The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72 RETURN TO WESTWOOD

The private jet touched down with a gentle sigh, the wheels rolling along the smooth tarmac like a whisper across silk. Eve looked out the window as the familiar outline of Westwood came into view, its skyline smaller than Bexlin’s, its pace calmer, its air somehow softer. Her chest tightened, but not with dread this time; this was the closest she had come to something like peace in years.

Ryan glanced at her, watching the way her eyes softened, the way her mouth trembled just slightly at the corner. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Something unspoken sat between them now, fragile and warm. He didn’t touch her, but his presence wrapped around her like a steady arm.

They didn’t go straight to the Rodrigos’ restaurant. It was better this way, Eve wanted to surprise them, not walk in with the weight of the Ashbrook surname at her side. So, they checked into a hotel first, one of the elegant boutique properties overlooking the lake.

The hotel lobby was bright and full of morning chatter. The moment the receptionist saw the name on Ryan’s ID, her smile stretched wider than polite enthusiasm should allow.

“Mr. Ashbrook, welcome. We’re honored to have you. Please, allow us to,”

“Just the room keys will be fine,” Ryan said, not unkindly, but with a tone that suggested he had heard this speech four thousand times before.

The receptionist’s eyes flicked to Eve, curious, evaluating, but Eve was used to that. She simply stood relaxed, hands resting lightly over her gentle curve. If anything, the gesture only made the staff whisper more.

They were taken to a private dining area. Ryan had mentioned he wanted food before going anywhere else.

Eve laughed, “You’re hungry?”

“I’m starving,” he admitted, loosening his tie just slightly. “Yesterday took more energy out of me than I’m willing to admit.”

She raised a brow. His honesty had become more frequent lately, quiet, unforced. It disarmed her every time.

The moment they entered, the atmosphere shifted. Servers stood straighter. Conversations paused. Someone whispered, “That’s Ryan Ashbrook.” Another replied, “Oh God, look at her, do you think that’s his wife who went missing?”

Ryan ignored them. Eve had learned to pretend she didn’t hear such things. But the whispers lingered like static, following them to their table.

The chef must have heard of their arrival in record time. Within minutes, plates arrived, complimentary. Beautifully arranged, fragrant, steaming.

Ryan leaned toward her and whispered with a teasing smile, “This smells half as good as your roasted tomato stew.”

She tried not to laugh.

“You’re flattering me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m stating a fact.”

She bit back a smile, warmth blooming in her chest.

Then came an envelope, presented by a nervous sous chef, who seemed so rattled he nearly forgot how to speak.

“Chef… requests to meet you, sir. He, also, left a proposal. For investment.”

Ryan sighed softly, of course. The Ashbrook name turned rational men into gamblers.

He didn’t open the proposal.

But he didn’t send the messenger away, either. He simply said, “If the chef wishes to greet us, he may come. But I won’t be discussing business at lunch.”

The sous chef nodded vigorously and hurried away.

Eve laughed quietly. “He’s going to faint in the hallway.”

Ryan smirked. “People do panic when they want something.”

His voice was relaxed, but there was something steel-like beneath it. Not arrogance. Clarity.

The door to the dining area opened.

Eve looked up,

And the breath left her body.

Matthew.

His chef’s jacket was pristine. His hair slicked back with confident arrogance. But his expression, when he saw her, twisted into something ugly and familiar.

“What the hell are you doing here, Eve?”

The room seemed to inhale all at once.

Gasps. Whispered sharp breaths. Someone covered their mouth.

Ryan didn’t stand, not yet. But every line of his body went still.

Matthew didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Eve with disdain that had clearly been fermenting over time.

He stepped forward, voice rising just enough for the nearby tables to hear.

“This woman is a fraud,” he announced. “A liar. It will do you good to stay away from her.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. Eve swallowed hard, but did not look away.

Matthew laughed bitterly. “We used to work in the same kitchen. She took credit for my work. Lied to customers. Slept with clients to get special treatment. The Rodrigos only kept her because they desperately wanted a daughter. She’s trash, sir. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

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