I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 86 - 87 Insults and Ingratiation

Chapter 86: Chapter 87 Insults and Ingratiation

Ashton might’ve chuckled.

He cleared his throat. ‘Mira, I think she said more than five million.’

I widened my eyes and let out a delighted little gasp. ‘Ohhh, that’s so generous of you!’

Gwendolyn nearly bit her tongue.

But she couldn’t back out now—not without losing face.

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she said, smile faltering.

She jabbed Reginald in the ribs, who was still stuck in buffering mode. ‘Reggie will handle it today, won’t you, Reggie?’

‘W-what?’ Reginald blinked. ‘Handle what?’

‘The transfer, the... gift,’ she hissed, before turning to me with a buttery smile. ‘It’s Mirabelle, right?’

‘Right.’ I shook her hand and resisted the urge to scrub mine with a disinfectant wipe.

‘Did you and Ashton just get married yesterday?’

‘No,’ I said, on guard.

‘No? Oh, I only asked because no one informed us about the wedding. I thought... well, never mind.’ She smiled indulgently. ‘Not a word to the parents—so typical of the younger generation, isn’t it? All impulse, no tradition.’

She gave Ashton a fond, mildly scolding look, like she actually thought of him as her own. Then back to me. ‘If it weren’t for Grandpa Edouard’s birthday, we’d have never known you two tied the knot. Such a shame, don’t you think?’

I nearly rolled my eyes.

Of course, she wouldn’t dare aim the thinly veiled dig at Ashton.

So the barbs came my way.

Did I look like a wide-eyed ingénue?

Maybe I didn’t care for all this veiled insult nonsense, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to volley back.

Before I could say a word, Ashton cut in. ‘You’re not my mother. And my wife doesn’t owe you a visit.’

Gwendolyn’s left cheek twitched, the smiling mask slipping a little.

Ashton didn’t lower his voice.

Didn’t care that the room was full of people pretending not to eavesdrop, even as their ears were twitching like antennae.

‘Ashton...’ Gwendolyn’s voice wobbled. A trembling hand pressed to her chest like she’d been stabbed. ‘All these years, I’ve treated you like my own son. I never once minded your... your situation, being born out of wedlock. How can you say that to me?’

She was already dabbing at her eyes.

I shot Ashton a glance, bracing for his reaction.

She hadn’t used the word exactly, but it hung there, unspoken—illegitimate.

I’d heard the whispers.

The moment Ashton returned to Skyline City, the gossip spread like wildfire.

There were different versions, some nastier than others.

I didn’t know which one was true, and I wasn’t close enough to him to ask.

Ashton’s face was granite.

If he was rattled, he didn’t show it.

‘Out of wedlock?’ he said coldly. ‘You know damn well who was the one cheating while still married.’

He shot Reginald a withering look, who seemed to have just realised he’d been bled of five million times two.

The colour drained from his face as the maths caught up with him.

Then Ashton turned to Gwendolyn.

‘If you want to make a scene in front of everyone, I’m more than happy to settle things right here.’

That was when the young man who’d been standing off to the side like a mildly interested bystander finally stepped in.

‘Ash, don’t say that about Mum,’ he said, not quite confrontational, more placating. ‘She didn’t mean anything by it, alright? She just meant you two haven’t come to visit. Chill out.’

That had to be Declan, Gwendolyn’s youngest and most coddled.

He had the kind of flawless skin, bright teeth and peachy complexion that only came from never having worked a day in his life.

Spoilt? Almost certainly.

Useless? Probably.

But at least he had enough guts to defend his mother, I’d give him that.

I knew he didn’t hold a position at any LGH subsidiary, which made sense the moment Ashton said:

‘Your stipend next month—’

He didn’t even need to finish.

Declan folded instantly.

He grabbed Ashton’s hand, then thought better of it and let go when Ashton didn’t return the gesture.

He gave a sheepish grin. ‘Come on, Ash, big bro, don’t do that to me. You’ve already cut my stipend twice in two months. Any more and I’ll be living under a bridge.’

Ashton said nothing, just tapped his finger against his arm, waiting.

Declan blinked, then lit up like he’d finally decoded the unspoken command.

He turned to me with a face-splitting grin.

‘Mirabelle, right? I’ve heard so much about you. Congrats on the wedding. May your future be filled with sunshine, rainbows, and ridiculous amounts of happiness. You and Ashton are perfect together. Anyone can see that.’

I shook the hand he offered. ‘Thank you.’

It was hard to dislike him, even knowing who his mother was.

Speaking of...

Declan added, ‘Don’t mind Mum. Half the time she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’

‘Declan!’ Gwendolyn snapped.

He waved her off like a fly. ‘Anyway, you should come round more. I can show you around. Or—’ He caught Ashton’s look and backpedalled fast. ‘Or Ash can show you. You’ve got to see the indoor pool. I redid the whole thing. It’s basically a spa now. You’d love it.’

Then he looked at Ashton like a golden retriever waiting for praise.

Ashton’s tone softened just a notch. ‘Your stipend’s as usual.’

Declan straightened. ‘Thanks, bro!’

I watched the easy rapport between them, fascinated.

I really liked that, despite Gwendolyn, Ashton didn’t hold it against Declan.

He even seemed to indulge him.

I didn’t learn the truth until much later: when Ashton had been shipped off overseas with barely enough stipend to cover food and shelter, it was Declan who’d quietly siphoned off money from his own generous allowance and sent it to him.

Proof that, occasionally, the apple does fall far from the tree.

Declan turned to Gwendolyn. ‘Mum, seriously, it’s a happy day. Don’t say anything that’ll ruin it. Just zip it and smile for the cameras.’

Gwendolyn blinked, stunned. ‘What did I even say?’

She might’ve brushed off anything from Ashton with that frosty composure of hers, but coming from her own son, that cut deeper.

‘Just don’t say anything stupid,’ Declan said offhandedly.

Gwendolyn’s face turned an alarming shade—red, then purplish—like she was this close to throttling him on the spot.