Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 178

Chapter 143: Wedding Night

(Author’s POV)

He sat down slowly and stared at the ring she’d been wearing.

It wasn’t something she’d bought for herself. He knew enough about jewelry to know that piece had a history. Someone had given it to her.

He picked up his phone and stared at it. Then he put it back down.

Aurora, meanwhile, stepped out of the building into the late morning sun and took a long breath. She looked at the ring on her finger. Then she looked at her phone, at the transfer confirmation still on the

screen.

Her money. Properly, legally, entirely hers.

She put her phone away and went shopping.

The furniture store she chose was the kind of place with wide aisles and quiet staff who didn’t hover. She

moved through it slowly, touching things – the grain of a side table, the weight of a lamp base, the texture

of a throw. She wasn’t buying much. Just a few pieces. Things that were hers, that she’d chosen, that she

was bringing into a space on her own terms.

She thought, briefly, of the day she’d moved into Jasper’s family home. She’d brought almost nothing.

There had been nothing to bring – no savings, no heirlooms, no family money. Victoria had made sure she remembered that at every opportunity. Every dinner, every gathering, some version of the same reminder: *you came here with nothing, and we’ve given you everything.* Jasper had always been conveniently unavailable when it happened. Always a meeting, always a call, always somewhere else.

She’d even handed over her research patents to his company for free. She’d thought, at the time, that it might help. That contributing something substantial might earn her a place at the table.

She stopped in front of a low bookshelf with clean lines and ran her hand along the edge.

The patents were hers again. All of them, intact. She’d made sure of that in the settlement.

She pulled out her phone and told the sales assistant she’d take the bookshelf, a pair of armchairs, and

the lamp in the corner.

Alfred had already organized the previous deliveries by the time she arrived at the house with her new purchases. She directed the movers to the right rooms, then spent an hour arranging things – fresh flowers in the main rooms, a few Diptyque candles on the shelves, the new armchairs angled toward the windows. Small things. But they changed the feel of the space from a showroom into something that breathed.

When she was done, she stood in the center of the living room and looked around.

She took a few photos and sent them to Phineas with a short message: *Does this work for you? I wasn’t

sure about the chairs.*

A chamer 14

Wedang Night

Clam

She went back downstairs to her own apartment and made coffee.

Her phone buzzed fifteen minutes later.

*It’s perfect. Don’t wear yourself out.*

She read it twice. Set the phone down. Picked it up again.

She wasn’t sure what to do with a man who said things like that.

She put the phone face–down and drank her coffee.

That evening, Phineas canceled his dinner.

He came home to a house that was different. He noticed it immediately – the flowers, the new

arrangement of the furniture, the faint warm scent of the candles Aurora had left burning low. The whole

place had a quality it hadn’t had before. Not decorated. Inhabited.

The woman herself was not there.

He walked through to the master bedroom, set his jacket over the chair, and rolled up his sleeves. He

stripped the existing bedding and replaced it with a set in ivory silk, working with the methodical efficiency

of a man who did not do things halfway. From the spare flowers in the hall, he pulled a few stems of dark

roses and scattered the petals across the duvet. The fireplace was already laid – he lit it, adjusted the grate, and stepped back.

He looked at the room.

Then he picked up his phone and called her.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Now that we’ve filed the marriage license,” he said, “were you planning to just live next door? Is that how

this works?”

A pause. “Are you saying you want me to move in tonight?”

“I’m saying now.”

Another pause, longer. “It’s nine o’clock.”

“Yes.”

She hung up.

He set the phone down and waited.

Eight minutes later, he heard the front door.

She appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom wearing what appeared to be the most aggressively modest pajamas she owned – high–necked, long–sleeved, a pale grey that managed to look both practical and deeply deliberate. She was carrying an eye mask and a charging cable. Her hair was still slightly

damp.

Chapter 140 Wedding Nigh

She opened her mouth – probably to say something about the guest room – and then her gaze landed on

the bed.

She went very still.

The ivory silk. The scattered rose petals. The firelight moving across all of it, slow and warm.

She stared at it for a long moment. Then she looked at him, where he was leaning back against the chair with his arms crossed, watching her with an expression that gave away almost nothing.

She pointed at the bed. “What is this?”

He let the silence sit for just a moment.

Then the corner of his mouth curved.

“My dear Mrs. Everett,” he said, “it’s our wedding night. Shouldn’t there be a little ceremony to it?”

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