The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 34

34 The Fault Lines

Ryan stood frozen in his father’s study, the words echoing in his skull like church bells tolling

doom.

It isn’t me. It’s your mother.

The marble floor beneath him might as well have cracked open. For years, he had seen his mother as the wronged woman, the proud matriarch who never let a slight go unanswered, who carried her rage against the Reynolds like a banner of righteousness. She had scorned Eve, spat venom at her name, looked at her like filth beneath her shoes. Ryan had thought it was cruelty bred of pride.

But now…

Now he saw the truth creeping from the shadows. Leah Ashbrook’s hatred hadn’t been righteousness. It had been fear. Desperation. A woman’s fury masking guilt.

Ryan’s mouth went dry. His father’s eyes, tired and defeated, wouldn’t meet his.

“What did she do?” Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper. His heart thudded against his ribs. “Tell me, Father. What did Mother do?”

Jonathan exhaled, his gaze heavy with resignation. “You’ll have to ask her that yourself. I’m not in any position to speak of it. It is her burden, her sin, her secret. She should be the one to tell you, not me.”

Ryan’s hands curled into fists. “And while she keeps her silence, Steven Reynolds holds us by the throat. While she refuses to face it, I have to pay for her sins. I have to live with the shadow of her choices. Do you expect me to keep enriching that man, to let him spit on the Ashbrook name because Mother won’t confess what she’s done?” His voice shook with rage, but beneath it, sorrow clung like a parasite.

Jonathan moved toward him, his voice gentler now, almost pleading. “That’s why you should take Eve’s leaving as a blessing. Let her go, Ryan. Stop this foolish hunt, this obsession. If she returns, Steven will always have leverage. If she stays gone, you can cut her from the narrative, free yourself from her ties, and rebuild without her.”

Ryan turned on him, his face pale with anguish. “And what do I do with my heart, Father? Should I rip it from my chest? Should I become unfeeling? Deny myself the only thing I want most in this world? Why do I have to be the one to let go? Why do I have to pay?”

Jonathan’s jaw clenched, his voice steeled. “Because that is life. You and Eve are like oil and water. You’ll never mix. Your stars are crossed. You should let her go, let her move on, and

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step into the role waiting for you. Head of this family. Head of the company. That is your duty.”

Claim

Ryan shook his head, tears glistening but refusing to fall. “Duty without her is emptiness. I already live in silence, Father. Do you want me to become a machine? A name on a board? A husband to a woman I don’t love, while my soul rots?”

Jonathan sighed, weary. “People like us don’t marry for love or feelings. We marry for greatness. We build dynasties, Ryan. Allowing you to spend time with the daughters of our allies was meant to ease that burden, to make it less sudden for you than it was for me. Luan was the one you chose. It’s time to finalize your divorce from Eve and settle with Luan. Move forward.”

Ryan’s face twisted with disbelief. “Chosen? I never chose Luan. I tolerated her, nothing more. Don’t rewrite history for me.”

“She still wants you,” Jonathan pressed. “Her family is willing to overlook this… embarrassment. Do you realize how rare that is? We can’t let that go to waste. You can right your wrongs with her. Marry her, love her, and move on with your life. Steven will eventually see his daughter again, if she wants to be found. But you cannot make her absence our problem any longer. Please, son.”

Ryan stared at him, chest heaving. His father’s words struck him like fists, not because of their force, but because of their emptiness.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and sharp.

“And what kind of man would that make me, Father? To discard one woman for another, to pretend my heart is a light switch I can flick on and off? What kind of hollow creature do you want me to become?”

Jonathan had no answer. His lips pressed thin, his eyes narrowing, but no words came.

Ryan turned away, his shoulders rigid. “Tell them they’re wasting their time.”

Jonathan hesitated, then finally said, “I’ll give you time to cool off.” He left without another word, the heavy door slamming shut behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ryan stood alone in the room, the air thick with his father’s arguments and his own despair. His fists unclenched, then clenched again. He dragged a hand over his face, willing himself

not to break.

But the truth lingered. His mother’s secret. Steven’s leverage. Eve’s absence. His father’s

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pressure. It was a noose tightening around his throat.

Claim

Hours later, as dusk settled over the city, Ryan sat on the balcony of his private study, staring down at the glittering skyline. Whiskey burned his throat as he swallowed, but it didn’t dull the ache in his chest.

His phone buzzed. Andrew’s name lit up the screen.

He answered without energy. “What is it?”

“Sir,” Andrew’s voice was crisp, respectful. “The cooking contest we’re sponsoring. I need direction. How wide should the coverage be? Should it remain in Bexlin City alone, or should we expand to other states?”

Ryan’s eyes flickered. He remembered. The sponsorship deal. The publicity push. A project he had hardly paid attention to.

“I don’t know, Andrew. What do you think?” His voice was flat, hollow.

Andrew hesitated, then said carefully, “The reward money is significant. Five million dollars is no small prize. I believe we should broaden it. Include other cities, other towns. Who knows? There may be a diamond restaurant hidden in the rough.”

Ryan’s lips twisted bitterly. A diamond in the rough. Like Eve.

He swallowed hard. “Fine. Do it. Expand the reach.”

“Yes, sir.” Andrew hung up.

Ryan dropped the phone onto the table and leaned back in his chair. His father’s words still echoed. His home was silent, but his mind was loud with torment.

Oil and water, Stars crossed. Duty before love.

He pressed his palms to his face. He wanted to scream, to tear the walls down with his bare hands. But all he could do was sit there, drowning in silence.

He wandered the halls late that night, the house dark except for the dim glow of chandeliers left on low. His footsteps echoed as he made his way back to the guest room, the place that had once been Eve’s prison.

He stood in the doorway, staring at the bed. He remembered her lying there, her eyes full of questions he never answered, her heart breaking with every night he refused to hold her.

He pressed his forehead to the doorframe, whispering into the dark.

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