All Chapters of Slept With An "Ex-convict Nobody" - A Hidden Trillionaire!: Chapter 231
- Chapter 240
275 chapters
Chapter 231: How tables turned
Nathan turned, walking to Emma, who began to stir. A low moan escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered. Confusion, then panic, washed over her features as she took in the harsh lights, the distant hum, the two men before her.Her gaze darted between them—one kneeling, weak and pale in a fine, dark jacket stained with what looked like fresh blood at the sleeve. The other stood tall, wearing a familiar, worn combat shirt, his face smeared with blood, his knuckles raw.Her mind, fogged with sedative and terror, scrambled for a anchor. And it found one: the jacket. The expensive, tailored jacket the weak one was wearing. She’d seen it before. She’d hated it before. Nathan had worn it when he’d taunted her in that sterile room, his calm voice laced with threats.And now, there he was kneeling like a wounded lion who had been steipped of all his powers. Just as she had believed that help would definitely come, it had happened that way, and if had come from the one person she would have rea
Chapter 232: The hero's welcome
The sleek black car, a far cry from the SUV used for the abduction, crunched to a halt on the familiar gravel of the Robbins' mansion drive. Nathan, still wearing Ethan's bloodied shirt and the mask of tender concern, helped Emma from the vehicle. She leaned into him, her body trembling with residual shock and exhaustion, but her hand was tightly clasped in his.After so many days, she was finally back home. She had thought she'd never get to see this mansion again. She had thought she'd probably meet her end while in Nathan's custody. But then, here they were back to the mansion that reminded her of who truly is; Emma Robbins.Inside the mansion, a flurry of hushed activity had preceded their arrival. A maid, having glimpsed the car from an upper window, had sprinted to the study where Elizabeth was locked in another futile, tearful call with the police chief."Ma'am! Ma'am, she's back! Miss Emma is back!"Elizabeth had frozen, the phone slipping from her hand to clatter on the desk.
Chapter 233: A victory cut short
Elizabeth remained clung to Emma as if she might vanish again. Leif stood awkwardly by the fireplace, a tentative smile on his face, relieved the ordeal was over but sensing the precarious new tension in the air. Margaret observed it all with her investigative eyes, noting every glance, every hesitation.This was supposed to be a moment of joy for all of them that Emma had returned and was without harm. And so one by one, after Elizabeth had managed to get herself detached from Emma, began to embrace Emma making her see just how they were really happy to have her back.And Nathan, wearing Ethan’s face like a masterfully tailored suit, played his part with chilling perfection. The modest hero, the loyal protector. It was a performance that made Margaret’s skin prickle even as her rational mind accepted the evidence before her: Emma was home, and Ethan had delivered her.Rose had performed her own role flawlessly. She had gasped appropriately, shed a convincing tear, and embraced Emma w
Chapter 234: The cracked mask
The news of Emma Robbins' return broke like a sonic boom across the city. By morning, it was the singular topic on every news outlet, a frantic churn of speculation with depressingly little fact. The lack of official details—no police statement, no family press conference—created a vacuum that gossip and sensationalism rushed to fill.By mid-afternoon, a small but determined pack of journalists and camera crews had gathered at the wrought-iron gates of the Robbins estate, their voices a buzzing, insistent hum. Microphones were thrust toward the intercom. Demands were shouted."What can you tell us about Emma's condition?""Was a ransom paid?""Who was responsible?""Mrs. Robbins! Can you give us a statement?"Inside, the family watched the growing spectacle on security monitors with a mix of exhaustion and dread. The private nightmare was now public property."It has to be addressed," Margaret said, her tone clinical. "Controlled disclosure is better than rampant speculation."Nathan
Chapter 235: The imposter
Jennifer stood on the gravel drive for a moment longer, the seed of doubt now a cold, sprouting vine in her chest. The press continued to clamor, but their noise faded into a dull roar as she focused on the closed mansion door. That blank look in his eyes, the seamless, theatrical recovery… no one she knew that well could forget her face entirely, even under extreme stress. A skilled actor could.Steeling herself, she approached the main entrance. The butler, recognizing her, opened the door with a solemn nod, ushering her into the cool, hushed grandeur of the foyer.The air inside was thick with a strange, tense stillness, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. In the main living room, she saw Elizabeth Robbins standing by the fireplace, her posture rigid with a relief that looked almost painful. Beside her was an elegant, unfamiliar woman with sharp, assessing eyes—Margaret, though Jennifer didn’t know that yet.“Jennifer,” Elizabeth said, her voice soft and drained. She offered a
