I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Ashton entered the study first and walked straight to the leather chair behind the desk.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t look up. He unlocked his phone, scrolled, tapped something, and stayed quiet.

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Franklin hovered near the centre of the rug, hands twitching at his sides, eyes darting around like he couldn’t decide whether to sit or stay upright.

Eventually, he stayed standing.

Ashton kept scrolling.

Franklin cleared his throat.

No response.

‘I know Mira’s been... distant,’ he started, his voice thin. ‘She probably told you stuff about us. Some of it is true, I admit. But we raised her. She’s got a temper, sure, but she’s our daughter. Watching her do well now... it makes me proud.’

Ashton’s eyes flicked up, then dropped back to the screen.

Franklin kept going, his tone sliding into something meant to sound sentimental. ‘She hardly comes home these days. I miss her. Her mother does too.’

The corners of Ashton’s mouth twitched.

Franklin perked up a little, mistaking it for warmth.