Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28 A Starving Wife’s Broken Pride

“Eat the stew, Minerva. Pride provides poor nourishment for a woman who looks like she’s about to faint in my lap,”

Eduardo didn’t look up from his own bowl as he spoke. He didn’t even wait for me to agree. He just gestured to the steaming ceramic bowl the waitress had dropped onto the sticky vinyl table. The diner smelled of fried onions and coffee, a scent that normally would have made my stomach turn, but the heat radiating from the broth was a siren song I couldn’t ignore.

“I didn’t ask for a handout,” I said, my voice sounding thin even to my own ears. “I’m not giving you one. I’m buying twenty minutes

of your time so I don’t have to watch you shiver,”

Eduardo countered, his gravel-rough voice cutting through the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights. He laced his fingers together and leaned back, his intense, piercing gaze pinning me to the red vinyl seat. I picked up the metal spoon. My hands shook, not just from the cold, but from the raw, hollow hunger that had been tearing at my insides since I stepped off the train. The first mouthful of hot broth hit my stomach like a lightning strike, sending a wave of warmth through my freezing limbs. I forced myself to eat at a measured pace, ignoring the way he watched me. Every bite felt like a confession.

Eduardo pushed his half-finished bowl aside and leaned forward, the shadows of the diner casting deep lines across his weathered

face.

“You are a long way from home, Minerva,” he noted.

I froze, the spoon halfway to my mouth. “I live a few blocks from here.”

“You sleep a few blocks from here,” he corrected. “You do not live here. Women native to Port Sterling wear boots in October. They wear heavy wool. You dress for the capital.”

I looked up, meeting his eyes. “You possess a sharp eye.”

“Observation kept me alive in business for forty years.” He didn’t blink. “I look at you, and I see contradictions. You carry the posture of a woman educated in elite institutions. You possess the vocabulary of a boardroom executive. Yet, you sit in a grease- stained diner shivering in a cheap sweater. You carry a scar on your face that looks like a strike from a heavy ring. And you protect your stomach every time a door slams.”

My hand dropped from my abdomen instantly. I hadn’t even realized I was guarding it. The terror of what he was seeing-the ruined executive, the pregnant runaway-began to claw at my throat. If he pressed me, if he found out my last name, he’d find the Johnston Group press release. He’d see the word whore’ branded across my entire digital footprint.

“Thank you for the meal, Eduardo. I need to leave.” I grabbed my canvas bag and started to slide out of the booth.

“Sit down.”

The command was absolute. It lacked the calculated cruelty Tristan used to favor, but it carried the weight of a man who led empires. I froze, hovering above the seat.

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Chapter 28 A Starving Wife’s Broken Pride

“I am not your enemy,” Eduardo said, his voice softening a fraction. “I spent my morning fighting wolves. I recognize a fellow prey

when I see one. But you do not look like prey anymore. You look like a woman calculating her first strike.’

I sank back into the seat, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

“I have zero interest in your secrets, Minerva,” he continued, tapping an index finger against the table. “But I have an interest in

your mind. You deduced the camera angle outside the hotel. You leveraged a broken phone to create a threat. You displayed strategic composure under pressure. Those traits hold value.”

“Value for what?”

“I own a logistics distribution firm in this city. A subsidiary of a larger network. The firm is bleeding money. The management team

Jacks vision. The floor workers steal inventory. The ledgers are a mess.”

He reached into his tweed coat and pulled out a thick, expensive business card, pushing it across the sticky table toward me.

“I need someone to find the rot. I need someone to dig through the operational data and tell me where the money goes. The pay is

poor. The hours are terrible. The office is a concrete box.”

I stared at the embossed black letters: Valdez Distribution Strategies. No background checks. No internet searches. Just a lifeline

thrown by a stranger.

“Why me?” I asked, raising my eyes to his. “You do not know me. I could be a thief.”

Eduardo let out a dry, rasping laugh.

“A thief runs when men in suits show their fists. You walked toward the fists. You have nothing left to lose. People with nothing left to lose make the most dangerous weapons. He took a slow sip of his coffee. “Come to the address on the card tomorrow at eight. Or do not. The choice is yours. But if you walk out that door and return to the cold, the wolves will eventually find you.”

The ceramic cup clinked against the saucer as he set it down.

“And Minerva?”

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