The Unwanted Wife's Secret Billionaire Heir

A few days later, Fiona sat by Eileen's bedside, carefully peeling an apple. The red skin came off in one long, continuous spiral, a small, satisfying act of control in a life that felt completely out of her hands.

The door swung open without a knock. It was Crystal, alone this time, a malicious glint in her eyes.

She ignored Fiona and perched on the edge of Eileen's bed, her voice sickly sweet. "Grandma Eileen, you look so much better today! But you know, I was just thinking... Fiona's been married for a while now. How come her new husband hasn't come to visit you even once?"

The question was a poisoned dart, aimed with perfect precision.

The apple peel in Fiona's hand snapped.

Eileen's brow furrowed with the same thought she'd been too polite to voice. "She's right, Fiona. Is everything alright between you two? Did you have a fight?"

Fiona looked up, meeting her cousin's triumphant smirk. She had to lie. For Eileen. The stress of a family drama was the last thing she needed before a major surgery.

She forced a calm, gentle smile. "Of course not, Grandma. Holland's just... he's incredibly busy with work."

Crystal pounced. "Busy? Too busy to meet his wife's sick grandmother? The CEO of Montgomery Industries can't spare an hour?"

Her logic was infuriatingly sound. Fiona's simple lie was already unraveling. She had to make it better, more detailed.

"He's in the middle of a huge merger with a European company," Fiona elaborated, pulling details from a business article she'd skimmed. "The time difference is a nightmare. He's on conference calls all night. He wanted to come, I promise. I'm the one who told him not to. I didn't want him to disturb your rest."

She added another layer, hating herself with every word. "He calls me every night to ask how you're doing, but it's always after you've fallen asleep."

The details worked. Eileen's worried expression softened. "Well, that's understandable. Business is important. Just make sure he's taking care of himself."

Crystal, thwarted, changed tactics. Her eyes landed on the simple, worn watch on Fiona's wrist. "Seriously, Fiona? You're a Montgomery now and you're still wearing that cheap thing? Is your husband that stingy?"

Fiona glanced down at the watch. "Grandma gave this to me for my college graduation," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "It's worth more to me than anything he could ever buy."

The simple, honest answer shut Crystal up. Eileen beamed with pride.

After a few more minutes of failing to find a new line of attack, Crystal left in a huff.

The moment the door closed, a profound exhaustion washed over Fiona. It was more than the pregnancy, more than the stress. It was the crushing weight of the performance, of defending a man who despised her, of fabricating a happy marriage that was nothing but a cold, empty contract.

Eileen reached out and took her hand. "Fiona," she said softly. "If you're ever unhappy, you have to tell me. No matter what."

Fiona's throat tightened. The urge to break down, to confess everything, was overwhelming. But she couldn't. She just squeezed her grandmother's hand and smiled through the lump in her throat. "I'm fine, Grandma. As long as I have you, I'm fine."

That night, back in the sterile silence of the apartment Holland had rented for her, she stared at his name in her phone's contacts. Her thumb hovered over the call button.

She couldn't do it.

Instead, she typed out a brief, transactional text. Grandma's surgery is next week. I'll handle the bill.

She hit send and turned her phone off, the darkness of the screen a reflection of her own.

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