Rebirth of Billionaire's Wife (Eveline)

Chapter 392 392: 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."

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

of me — like this?" Jedrick mused, his voice smooth but edged with mockery. "Like a fierce little cat, ready

words darkened Mischelle's expression, and she couldn't hold back the sharp retort building on her

she snapped. "Don't you have any shame, after everything you've put your family

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,

lowering, heavy and sharp like the crack of a glacier splitting in the dead of winter. "They were

hung between them, chilling the air and tightening the silence like a

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

you hate them so much?" Mischelle asked quietly, unable

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

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

her the one thing he thought he'd lost — his sperm. And from that, Ella was

the one she never wanted to dream of again. And yet, here she was. Married to him. Facing him. Questioning the

all of this end?" Mischelle murmured, the question slipping from her

she received stunned

— like the calm

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 —

startling them both from their thoughts. Jedrick's expression shifted in an instant, his eyes narrowing and his features hardening as the voice from

in his gaze deepened, and Mischelle knew — whoever was