The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 33

33 The Secret in the Walls

Ryan’s POV

The storm broke inside Ashbrook Towers long before thunder ever touched the sky.

Jonathan Ashbrook’s footsteps thundered down the polished marble corridor that led to his son’s private wing. His cane tapped with each stride, not from need but from habit, from the weight of fury that burned through his veins. He didn’t knock. He never did when he was angry. He pushed the heavy doors open with a force that rattled the frames.

Ryan sat at his desk in his home office, his tie loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up, staring at documents he wasn’t reading. He looked up slowly, already bracing himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jonathan barked, slamming a folder onto the desk. Bank statements, receipts, clippings from last night’s headlines, all scattered across the mahogany like shrapnel.

Ryan didn’t flinch. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You damn well do.” Jonathan’s face was flushed, his silver hair slicked back but damp from sweat. “You think I’m blind? That little stunt of yours with the press release has made me look like a fool. Do you know what the board is saying? That I witch-hunted the girl. That I persecuted an innocent. That I’ve been using company resources to destroy my daughter-in-law. Me, Jonathan Ashbrook, made into a villain by my own son’s hand.”

Ryan’s lips tightened. “If people see you as a villain, Father, it’s not because of me.”

Jonathan’s fist slammed the desk, rattling the water glass at its edge. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare stand there in judgment of me when you’ve been miserable for three years with that girl.

Miserable! I watched you, Ryan. Every dinner, every board meeting, every damn morning, you carried her like a burden, and now you want her back? Why? Why all of a sudden? To throw people off Steven’s accusations?”

Ryan’s chair scraped back as he stood. His face was pale but his eyes burned. “Mind your business.”

Jonathan scoffed, his voice dripping contempt. “Business is all that matters, boy. And if Eve has decided to leave, isn’t it for the best? You can rebuild. Start over with someone who belongs at your side, not a driver’s daughter forced into your bed by her father’s greed. You should thank God she’s gone.”

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Ryan’s voice cracked like a whip. “Do you know how my life has been these months without her?”

Jonathan blinked at the intensity, but Ryan pressed on, his words tumbling like a flood held back too long.

“My home has been empty,” Ryan said, his voice hoarse. “I come home every day and she isn’t at the table, fussing over dinner or trying to get my attention. She isn’t curled up on the couch with her laptop, typing into the night, pretending not to wait for me. She isn’t in my home. My fridge is empty. My rooms are empty. And my heart, God, my heart feels hollow.”

Jonathan’s brows furrowed. “Ryan…”

“The fact that she was always there made me take her for granted,” Ryan whispered, his voice breaking. “I used to think she’d always be there. That she’d never leave. That was why I was too slow to forgive, too proud to move past the things between us. But she broke down my walls without me even knowing. Bit by bit, she won me. And now that she’s gone, I can’t live without her.”

Jonathan’s lips curled, disdain cutting through his son’s vulnerability. “You’re talking nonsense. You only feel this way because you and Eve lived in isolation. Of course you’ll miss her when she leaves, you had no one else. It isn’t love. It’s habit. Dependence. Don’t

mistake the two.”

Ryan’s chest heaved, his hands balling into fists. He couldn’t listen anymore. He turned sharply and strode out of the study into the dim corridor that led to what had once been the

guest room.

Her room.

The door creaked as he opened it. The room smelled faintly of lavender, though months had passed since she had been here. The bed was perfectly made, untouched. This was where he had kept her, night after night, always at arm’s length. He had taken her body but never offered her warmth. Never given her the comfort of being held through the night. He had made her into a tool, not a partner.

He hated himself for it.

He sank onto the bed, pressing his face into the pillow that no longer carried her scent. His chest tightened, a low groan escaping his throat.

All he wanted now was a chance. An opportunity to make it right. To prove himself to her. To start again. Maybe even start the family he had warned her about,

He reached for the drawer by the bed and pulled out the letter. Her letter. The one she left

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behind the night she walked away.

He carried it back to his father, thrusting it at him with shaking hands.

“Read it,” Ryan said, his voice raw.

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Jonathan frowned but unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the words, his brow creasing. Eve’s handwriting was steady but heavy with finality. She had written of emptiness, of silence, of leaving because she thought it was what Ryan wanted.

Ryan’s throat burned. “Does that sound like someone who made away with a million dollars? She left because she thought she was giving me peace. Because she thought I wanted her gone. Not because she wanted to steal from me. Not because she wanted to hurt me. She left because she thought she wasn’t enough.”

His voice cracked then, the pain too sharp to hold back. “I just want her. And I was too damn slow, too damn proud, to tell her exactly what I needed. What I wanted. What she was to me. And now she’s gone.”

For the first time in years, Jonathan Ashbrook was speechless. He stared at his son, at the tears brimming in his eyes.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “Nonetheless, your marriage was doomed from the start. It had a faulty foundation. Blackmail is not a beginning. It was bound to crumble.”

Ryan’s eyes darkened. He stepped closer, his voice sharp. “Then why did you let it happen? Why did you force me into it? Why did you let Steven Reynolds hold a noose over our necks?”

Jonathan stiffened. “That’s enough,”

“No,” Ryan snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare. Steven will always have leverage over you. Over this family. As long as you’re too much of a coward to expose the truth. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been paying him these past three months, even after I stopped the transfers. I checked the accounts. I saw the withdrawals. You’re still bleeding for him, aren’t you?”

Jonathan’s face paled,

Ryan’s eyes blazed. “Does Mother know? Does she know you’re still paying him? What did you do, Father? What sin is so heavy that Steven Reynolds can look us in the eyes and you can do nothing? Did you keep a mistress? Father a bastard child? Did you kill someone? What is it? Tell me!”

Jonathan’s lips pressed thin, but his silence was answer enough.

Ryan’s voice rose, sharp with fury. “What did you do that is so bad that we live like this,

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trapped, shamed, bound by another man’s silence? Maybe Mother and I should leave you to deal with your own filth. Maybe you should face the ruin alone.”

For the first time, Jonathan flinched, not as a patriarch, but as a man. He looked at his son with something almost like hurt in his eyes.

“You think I am weak, is that it?” Jonathan asked, his voice rough

Ryan shot back, venom dripping. “Why else would Steven have you by the balls?”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Jonathan exhaled, his shoulders sinking as though the weight of years pressed down all at once.

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