Rebirth of Billionaire's Wife-Chapter 392: When will all of this end
Inside the room, Mischelle watched as Jedrick sat, completely immersed in his work. Despite his focus, he still managed to notice her lingering gaze.
"Am I attractive, darling?" he asked casually, his voice laced with amusement.
The question made Mischelle's lips twitch in irritation, but the moment she caught sight of the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"How long are you planning to keep me isolated? By now, everyone knows you married me," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to make Jedrick lean back slightly in his chair.
He studied her furious expression, eyes locked on his as if she were peeling away his layers, one by one, intent on devouring him whole.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "What do you want to do?" he asked, surprising her.
Mischelle blinked, thrown off by his calm and composed response. She'd expected him to snap, to shut the conversation down the moment she brought it up. His patience only deepened her suspicion, but she didn't voice it.
Instead, she straightened her spine and held her ground. "I don't like being stuck here when I have a job waiting for me back in my hometown," she stated firmly.
Jedrick nodded, as if genuinely understanding. "So, you want to work?" he asked.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Glad you finally understood."
Jedrick leaned back in his chair, faintly amused by the sharpness in her voice. He couldn't help but marvel at how, even after everything, he still found himself tolerating her stubbornness. And that, more than anything, surprised him.
"How about I provide for you, and you just stay here — right in front of me — like this?" Jedrick mused, his voice smooth but edged with mockery. "Like a fierce little cat, ready to pounce and sink her claws into me."
His words darkened Mischelle's expression, and she couldn't hold back the sharp retort building on her tongue.
"You're such a sadist, Jedrick," she snapped. "Don't you have any shame, after everything you've put your family through?"
For a fleeting second, his smile faltered. The warmth drained from his eyes, replaced by a glacial coldness. Yet the smug curve of his lips stayed, fixed like it was carved there.
"I don't have a family, Mischelle," he said, his voice lowering, heavy and sharp like the crack of a glacier splitting in the dead of winter. "They were never mine. And whatever I'm doing to them — they deserve every bit of it."
The words hung between them, chilling the air and tightening the silence like a noose.
Jedrick showed no hint of remorse as the words left his mouth, as if he had long since accepted the truth that they were never really his family. The love, the care his parents once showered on him — none of it had ever mattered to him. His heart had been too consumed by something deeper, something darker. Revenge. For a wound that had been festering for far too long.
"Why do you hate them so much?" Mischelle asked quietly, unable to hold the question back.
It was the first time they had ever spoken about it face-to-face. The weight of the moment tightened around her chest, making her heart cling to a fragile thread of hope — hope for even the smallest trace of humanity in him. But that hope slipped through her fingers the longer she looked at him.
Jedrick was the same man who had used her once, using her body as nothing more than a means to purge the drugs from his system — and in doing so, had cost himself the ability to ever father a child again.
But fate had rewritten that ending. Against all odds, he had unknowingly given her the one thing he thought he'd lost — his sperm. And from that, Ella was born.
Jedrick wasn't just a shadow from her past. He was the haunting nightmare she'd tried so hard to forget, the one she never wanted to dream of again. And yet, here she was. Married to him. Facing him. Questioning the same man who had destroyed so much, even the people who had once truly loved him.
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"When will all of this end?" Mischelle murmured, the question slipping from her lips before she could stop it.
The reply she received stunned her.
"Soon," Jedrick said, his voice steady and clear — like the calm ripple of water after a storm has passed.
The simple word shattered something inside her. For a moment, her heart forgot how to steady itself, thrown into disarray by the weight of his answer. She stared at him, searching his expression for any sign of doubt, any hint of what he truly meant — but all she found was cold certainty.
The silence between them stretched, tense and unbroken, until a sharp knock rattled the door, startling them both from their thoughts. Jedrick's expression shifted in an instant, his eyes narrowing and his features hardening as the voice from the other side drifted in.
The darkness in his gaze deepened, and Mischelle knew — whoever was at that door wasn't bringing good news.
Before Mischelle could fully process what had just happened, Jedrick was already out of the room. But even after he left, his words lingered, echoing through her mind.
Soon.
She repeated it over and over, each time the word stirring a different emotion in her chest — hope, fear, confusion. The simplicity of it haunted her, more unsettling than any threat he could've voiced.
She stood there for a long while, rooted in place by uncertainty, until her curiosity finally pushed her to move. Quietly, she walked to the door and eased it open, stepping out into the dimly lit corridor.
Her eyes scanned the hall, alert for any sign of him, when the faint sound of his voice drifted to her ears. Following the sound, she moved carefully toward the railing, her footsteps light and measured.
From her vantage point, she spotted Jedrick downstairs, standing rigid with barely restrained fury. His expression was sharp, his brows deeply furrowed, and the man standing before him kept his head bowed, clearly distressed.
She couldn't make out the full conversation, but the scolding edge in Jedrick's voice was unmistakable. Whatever news the man had delivered, it wasn't good.
The lines etched deep across Jedrick's forehead told her enough — things weren't going as smoothly as he'd wanted her to believe.
But then, her eyes shifted — drawn to another figure seated across the room, half-hidden in the shadowed corner. The moment her gaze locked onto the unfamiliar woman, a sharp wave of realization crashed through her.
Is that... the woman Ben mentioned?
The thought settled heavily in her mind, knotting her stomach with unease.
