I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Gwendolyn was already waiting by the door.

Her voice shot out before I even hit the last step. ‘Mirabelle! Come in, come in. It’s freezing out here.’

Technically, she was my mother-in-law. Kind of.

I didn’t like her much, but she hadn’t done anything outrageous yet, and I wasn’t about to start a war over guesswork.

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Plus, she was probably still traumatised from how much she spent the last time we met.

‘I’d cleaned Ashton’s old room for you to stay the night.’ She beamed at me.

I gave her a vague smile and mumbled something noncommittal while pretending I hadn’t heard.

The staff had strung up a few lights in the sitting room.

There were balloons, cake boxes stacked on the sideboard, and a faint smell of polish and vanilla.

Once everything was set, I texted Ashton: [I’m at the Laurent estate. Come for dinner tonight.]

He called before I even put the phone down.

‘Where are you?’ His voice was low, tight.