I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 27 - 28 Complicated

Chapter 27: Chapter 28 Complicated

My brain was doing somersaults.

I knew the Laurents were throwing this party, but I’d thought Ashton was just a guest, not the bloody host himself.

Ashton hadn’t exactly lied to me, but neither had he told me the full truth.

Then something his friend had said earlier lit up in my head, and I rounded back: ‘If this is your house, why the hell did you rent the flat opposite mine at Oakwood Apartments?’

Ashton looked me dead in the eye. ‘Oakwood’s my company’s development. The whole building’s mine. I stay there sometimes.’

‘That’s how you knew I’d moved there. I’m your... tenant.’

He nodded.

Another memory hit me between the eyes. ‘And La Vache Dorée? You own that restaurant too?’

He nodded.

‘And the bar?’ Damn it, I couldn’t even remember its name. ‘The one where we... the night we...’

Another nod.

My emotions were doing the cha-cha. Badly.

Since the day I met him, Ashton had given off a dangerous aura, not murderer-dangerous, more like apex-predator-dangerous. The height, the build, the lethal arms that looked like they could punch through drywall, the unreadable eyes—you’d have to be suicidal not to flinch.

And yet.

He’d picked up my keys when I dropped them and driven halfway across the city to return them.

He’d gone along with my drunken, desperate one-night-stand plan without a flicker of judgement.

He’d even offered to fake an engagement to help me get my pushy parents off my back.

Somewhere in my idiot brain, I’d filed him under ‘dangerous but good-hearted’.

Now, though, knowing he literally owned half of Skyline City and more, the pressure crushed down on me like a hydraulic press.

I didn’t know what I felt.

Shock, sure.

But it was more than that.

It was like thinking you’d adopted a scrappy little kitten, only to realise you’d been cuddling a bloody tiger.

The room went dead silent.

Then Yvaine mumbled, ‘I, ah, I can’t wear this. I need to change. Cas, come with me.’

She grabbed the man’s arm and bolted out of the room.

‘I’ll put the first-aid kit back,’ Ashton said, disappearing into the en suite bathroom.

I heard Yvaine’s voice outside: ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me he was Ashton Laurent?’

The man she called Cas shot back, ‘How was I supposed to know you’d met him before? And why’re you dragging me off? I haven’t even asked about the bloody engagement yet!’

‘Did you not hear? They’re engaged.’

‘No way! Ashton’s been in love with someone for years. What’s this engagement bullshit?’

‘What? What someone? Who is it? Spit it out—’

Their voices faded as they stormed down the hall.

I sat there, the echoes of their argument fizzing through my skull.

‘Complicated’ did not even begin to cover it.

If what Ashton’s friend said was true, that he was in love with someone else, why’d he agree to be fake-engaged to me?

I heard the footsteps before I saw them.

Rhys shoved the door open. ‘Mirabelle! Have you lost your bloody mind? Apologise to Catherine! And that idiot bestie of yours, yelling about you calling off the engagement, embarrassing me in front of the whole city! Was that your idea?’

I tilted my head, brows pulling tight. I’d just managed to cool off, but Rhys’s voice was like lighter fluid on a barbecue.

‘Rhys,’ I said sweetly, ‘we’re already done. Yvaine was just telling the truth.’

‘We’re not done unless I say we’re done!’ He scowled. ‘We’ll talk about that later. Catherine’s face is swollen thanks to you. Don’t you feel the tiniest bit guilty?’

Behind him, Catherine clung to his sleeve like a human handkerchief.

‘I’m fine,’ she said in a tiny voice. ‘If she doesn’t want to apologise to me, whatever. But she should apologise to the Laurents. The ballroom’s a total mess now. The party’s basically ruined before it even began.’

Rhys gave her hand a patronising pat, then turned back to me. ‘Cathy’s right. You need to apologise to the Laurents. Publicly. Immediately. Or I’ll—’

The words barely left his mouth when the bathroom door behind me swung open.

Ashton strode past me, planting himself right in Rhys’s face. ‘She’s not apologising to anyone.’

Rhys blinked at him, thrown off for half a second.

I could see the wheels in his brain creaking under the weight.

He’d seen Ashton downstairs earlier, thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place him.

In his tiny little mind, that meant one thing: I’d picked up some random loser.

Rhys’s nostrils flared. He looked Ashton up and down like he was some discount handbag.

‘And who the fuck are you supposed to be?’

I couldn’t see Ashton’s face, but he must have done something that made Rhys stiffen.

‘This is the Laurent family’s turf!’ Rhys gulped, voice cracking. ‘You’ve got no say here. And whatever’s going on between me and Mirabelle is none of your damn business either. If you’ve got half a brain, you’ll get lost.’

Ashton took half a step forward.

Rhys flinched and staggered back before he even knew what he was doing.

Before anyone could throw a punch, someone knocked once and pushed the door open. ‘Boss, I got the footage.’

Footage?

I saw Rhys’s right eyelid twitching like crazy, and judging by the way he was suddenly sweating through his shirt, he was about to have a very bad day.

‘Boss? What...?’

Then I saw realisation dawn in his eyes.

I caught Rhys giving Ashton a double take.

For a second, I almost pitied him. Almost.

Rhys opened his mouth, probably about to dig himself even deeper, but Catherine jumped in first, her voice wobbling. ‘W-what footage?’

Ashton did not even spare her a glance. He was busy watching the tablet the newcomer handed to him, face carved out of pure ice.

‘Put it up on the main screen,’ he said. ‘First floor. Play it on loop. Full volume.’

‘Got it, boss.’ The man nodded and spoke into his earpiece.