Dear Billionaire, I'm Not Your Wife Anymore! - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"What? You're leaving?" Olivia asked.
I looked over and saw Linda standing there with elegant posture and perfectly appropriate smile: "My friend just called saying something came up and she can't make it, so I was just about to leave."
After saying this, she didn't forget to bend down and wave at Mia: "Mia, goodbye. Next time Auntie will take you to buy delicious food, okay?"
"Aunt Linda, don't go!" Mia reached her little hand toward her, urgency in her voice.
"Linda, we just arrived too. Why don't you eat with us!" Olivia also smiled and tried to persuade her to stay.
I quietly watched the scene before me. No one noticed the careful orchestration behind it, but I could see clearly—Linda did this deliberately.
She had deliberately come to the restaurant early, and was "just about to leave" after we entered, even wearing flawless full makeup.
Was this Braden's idea?
Did he want to use this method to arrange for her to join our family dinner in the guise of a "chance encounter"?
How thoughtfully planned.
"No need, Auntie. You're having a family dinner, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to disturb you." Linda's tone was friendly, her smile natural and proper.
But Margaret spoke up: "Since we've met, let's eat together! It's just a matter of adding one more seat."
"Let's eat together." Braden also spoke.
Once he spoke, Linda didn't decline further, nodding with a smile: "Then I won't be polite. I've been quite busy recently and haven't visited you and Grandma, so it's perfect to have a meal together."
Just like that, she naturally joined this dinner.
My expression remained unchanged, my heart like still water. Linda sat between Olivia and Grandma, Braden had Mia on one side, I sat next to my daughter, and further out was the servant beside Margaret.
"It's been a long time since we've eaten out. I wonder what new dishes this restaurant has added." Olivia said casually.
Linda beckoned a server over and seriously inquired about menu updates.
During the ordering process, Linda hit it off with mother-in-law, and the entire table's dishes were basically decided by the two of them.
I didn't interject, holding my tea cup and quietly watching Mia playing with her little toy, quiet as if I were out of place at this lively table.
"Linda, what have you been busy with lately?" Margaret asked her.
"Recently I've been preparing for a domestic concert, plus company business—quite a lot of trivial matters."
"Since I've known Linda, she's always been quite capable." Olivia continued with undisguised approval, "So young, yet running a company and organizing concerts. I saw quite a few of your endorsements last time too. Very good—young people should have drive."
After saying this, she suddenly became aware of me sitting beside her. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her gaze holding slight disdain and disgust.
She had always been this way. From the day I married into this family, she felt I wasn't worthy of her son. How could a girl who hadn't even attended university be worthy of Braden, who was "exceptionally gifted" in her eyes?
She never thought I was this family's pride, but only Braden's burden.
Linda seemed to suddenly remember something and took out an exquisite small gift box from her Chanel bag, walking to Mia with a smile: "Mia, Auntie brought you a gift."
I watched her crouch down, getting very close. That familiar perfume scent hit my nose—it was the same perfume Braden wore, woody and amber fragrance. Did she spray it deliberately?
When she handed over the gift, her body leaned forward slightly, her arm naturally brushing against Braden's shoulder. Braden didn't move, nor did he avoid it.
I turned my face away, took a sip of tea, and moved my gaze away from them.
Mia excitedly unwrapped the gift box and let out an exclamation when she saw the crystal ball inside: "Wow! I love it!"
Linda smiled indulgently: "If Mia likes it, Auntie is happy."
The moment she returned to her seat, I instinctively looked up, and our gazes collided. She was smiling—a faint smile—but I read the smugness and provocation in her eyes.
Dishes came one by one. Margaret ate while studying the cuisine, and Olivia laughed and joined the discussion. I silently took care of my daughter.
"I don't want to eat this, Daddy, you eat it." Mia pushed away a piece of cauliflower—something I had put on her plate, thinking she should eat some vegetables instead of just focusing on meat.
Braden took her plate, his tone indulgent: "You can't just eat meat; you need to eat some vegetables too."
Mia bit into her chicken leg, her little mouth shiny with oil, looking up coquettishly: "Daddy, wipe."
Braden smiled indulgently and picked up a wet wipe to clean her mouth.
As I watched my daughter eat, I inadvertently noticed Braden pushing that piece of cauliflower off the plate in disgust.