The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 112

112 A Public Vow 2

The drive to the gala unfolded like the prelude to a confession.

City lights streaked past the tinted windows, each one reflected in her dress as liquid gold. Eve sat quietly beside him, hands folded in her lap, trying not to fidget. The silk of her gown whispered softly with every shift of her legs. Ryan’s right hand held the steering wheel; his left rested lazily on her bare thigh through

the slit in her dress.

His thumb moved in slow, absent circles.

She caught the motion and bit back a smile. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Doing what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

She tilted her head towards him. “Trying to get me worked up before we arrive.”

He smirked without looking at her. “Would that be such a tragedy?”

She sighed, trying not to grin. “You’re impossible.”

“I seem to remember you saying that the night we met.”

“That night I also said I’d never speak to you again.”

“And yet,” he murmured, squeezing gently, “here you are.”

Her cheeks warmed despite herself. “You haven’t changed.”

“I have,” he said. “You just bring out the parts I never wanted anyone else to see.”

Silence followed, a comfortable one filled with the quiet thrum of the engine and the faint melody from

the radio.

After a while, she whispered, “You really don’t mind that I’ll walk into that room like this?”

He turned his head, his eyes soft. “Like what?”

“Like I belong to you.”

His hand tightened.

“You do,” he said simply. “And I belong to you.”

Something unspoken passed between them, an acknowledgment of the wars they’d survived to earn those words.

Then, softly, he laughed. “You know, the last time we went to an event like this, I almost caused a scene.”

Eve remembered. “The dinner party.”

He nodded. “I couldn’t stand watching men look at you. I wanted to tear the room apart.”

15

112 A Public Yow 2

“And you dragged me out,” she murmured.

He chuckled under his breath. “I was a fool. Angry. Jealous.”

+25 Points

“And then,” she said, a blush creeping into her voice, “you… we… in the car.” She couldn’t say it all. Ryan found her shyness cute.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “I still think about that night.”

Her lips parted, words failing. The air thickened between them. The past lingered, sweet, wild, unrepentant,

and then passed like smoke.

She looked away, smiling faintly. “Let’s not make the same scene tonight.”

“No promises,” he said, and she laughed softly.

They arrived beneath a storm of flashing lights.

The valet opened Ryan’s door first; the cameras erupted like fireworks. A low wave of murmurs rippled across the crowd as he stepped out, straightening to his full height, immaculate in a dark suit that fit him like’armour. When he turned to help Eve from the car, the murmurs swelled into open fascination.

Every lens found her.

The emerald gown caught the lights and shimmered as she rose, her hand in Ryan’s. The slit revealed a glimpse of silk-smooth skin; the soft curve of her belly beneath the fabric made reporters freeze mid-breath. She was no longer a ghost of scandal, she was living proof that disgrace could transform into grace itself.

Ryan’s hand settled protectively at the small of her back as they walked through the entrance.

Questions began to fly.

“Mr Ashbrook! Is it true your family, ?”

“Eve, how does it feel returning to public life after, ?”

“Was it difficult forgiving, ?”

And then a crueler voice: “What about Luan? Is there still something, ?”

Ryan’s jaw locked. His body shifted almost imperceptibly, a predator’s reaction just before strike.

Eve reached for his arm, her fingers light but firm.

“No,” she said softly. “Not tonight,”

He glanced at her, and obeyed.

They walked on, side by side, through the gleaming doors into the ballroom’s golden glow.

Inside, chandeliers blazed with warmth. Music floated from a live orchestra, the strings painting the air with elegance. Waiters moved like whispers among the guests, carrying trays of champagne and laughter.

215

112 A Public Vow 2

Heads turned as the couple entered, curiosity first, then admiration.

The Ashbrooks had always commanded attention, but this was different.

This was reverence.

+25 Points

Ryan guided Eve through the room. Everywhere, people parted quietly to let them pass, drawn to the gravity between them, the unspoken understanding that here walked two people who had survived ruin

and still chosen each other.

They reached their table.

Eve’s gaze drifted across the hall, and froze.

Luan.

She sat near the centre, beside her brother. Luan’s complexion was pale, fragile as paper, her eyes swollen from recent tears. Her brother’s were the opposite, hard, sharp, filled with venom. His stare followed Eve,

burning through civility.

Ryah noticed but gave no sign.

He pulled out Eve’s chair instead.

Let them stare.

Tonight wasn’t for the ghosts of what once was. Tonight was for the future.

Moments later, the host approached the microphone, his voice cutting smoothly through the chatter.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “we are honoured to have Mr Ryan Ashbrook with us this evening. Please join me in welcoming him to the stage for a special address.”

A ripple of surprise ran through the crowd.

Eve blinked, looking up at him. “Ryan… what is this?”

He smiled, a quiet, private thing, and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Wait for me.”

He stood, buttoning his jacket, and made his way toward the stage. Each step drew eyes, each whisper carried his name like a returning storm. When he reached the podium, he paused, scanning the room, not

for power, not for applause.

For her.

His gaze found her instantly.

And everything else disappeared.

He began. “Thank you all for being here tonight. This evening isn’t only about prestige, it’s about purpose. Hope. Research. Change.”

The audience listened, hushed.

55

<112 A Public Vow 2

+25 Points

“For the clubfoot research initiative,” he continued, “I will be making a personal contribution of five million

dollars.”

Gasps rippled through the hall.

But he wasn’t finished.

“And,” he said, voice firm, “I will be naming it after the woman who reminds me every day what redemption truly means.”

He turned fully toward Eve.

“My wife,” he said clearly. “Eve Ashbrook.”

The reaction was immediate.

Applause thundered across the ballroom like a sudden storm. Flashbulbs burst. The orchestra faltered and

then swelled again. Somewhere in the back, someone stood to clap; others followed.

Eve’s heart stopped.

Her hand rose to her mouth as tears gathered without permission. She wasn’t used to public grace, only

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify