Unwanted Fake Wife The Top Billionaire novel Chapter 8

Julian was still fuming.

"Go get my phone," he barked at his wife. "I'm calling Richard myself. I need to ask him what kind of daughter he raised. And the Hawthornes—what kind of heartless trash did they raise?"

"Julian, I'm fine." Elena rushed to wipe her tears, afraid the stress would affect his health. "I can handle this. Please don't worry about me."

After much coaxing, Julian finally calmed down. He looked at her kindly. "You've always been too soft. That's why they think they can walk all over you."

He'd watched Elena grow up. She had the looks, the smarts, the temperament—everything. And yet that blind Nathan had tossed away a diamond and clung to glass.

"Don't worry. I won't let them get away with it."

They chatted for a while longer, and Elena left. She never once brought up Victoria's condition or asked for a house call.

It was the weekend. She and Chloe had lunch plans. By 2 p.m., she still hadn't heard a word from Victoria. Which was strange.

Curious, she checked her phone, politely declined Chloe's invite to go shopping, and drove back to the Hawthorne estate.

The moment she stepped inside, she heard violent retching from the living room. Elena blinked.

And there was Julian. He sat stiffly on the couch, face stone-cold. Nathan, Camille, and Victor all looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.

As for Victoria? One glance and Elena burst out laughing.

Victoria was holding a bowl bigger than her face, full of some murky black soup. Her face was twisted as she gagged between sips.

The air stank of something bitter and sour.

She took two big gulps, her lips now stained black, and whined to Julian, "Do I really have to drink this? Weren't the needles enough before?"

Julian kept his eyes shut, looking every bit the sage. "Your condition was milder then. Now it's worse. You need both acupuncture and this formula. I made it myself. It's for asthma."

"It tastes awful. Ugh—"

Victoria dry-heaved again. Camille rushed to hold the trash can for her. Julian scowled. "If you can't even handle a little bitterness, then don't bother drinking it."

"I'll drink it! I'll drink it!"

Victoria clutched the bowl and chugged like her life depended on it. When she finally finished, she turned to Victor and croaked, "Water. I need water."

A wave of foul-smelling air followed. Victor instinctively covered his nose. "You smell like you ate garbage."

Victoria's face turned pale, but the medicine had drained her strength. All she could do was glare.

Once Julian left, Elena came back to the living room. Victoria lay limply on the couch, still grimacing at the aftertaste. "You. Stop right there."

She called out to Elena, who was heading upstairs.

Elena turned. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you come with Julian? Didn't you invite him?"

Victoria narrowed her eyes at her.

"Have you lost your mind? That's just being polite! Every guy does that in business!"

"I've wasted my life on you! Nathan, look at your father! He's chasing after a model half his age!"

Victoria collapsed onto the couch in a puddle of tears. Nathan rushed to comfort her, ignoring Elena entirely. Elena stood there, unmoved.

Victor had been careful about his affair. She only found out from a friend in entertainment news. She hadn't planned on revealing it—but they had brought this on themselves.

Watching Victoria panic and spiral, Elena found it oddly satisfying. Sometimes, people had to get burned to understand pain.

With chaos behind her, Elena left the Hawthorne estate. They wouldn't bother her for a while.

It had been a pretty good weekend.

Monday, Elena arrived at Swiftline and immediately sensed something was off.

Her coworker Hannah leaned over, whispering, "Andy's been holed up in his office for over thirty minutes."

"Someone getting chewed out?"

Elena asked, lowering her voice. Hannah gave her a strange look. "You seriously don't know?"

"What?"

"You're not gonna believe this... your husband's here. And he brought Camille with him."