The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife.
Jonathan's grandfather could no longer hold back his rage—what had been simmering inside him now erupted in full force. His finger trembled as he pointed at Jonathan, his voice a thunderous roar:
"That mistress of yours drove Zara into early labor! The baby suffocated inside her before they could even get emergency care! And her mother—God help us—died on the spot from the shock! Jonathan Richards, this is all your doing—every last bit of it is on your hands!"
Jonathan stood frozen, his mind refusing to process the words.
His eyes darted around the room before he let out a cold, mocking laugh. He snatched up the divorce papers and ripped them to shreds.
"Grandpa, you're getting old. Stop playing along with Zara's little drama. There's no way she'd actually leave me. She'd never walk away from the Richards name—from the power, the money. She's not that stupid."
He kicked over one of the funeral wreaths, his lips curling in disdain. "What's with all this morbid crap? You're just pissed I didn't come home to see the kid, right?"
"Well, I'm here now. So where is he? Bring him out—let me take a look. Did you name him yet? Does he have my eyes? Or Zara's?"
Humming under his breath, Jonathan glanced around, waiting for someone to answer. But the servants kept their heads down, their faces shadowed with grief.
No one even acknowledged him.
A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He began searching the villa, flinging open doors, checking every room.
Nothing.
His voice tightened. "Where the hell are you hiding my son?"
"Grandpa, fine—I went too far last time. I shouldn't have laid a hand on Zara. But the baby's here now. You really think she's going to divorce me over some petty fight? Just tell me where she is. I'll apologize, sweet-talk her a little, and everything will go back to normal."
Jonathan didn't take Zara's anger seriously. He knew she'd never leave him.
No matter what he did, she had no choice but to endure it—for her mother's sake.
And now? They had a child. Another chain binding her to him.
Divorce? Walking away? Impossible.
A sharp crack split the air as the old man's cane slammed across Jonathan's back.
"You heartless bastard! How did our family raise a monster like you? You throw away a woman like Zara for some internet cross-dressing whore?"
Jonathan smirked, stretching out on the sofa like this was all some amusing game.
"Oh, so that's what this is about. You saw that trending scandal, huh? So this whole act is just to guilt-trip me? Grandpa, those women outside mean nothing. Zara's the only one who matters. I never planned to replace her."
When no one answered, he scoffed. "Fine. If you don't believe me, I'll prove it right now."
"That mistress of yours drove Zara into early labor! The baby suffocated inside her before they could even get emergency care! And her mother—God help us—died on the spot from the shock! Jonathan Richards, this is all your doing—every last bit of it is on your hands!"
Jonathan stood frozen, his mind refusing to process the words.
His eyes darted around the room before he let out a cold, mocking laugh. He snatched up the divorce papers and ripped them to shreds.
"Grandpa, you're getting old. Stop playing along with Zara's little drama. There's no way she'd actually leave me. She'd never walk away from the Richards name—from the power, the money. She's not that stupid."
He kicked over one of the funeral wreaths, his lips curling in disdain. "What's with all this morbid crap? You're just pissed I didn't come home to see the kid, right?"
"Well, I'm here now. So where is he? Bring him out—let me take a look. Did you name him yet? Does he have my eyes? Or Zara's?"
Humming under his breath, Jonathan glanced around, waiting for someone to answer. But the servants kept their heads down, their faces shadowed with grief.
No one even acknowledged him.
A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He began searching the villa, flinging open doors, checking every room.
Nothing.
His voice tightened. "Where the hell are you hiding my son?"
"Grandpa, fine—I went too far last time. I shouldn't have laid a hand on Zara. But the baby's here now. You really think she's going to divorce me over some petty fight? Just tell me where she is. I'll apologize, sweet-talk her a little, and everything will go back to normal."
Jonathan didn't take Zara's anger seriously. He knew she'd never leave him.
No matter what he did, she had no choice but to endure it—for her mother's sake.
And now? They had a child. Another chain binding her to him.
Divorce? Walking away? Impossible.
A sharp crack split the air as the old man's cane slammed across Jonathan's back.
"You heartless bastard! How did our family raise a monster like you? You throw away a woman like Zara for some internet cross-dressing whore?"
Jonathan smirked, stretching out on the sofa like this was all some amusing game.
"Oh, so that's what this is about. You saw that trending scandal, huh? So this whole act is just to guilt-trip me? Grandpa, those women outside mean nothing. Zara's the only one who matters. I never planned to replace her."
When no one answered, he scoffed. "Fine. If you don't believe me, I'll prove it right now."
End of The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife book page.