I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 48 - 49 Rhys’s POV: Damage Control

Chapter 48: Chapter 49 Rhys’s POV: Damage Control

The Granger family living room looked like a war zone—overturned vases, a half-shattered wine glass bleeding red across the rug, and a smashed photo frame face-down on the floor, glass splinters glittering like shrapnel.

Clive Granger’s slap cracked through the air. ‘I should’ve had a vasectomy.’

Rhys winced, hand on his cheek. ‘I just thought—’

‘You thought?’ Another slap. ‘You thought wrong, dumbass. You said Mirabelle was obsessed with you. That she’d still marry you even if you were screwing your way through Skyline. And now what? She’s walked. You couldn’t even keep a woman. Jesus, Rhys, I can’t walk anywhere without someone stopping me to ask about you and Catherine Vane. Everyone knows.’

‘Um, we never actually told anyone about—’

‘Bullshit!’ Clive’s palm met skin again.

Rhys’s head snapped sideways.

He didn’t fight back. Wouldn’t dare.

Not when his dad looked one blood vessel away from a cardiac arrest.

‘You think people are blind?’ Clive yelled. ‘You embarrassed this family at the Laurents’ party. Hell, even their dog probably knows what you’ve been up to. And now you’re standing there pretending like you’ve been all discreet and under the radar? Pathetic.’

Rhys just stood there, head bowed.

Clive turned on Louisa next. ‘And you just handed over the ring? Are you out of your mind? That thing was the only leverage we had. She gives it back, wedding’s officially dead.’

Louisa crossed her arms. ‘She brought the marriage certificate. What do you expect me to do—eat the paper and pretend it never existed?’

Clive slammed the table so hard the crystal tray jumped. ‘Mirabelle Vance is a brat. Getting secretly married? She clearly thinks our family’s a joke. Did her parents forget to teach her basic respect?’

Louisa sat down. ‘Don’t drag Mira into this. You know damn well who the problem is. If your golden boy wasn’t out playing sugar daddy to every influencer with a fake tan, maybe Mirabelle wouldn’t have snapped. You want someone to blame? Look in the mirror. He’s your clone, Clive—arrogant, spoiled, and dumb enough to light a match in a gas leak.’

Clive’s mouth opened, then shut.

Louisa’s eyes were drilling holes into her husband. ‘Rhys clearly inherited your talent for screwing around.’

Clive looked away. ‘What kind of nonsense is that supposed to be?’

‘You kept a side piece for years,’ Louisa said with a bitter little laugh. ‘And surprise, surprise, your son turned out just like you.’

‘You—’ Clive’s voice cracked like old wood.

Willow jumped in. ‘Mum, stop. Dad cut things off with that woman ages ago.’

Louisa’s eyes glossed over with rage.

She jerked her arm free from Willow’s grip.

Willow tried again, desperate now. ‘The problem isn’t some ancient fling. It’s that Mirabelle married someone else. That’s why Dad’s losing it.’

‘And she bloody well should have!’ Louisa hissed. ‘She’s too good for your brother anyway.’

Rhys gave Willow a look, one of those silent ‘get her out of here before someone has an aneurysm’ expressions.

Willow caught it and looped an arm around Louisa.

‘Mum, come upstairs. Doc said you shouldn’t get worked up again so soon after getting out of the hospital. Why don’t you come and see something I’ve got? I went to that new spa today, and they gave me a face mask that’s basically Botox in a jar. You’ve got to try it.’

She hustled Louisa out, talking about serums and collagen like their family wasn’t currently imploding.

As soon as they’d disappeared upstairs, Clive turned to Rhys. ‘My study. Now.’

‘Mirabelle’s married,’ Clive said as soon as the study door was shut. ‘The wedding’s off. Invitations are already out. How do you plan on cleaning up this circus?’

Rhys stared at the mahogany desk like it had answers. ‘I’ll just... tell everyone it’s cancelled?’

Clive looked ready to strangle him with a Hermès tie. ‘The whole of Skyline City thinks you cheated on her. Do you have any idea what this does to the Granger name?’

Rhys shrugged. ‘We’ll survive. We’ve survived worse.’

In his head, he still believed his mum had a point—if his dad could parade a mistress around back in the day and still close deals like nothing happened, why was everyone acting like his thing with Catherine was some moral apocalypse?

At least Catherine was his actual soulmate.

Mirabelle had been forced on him by his parents, a fiancée he’d never even wanted.

Now that Mirabelle was out and Catherine was back, everything felt right again. Balanced.

Like the universe had finally course-corrected.

Rhys genuinely didn’t get what all the fuss was about.

Clive let out a loud, weary sigh.

A sigh filled with disappointment.

Rhys didn’t miss it.

If anything, it fuelled the slow-burn fury he’d been stewing in all day.

It was all Mirabelle’s fault, really.

She hadn’t even given him a warning before she’d gone and married herself off.

Like, what the hell?

She used to follow him around like a puppy in heels.

Wide eyes, soft voice, always so eager to please.

Even when he messed up—especially when he messed up—she forgave him with this ridiculous belief that he’d eventually grow up.

And now she was someone else’s wife.

Rhys’s jaw clenched.

His fingers drummed on the edge of the armchair like they were itching to hit something.

Fine. She wanted to play dirty?

So could he.

His dad finally spoke. ‘Thanks to your personal soap opera, people are saying the Grangers don’t honour deals. That we break promises. Three contracts dead in the water this month.’

He looked at his only son. ‘Now do you see what the big deal is?’