The Disguised Billionaire She Rejected novel Chapter 159

chapter 159

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Julia’s frown deepened as she stared at the unfamiliar number, her thumb hovering over the screen. Marcus simply nodded at her, urging her to answer. Taking a breath, she swiped to accept.

The screen flickered, and a man’s face filled the display. Julia’s breath caught instantly. She had seen that face on campaign posters, on billboards, on the news countless times.

“Senate President!” she shouted, nearly dropping the phone.

Emery chuckled warmly at her reaction. “Good afternoon, Ms. Julia. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

Julia shook her head frantically, still stunned. “No, no, not at all! I just… I can’t believe you actually called.”

“I told my representatives I would,” Emery said with an easy smile. “I always keep my word.”

Before Julia could respond, another face pushed into the frame beside him, younger, bright-eyed, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Teacher Julia!”

It was his daughter, the one who had supposedly discovered Julia’s lecture videos. Her enthusiasm was unmistakable as she launched into how much the videos had helped her, how she’d shared them with her classmates, how grateful she was. Julia’s cheeks flushed as she stammered her thanks, still trying to process that this was really happening.

Marcus watched quietly from the side, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Whatever plan he’d set in motion, this part, the girl’s genuine gratitude, had never been part of it. Pure coincidence. He found it almost amusing how neatly things had folded together.

After a few more pleasantries, Emery’s tone shifted to something more official. “I’ll be appearing on your channel tomorrow, if that works for you. And of course, the house you selected will be arranged right

away. Consider it done.”

Julia pressed a hand to her chest, blinking back tears again. “Thank you… thank you so much, sir.”

“Thank you for the work you do,” Emery replied simply. Moments later, the call ended.

Julia stood frozen for a second, phone still in hand, before spinning around and throwing her arms around Marcus, holding him tightly, her face buried in his shoulder.

Meanwhile, in Dubai, Ryan stepped out of a taxi in front of a towering glass office building, adjusting his jacket. Marcus and Natasha had given him one task: trace where Eden had last been seen with his wife. Word was he’d come here on a business trip.

Ryan pushed through the revolving doors into a marble-floored lobby and approached the front desk, offering the receptionist a polite, practiced smile.

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Ryan introduced himself. Natasha already made her plan ahead. So as soon as he introduced himself to the receptionist, she immediately bowed for him. After some greetings, Ryan told her what he was here for.

“I’m looking for information on a Mr. Eden,” he said. “I understand he does business with this company.”

The receptionist tapped at her keyboard, studying the screen for a moment before looking up. “Yes, he’s still one of our associates. Though he hasn’t come in physically in over a year now. Everything’s been handled remotely, calls, emails, contracts. but she was one of our respected, and responsible partner.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed slightly at that. A year. He kept his expression neutral.

“I see,” he said. “And the last time he was here in person, would you happen to know if his wife was with

him?”

The receptionist nodded, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. “Yes, actually. I remember quite vividly, his wife always follow him around, in a way. She was his assistant manager. They always came in together, every single time. You’d rarely see one without the other.”

Ryan’s mind turned that over. If they always came together, and now Eden hadn’t shown up in person for over a year… and neither had she. Something didn’t add up. There was more to this than a simple business trip gone quiet.

“Do you happen to know where he stayed during his time here?” Ryan asked. “An apartment, maybe, or a residence he used while working with you?”

The receptionist hesitated only briefly before pulling up a file and jotting down an address on a small notepad. She slid it across the counter to him. “This is the last address we have on record for him. I can’t say if it’s still current, but it’s what we’ve got.”

Ryan thanked her and left the building, folding the paper into his pocket. He caught another taxi and the driver the address, watching the city blur past the window as his thoughts churned.

gave

The taxi pulled up outside a modest but well-kept house on a quiet residential street. Ryan stepped out, studied the building for a moment, then walked up to the front door and knocked.

An older man answered, gray-haired, weathered, with sharp, wary eyes. He introduced himself as the landlord of the property.

“I’m looking for some information,” Ryan said, pulling out his phone and showing him a photo. “Do you know who this man is?”

The old man leaned in, studying the photo carefully, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then he straightened, his face hardening.

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