The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 39

The Flon 10 MeLE IN

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The Plan to Move In

Daniel walked quickly toward the playroom, his footsteps still heavy with frustration that hadn’t fully subsided.

When he opened the door, he found Junior sitting at a small table with crayons scattered before him. A young caregiver sat beside him, smiling while occasionally giving gentle instructions.

Junior was drawing–or more precisely, coloring with mechanical, systematic movements. There was none of the excitement usually seen when a child his age drew. None of the wild imagination that made them choose bright and unusual colors.

Just… coloring. Within the lines. Neat. Perfect.

Daniel stopped in the doorway, observing.

Relief washed over him- at least Junior didn’t know about Alina being hurt. There were no signs of worry or sadness on that small face.

But there was something else.

The same emptiness he’d seen in Alina’s eyes earlier.

Junior didn’t look happy. Didn’t look excited. Just… doing what he was supposed to do.

Daniel’s chest tightened.

But he didn’t go in. Didn’t want to disturb. Didn’t want to risk making Junior ask about Alina and having to lie.

He closed the door quietly–silently–and turned toward the living

ng room with slower steps this time.

Heavy.

In the living room, Margaret and Clarissa still sat on the same sofa, the tablet already set aside.

“Mrs. Helen,” Daniel called as he stepped in, his voice firm.

The older maid appeared quickly from the pantry direction. “Yes, sir?”

Daniel extended the prescription slip Dr. Anderson had given him. “Please buy these medications. Now. At the nearest pharmacy.”

Mrs. Helen took the paper, glanced at it briefly, then nodded. “Right away, sir.”

She hurried out–efficient, not asking questions.

Margaret and Clarissa exchanged glances–confused, concerned.

“Daniel,” Margaret said, voice measured but curious, “who’s sick? Why do you suddenly need medicine?”

Daniel turned to face them, posture rigid. “Alina.”

Margaret’s eyebrows rose genuine surprise. “Alina? Why? What happened to her?”

“Injured,” Daniel answered briefly. “Cut by glass shards. Needed five stitches.”

“1

eive stitches?” Margaret stood, her expression a mix of shock and… something else. Irritation? “How could she be so careless? Glass shards from what?”

Daniel didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

Clarissa sat there–watching with sharp, calculating eyes.

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There was something in the way Daniel spoke about Alina. Barely concealed concern. Tension in his shoulders. Worry he was trying to hide but failing.

Daniel had never been like this when Clarissa was sick before. Even when she had high fever or flu, Daniel would be caring but… professional. Dutiful but distant.

But for Alina-

There was something different.

Something more… personal.

And that realization made Clarissa’s hands clench in her lap–burning, unwelcome jealousy.

“Alina has always been careless,” Margaret said in a dismissive tone, clearly trying to downplay the situation. ” Fortunately it’s not too serious-”

“Five stitches is serious, Mother,” Daniel cut in, voice sharp. “And I don’t want Junior to know about this.”

He turned to Clarissa–direct, commanding gaze.

“Clarissa, please keep Junior company. Make sure he doesn’t leave the playroom. I don’t want him to see Alina in this condition. He’ll worry and be sad.”

A clear command. Final.

Clarissa smiled–forced, polite. “Of course. I’ll make sure Junior is okay.”

Daniel nodded–brief acknowledgment–then turned, walking back toward the stairs.

Without another word. Without explanation.

Just… left.

Back upstairs. Back to Alina.

Silence filled the living room after Daniel left.

Margaret sat back down with slow movements, staring at the stairs with a thoughtful expression.

Clarissa still sat in her spot–rigid, hands still clenched.

“He’s very attentive to Alina,” Clarissa said quietly, voice controlled but with an edge. “Too attentive.”

Margaret glanced at Clarissa–assessing. “That’s just your feeling.”

“No.” Clarissa turned, looking at Margaret with intense eyes. “Daniel was never that worried about me. Even when we were still married.”

Margaret fell silent considering.

There was truth in Clarissa’s words. Daniel was indeed showing unusual concern for Alina. Concern that was somehow more than just duty as a husband.

And that was problematic.

“You need to focus on Junior,” Margaret finally said, voice firm. “Bonding between you and Junior is the priority

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now. Daniel will come back eventually. Alina is just a temporary distraction.”

Clarissa stood–slow, graceful–but there was tension in her posture.

“Mother,” she said quietly, “I have an idea.”

Margaret looked at her–curious.

“What if,” Clarissa continued, stepping closer, “I moved in here? To this mansion? For a while?”

Margaret’s eyebrows rose. “Move in? Why?”

“For Junior,” Clarissa answered with a smile that was gentle but calculated. “I can only be with him during the day now. But if I live here, I can be there for him at night too. When he sleeps. When he wakes up. Every moment.”

She paused–letting the words sink in.

“Real bonding requires consistency. Constant presence. Not just a few hours a day.‘

There was logic in that argument. Sound logic that was hard to argue against.

But Margaret knew there was another agenda.

11

“Daniel won’t agree,” Margaret said carefully. “This will be too complicated. With Alina still here—”

“Precisely because Alina is still here,”

Daniel–that I’m serious. That I’m parissa cut in gently but firmly, “I need to be here. To show Junior–and

again.”

just a temporary visitor. That I’m committed to being part of their lives

She stepped closer to Margaret, voice dropping to conspiratorial.

“And with me living here, Alina will realize her position. She’ll see that she’s not the lady of this house anymore. She’ll be uncomfortable. And eventually–she’ll choose to leave on her own.

Margaret fell silent–considering with careful thought.

There was merit to that plan. Strategic merit.

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