Chapter 236: Something's off
Jennifer stayed a while longer, making quiet, comforting small talk until she saw Emma’s eyelids grow heavy. She tucked the blanket around her, promised to check in tomorrow, and slipped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.The relief of seeing Emma alive warred with a churning sense of dread in her stomach. The mansion’s usual comforting silence now felt oppressive, every shadow holding a secret. Distracted by her thoughts, she took a wrong turn at the end of the corridor, veering away from the grand staircase and into the less familiar west wing.She realized her mistake when the carpet pattern changed and the portraits on the walls became sterner, older Robbins ancestors. She was about to turn back when a sharp, tense voice sliced through the quiet from a half-open door down the hall.“…don’t care what you think, Frank. The timing is too convenient.”Jennifer froze. It was Rose Robbins’ voice, stripped of its usual theatrical warmth, sharp with frustration and somet
Chapter 237: A word of gratitude
The drive home was a blur of manicured suburbs and churning thoughts. Jennifer’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her mind replaying the day’s horrors and oddities on a loop: Emma’s fragile pallor, the wrongness in "Ethan's" eyes, Rose's hissed conversation about "Frank" and "plans." By the time she pulled into the driveway of her mother’s cozy, sensible bungalow—the home she’d moved back into to save money—the anxiety had condensed into a hard, urgent knot in her chest.She found her mother, Helen, in the kitchen, the familiar, comforting scent of rosemary chicken in the oven doing little to soothe her.“Mom,” Jennifer said, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.Helen turned, her warm, careworn face shifting from welcome to immediate concern. “Jenny? What’s wrong? How is Emma?”That was all it took. The dam broke. Jennifer slumped into a kitchen chair, the words tumbling out in a rushed, hushed torrent. She described seeing Emma—the relief, the worry. Then she
Chapter 238: The Glided Cage
Later that night, in a part of the city untouched by Robbins family drama, Chloe was a whirlwind of desperate motion in the center of the dance floor in one of the popular night clubs in the city—'the glided cage' as it was called.She wasn’t dancing for joy; she was trying to outrun the ghosts in her head—the mother who’d returned a stranger, the suffocating mansion, the weight of a name that felt like a cage. Jazz and rock fought for dominance in the smoky air, a chaotic soundtrack to her internal storm. She moved like a wounded animal, all frantic energy and no grace, the sharp, sweet smell of expensive gin clinging to her like a second skin.She was barely conscious of the man who sidled up to her, his smile all practiced charm. He matched her movements, said something lost to the music. In her blurred, self-destructive state, he was just another blur, a warm body offering an escape from the thoughts. Numbly, she let him lead her off the floor, up a dimly lit staircase that prom
Chapter 239: When monsters are free to roam
Chloe stood frozen for a second in the doorway, the dam of her own pride and anger finally shattered by the night's violence. She had thought she was strong enough to handle issues as an adult. But how wrong she was. If Ethan hadn't shown up, she wouldn't have known what her fate would be by now.A sob, harsh and involuntary, ripped from her throat. She didn't step forward; instead she fell forward, collapsing into her mother’s space.Margaret’s book thudded softly to the carpet. Her arms, which hadn't held her daughter in two decades, came up instinctively, catching her, wrapping around the trembling form.And then, it all poured out. The tears were not gentle; they were a storm, hot and desperate against Margaret’s silk robe. The words were muffled, broken by gasps. "I'm sorry, Mother," Chloe sobbed, her fingers clutching at the fabric. "I was so angry with you. For leaving me behind. For twenty years. I hated you for it."She shook her head violently, burrowing closer as if she c
Chapter 240: Margaret's guilt
Margaret turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into soft darkness save for the city glow through the windows. The guilt remained, a permanent scar. But now, it had a purpose. It would fuel the fight to secure the future she had once so carelessly abandoned.Entering her own quiet guest room, the events of the night pressed down on her like a physical weight. She was about to slide into bed when her phone, charging on the nightstand, vibrated with a sharp, insistent ring.The screen glowed with the words UNKNOWN NUMBER. At this hour. Her senses, already on high alert, snapped to full attention. Skepticism warred with a cold prickle of intuition. She picked it up.“Hello?”A moment of silence, then a voice, smooth as aged whiskey and laced with a familiarity that sent a jolt of ice down her spine.“Hello, Margaret.”The voice was slightly altered, disguised by a poor digital filter or a bad connection, but the cadence, the particular way it wrapped around her name—it was unmis