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Chapter 25: Dean’s Protection
publish date:
2026-07-30 02:20:21
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From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 30: Oscar’s Desperation
The dimly lit interior of the uptown lounge smelled of stale whiskey, leather, and cigar smoke—a far cry from the opulent, sun-drenched boardrooms Oscar Grayson used to frequent. Oscar sat in a corner booth, staring into the amber depth of his glass. His crisp designer suit, once immaculate, was slightly wrinkled at the elbows. The dark circles under his eyes spoke to weeks of sleepless nights, driven by a toxic cocktail of wounded pride, escalating financial terror, and relentless pressure. Opposite him, Maeve Sterling didn't bother to hide her disdain. She tapped her manicured nails against the dark wood table, her crimson lips pulled into a sharp, impatient line. "My father is pulling the Sterling Group's support from your secondary investments by the end of the week, Oscar," Maeve said, her voice dropping into a cold, transactional whisper. "The board meeting yesterday was a bloodbath. Dean stripped your remaining voting rights on the international retail committee. You’re eff
From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 29: The Private Showing
The frantic energy that had consumed the Mercer Street loft during fashion week had finally settled into a serene, meditative quiet. It was two o'clock in the morning. Outside, a gentle summer rain brushed against the towering arched windows, blurring the warm yellow streetlights below. Inside the studio, most of the work lights had been switched off, leaving only a single, warm spotlight focused on the central fitting pedestal. Adelaide stood before a dress form, dressed in a soft cream cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and her dark hair secured in a loose, casual twist. She held a pin cushion wrapped around her wrist, a pair of steel shears resting in the back pocket of her trousers. On the mannequin was her newest project—a breathtaking, midnight-black silk velvet evening gown that absorbed the light like a starless night sky. She leaned in close, her slender fingers carefully pleating a heavy fold of velvet across the hip, securing it with a single, pr
From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 28: The Counter-Move
For thirty-six hours, the lights inside the Mercer Street loft never flickered off. While the high-society tabloids printed breathless rumors that *Vance Atelier* was on the brink of collapse due to "unspecified supply chain failures," Adelaide worked with cold, mathematical precision. She had stripped away the impounded Italian silk and replaced it with something far more dangerous to her enemies: absolute, raw authenticity. Using museum-grade architectural linen, un-dyed mulberry flax, and vintage silver-threaded brocade salvaged from her father’s historical conservation vault, Adelaide completely re-engineered the final eight looks of the collection. "Look at the way the un-dyed flax takes the light," Marcus breathed, stepping back from a high-backed dress form with bloodshot, exhausted eyes. He held a hand steamer, watching as the heavy, organic textile settled into a razor-sharp, sculptural drape. "It doesn't shimmer like synthetic silk, Adelaide. It... it glows. It looks lik
From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 27: Maeve’s Sabotage
The rain over Manhattan was relentless, slicking the cobblestone street outside the Mercer Street loft with a cold, gray sheen. Inside *Vance Atelier*, the atmosphere was usually a symphony of controlled creation, but at six o’clock on Tuesday morning, that symphony screeched to a sudden, violent halt. Adelaide stood in the center of the cutting room, holding a sleek glass cup of black coffee that had long since gone cold. Before her stood Clara, whose trembling hands held an urgent manifest update on a glowing tablet, and Marcus, whose jaw was clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stood out like corded steel. On the central cutting tables, instead of the vibrant rolls of custom-dyed Italian silk required for the centerpiece evening gowns, lay empty pattern sheets. "Impounded?" Adelaide asked. Her voice was not loud. It carried no hysterical pitch, no frantic edge. It was a low, sub-zero register that cut straight through the tense silence of the room. "Port Authority locked
From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 26: Launching Vance Atelier
The floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the Mercer Street loft framed the sprawling New York skyline, but inside, the city did not exist. There was only the sharp snip-snip of tailor’s shears, the low hum of heavy-duty sewing machines, and the clean, distinct scent of raw silk and steam.For three weeks following the dinner at Blackwood Hall, the high-society tabloids had been ablaze with whispers of Adelaide Vance's absolute triumph over the Grayson family’s inner circle. Her social standing was no longer a question; she was the untouched queen of the penthouse, backed by both the ruthless authority of Dean Grayson and the absolute blessing of the matriarch.But Adelaide had no intention of resting on the laurels of a gilded surname."The structural tension on the shoulder of the emerald evening coat is off by two millimeters," Adelaide said, her clear, decisive voice cutting through the bustling studio.She stood at the center of the main fitting floor, dressed in a simple, immaculate
From Discarded Wife to His Billionaire Aunt Chapter 25: Dean’s Protection
The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind Adelaide and Leo, leaving the ancestral dining room in a silence so profound that the soft ticking of the grand grandfather clock in the corner sounded like thunder. For three long seconds, no one moved. No one drew a breath. The sheer spectacle of the reclusive heir seeking out Adelaide—and addressing her with such casual, affectionate intimacy—had turned the entire room on its axis. Then, Aunt Evelyn let out a sharp, forced laugh, cutting through the stillness like a dull knife. "Well," Evelyn murmured, swirling her white wine with an airy, dismissive shake of her head. "Isn't that... sweet. Though I must say, allowing a child to interrupt a formal family dinner over a simple drawing is rather unrefined. A proper mother would have instructed the boy to wait in his quarters until the adults finished their meal. It only proves Adelaide lacks the structure to raise a Grayson heir." The words had barely left Evelyn’s lips when a sharp, deafen
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