‘Understood,’ Dominic replied. ‘I’ll speak to the comms team.’

The call ended.

Ten minutes later, LGH’s official account reposted Ashton’s photo.

Then came the statement.

It confirmed the post was genuine.

It stated that Ashton Laurent was married.

It denied the rumours involving Rowan Hale.

It warned that legal action would be taken against anyone spreading false claims.

Ashton watched it unfold on the screen.

Mentions and messages kept climbing.

A flurry of pop-ups filled the display.

One blue icon blinked—Venmo.

He frowned, assumed it was spam, and cleared the notification without reading it.

‘Sir, we’re nearly there,’ Gino said from the front.

Ashton nodded and closed his eyes.

Then the phone buzzed again.

He unlocked it, planning to shut the app, but froze when he saw the name at the top of the message list.

Mirabelle.

He sat up straight. His posture sharpened.

He tapped into the thread and scrolled to the top.

[Can you see this? It’s Mira.]

[I lost my phone. Got a new one but can’t log into anything. Venmo’s the only app that let me in.]

[You’re probably not checking this.]

[Forget it. I messaged Yvaine, she should’ve passed it on.]

[Nothing serious. Just didn’t want you worrying...]

[Guess you didn’t see any of this. Do you have the phone on Do Not Disturb?]

[Whatever. I’ll talk to you tomorrow after I get a new SIM.]

There were more. Short messages, scattered punctuation, no real structure.

She never messaged like this.

Now it read like she’d typed everything out in a rush.

Ashton scrolled slowly.

A faint smile pulled at his mouth.

He could picture her in bed, lying on her side, typing furiously with both thumbs.

Probably frowning at the screen.

Then another message arrived:

[You probably didn’t see any of this. I’m going to sleep. Night.]

A cartoon pig snored through a speech bubble.

Ashton typed quickly: [I saw it.]

Mirabelle responded right away:

[!!! You actually did???]

Ashton: [Yes.]

Mirabelle: [Good. Did Yvaine tell you I lost my phone?]

Ashton: [She did.]

Mirabelle: [You wouldn’t believe the shitshow this panel was. Phone vanished right under staff supervision. Had to buy my own replacement, and without a SIM card I couldn’t log in anywhere. You tried calling me, didn’t you?]

Ashton: [I did. I was worried.]

Mirabelle: [No need. I’m fine. Were you at that dinner with Rowan Hale tonight?]

She’d seen the photos.

Ashton: [Cassian invited me. I didn’t know she’d be there. When the pictures were taken, Cassian was standing next to me. It wasn’t a private dinner.]

Mirabelle: [I know. I didn’t believe anything they wrote. But there’s something off about Rowan Hale. Every time she’s near you, someone’s taking pictures. Headlines always twist the context.]