The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137 Home, Rewritten

Camila and Mitre arrived the day after the party.

Bexlin City was still waking. Eve didn’t tell Ryan when she left the house. The streets washed in pale morning light, the air crisp with that clean western sharpness that always made the breath feel new. Cars

hummed past in a steady stream.

Office workers in tailored coats moved with purpose, coffee cups steaming in their hands. The city never truly slept, but mornings like this always carried a softer rhythm, as though even Bexlin’s steel-and-glass spine needed a moment to stretch.

Eve pulled her coat tighter and checked her phone again, not because she didn’t trust them to arrive, but because she couldn’t help it. Her excitement sat in her chest like a bright ache.

Camila and Mitre were coming.

Not just to visit.

Not just to support their restaurant staff in the cooking competition.

They were coming into her world. The part of her life that still felt fragile at the edges, like too much happiness might attract the wrong kind of attention.

A cab slowed near her, and she climbed into the back seat, giving the driver the bus station address. As the car moved, Eve watched the city slide past: wide avenues lined with trees, neat storefronts opening their shutters, early pedestrians crossing at clean, punctual intervals. Bexlin had a polished sort of charm, wealthy enough to be sleek, busy enough to be alive, proud enough to pretend it wasn’t built on old deals and quiet cruelties.

She pressed a hand to her belly.

The bump was unmistakable now. It wasn’t just a secret warmth under her skin. It was presence.

Her child.

Her future.

Our future, she corrected instinctively, because Ryan wasn’t a distant concept anymore. He was real. He was choosing her, loudly, publicly, repeatedly, even when it cost him pieces of a family that had once defined him.

The cab pulled into the bus station lot, the building already lively with arrivals. People moved in clusters, dragging suitcases, hugging loved ones, shaking off long trips with stiff stretches. The air smelled of diesel fumes, toasted pastries from a small kiosk, and the faint metallic tang of travel.

Eve stepped out, scanning the crowd.

And then she saw them.

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Chapter 137 Home, Rewritten

Claim

Camila was the first to spot her. She lifted both hands in an almost theatrical wave, her face lighting up

with the kind of joy that didn’t ask for permission.

“Eve!” she called, voice cutting through the station noise.

Eve’s heart swelled.

Camila rushed forward and pulled her into a tight embrace, careful of her belly but not careful with her

affection. Eve breathed in the familiar scent, clean laundry, warm perfume, the hint of spices that always clung to Camila no matter how far she travelled. It was the smell of the restaurant kitchen, the smell of

late nights and shared meals, the smell of home.

Mitre followed, carrying a large travel bag in one hand and two boxes in the other, his brows drawn in

concentration as he navigated through the crowd.

“There’s my girl,” Camila said, pulling back just enough to cup Eve’s face. Her eyes flicked immediately to Eve’s bump, and her expression softened into awe. “Look at you.”

Eve laughed, cheeks warming. “You’re here.”

“We’re here,” Camila corrected proudly, then turned and gestured to the bags. “And we brought things.”

“Things?” Eve echoed.

Camila’s grin widened. “A lot of things.”

Mitre reached them and set the boxes down carefully, his face splitting into a pleased smile. He hugged Eve next, firm but gentle, as if he wanted to reassure her that she wasn’t alone in this new chapter.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Eve said, but her voice shook with emotion.

Camila waved her off like the idea was insulting. “Please. You’re pregnant, and I can’t just arrive

empty-handed like a stranger.”

Mitre added, “She packed like she was moving in.”

Camila shot him a look. “Don’t be dramatic. I packed like I love my daughter.”

Eve’s throat tightened at the word daughter.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to smile, because if she let the emotion rise too quickly, she’d cry

right there in the bus station with strangers walking past and staring.

“Come,” she said quickly, grabbing a bag handle. “Let’s go home.”

Camila’s brows lifted at the word home.

Eve saw it.

That quiet little pause.

That subtle surprise.

Chapter 137 Home Rewatten

Because Camila still remembered the Eve who had lived in the small apartment behind the Rodrigos’ restaurant. The Eve who had cooked, scrubbed, laughed, cried, endured. The Eve who had arrived with nothing but bruises and exhaustion and a quiet determination not to fall apart in front of them.

Clare

Camila followed her to the cab, Mitre loading the bags into the boot with the efficiency of a man who had

spent his whole life making heavy burdens look manageable.

As the taxi drove through Bexlin City, Camila pressed her face to the window like a tourist, eyes widening as the neighbourhoods shifted, from busy mid-town streets to quieter, wealthier zones where houses sat behind manicured hedges and the pavements looked almost too clean.

Eve watched her, half amused and half uneasy.

When the taxi finally pulled into the driveway, Camila went silent.

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