Substitute Wife For The Blind CEO

Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Hate

The music from the main event hall echoed faintly as she and Stefan stepped out of the room. Her heart still pounded with the remnants of tension from their meeting with Mr. Rogers.

She glanced sideways at Stefan, his jaw tight and unreadable. He hadn’t said a word to her but she could sense the weight he was carrying. And she felt it too—the guilt, the helplessness, the worry that she’d somehow messed everything up.

When they took a corner just before the main hall, she stopped, turning to him. Her fingers nervously played with her purse as she took a steadying breath.

"Baby," she began softly, her voice tinged with remorse, "I’m... I’m really sorry."

He turned toward her, his brows furrowed, confusion flashing across his face. "Sorry?" he asked.

She nodded, blinking back the sting in her eyes. "About Mr. Rogers. About the deal. I know this was all my fault. I know how important Mr. Rogers was to the company and... maybe if I’d handled things better or if I hadn’t frozen up—"

"Ruby," Stefan interrupted gently, reaching out to cradle her face in his hands. "Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You know I don’t like that."

"But—"

"No." His tone was firm, yet laced with tenderness. "None of this is your fault. If anything, it’s mine—for putting you in a situation where you had to explain something that wasn’t yours to carry in the first place."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but the look in his eyes stopped her cold. There was something deeper there—fierce, unshakable, protective. She knew he’d always say that so why had she even tried to take the blame.

"If fighting for you means losing deals, investors, or even the whole damn company," Stefan continued, brushing his thumb against her smooth cheek, "then so be it. I’d rather lose all of it than lose you."

A startled laugh escaped her lips, a soft mixture of relief and disbelief. "That’s... a bit dramatic, don’t you think?" she teased, though her heart fluttered at his words.

He gave a lopsided grin. "Maybe. But it’s true."

She shook her head, smiling now. "Well, I really hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m not sure I could live with being the reason your company crashes."

He chuckled, slipping his arm around her waist. "It won’t. We’ll be fine. Together."

Together.

word echoed sweetly in her mind, grounding her, warming her from the

a beat, glancing around, "how about we go find your best

then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But first, I need to take a quick pee break. Can you

"Sure," she replied, smiling.

her forehead and turned away,

letting out a long breath. The tension from earlier was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a fragile hope that things

in front, trying to guess where Rayna and Ethan might’ve gone or be standing when

turned, expecting maybe an assistant—or one of the event

her with all the grace and arrogance she had grown to dread... was

caught. The hall suddenly felt

whispered, her

does she want now? What game is

unreadable—calm, almost smug. Her eyes locked on

but Ruby barely registered it. Her attention was wholly consumed by the unexpected, unwelcome presence before

telling herself she wasn’t going to ever let Ivy get away

low and mocking, bouncing off the polished walls

dust off her silver dress. "Honestly, Ruby, what did you think spilling those childish grievances in front of Mr. Rogers would achieve? Did you think your sob story could sway him? Get

curled in

tilted her head,

you hate me so much?" Ruby asked softly, her voice raw but steady. "I want to know. I really want to know what I did to deserve this never-ending war you’ve declared on me. We used to be friends, Ivy. What happened? Where did I go wrong with you? Because I can’t seem to understand,"

or not step in immediately but as the conversation unfolded, she instinctively reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and pressed record. Live. From her angle, she had a perfect view and a clear

turn things around

in one night..." She crossed her

by how easily the words seemed to pour out

then... our father wouldn’t stop comparing us. Every damn report

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