Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me by Thedora Birnir

Chapter 138

Chapter 138 Two–timing

Flynn Mansion.

Linda’s growing unease over the past few days finally solidified into certainty.

Her fingers tightened around the two delicate tortoiseshell hairpins–something she had just discovered beneath Ernest’s pillow.

They weren’t hers.

Then whose were they?

First, there was a photo of another woman. Now, this.

“Ernest!”

Linda’s voice cracked as she held up the incriminating haripins, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Whose are these?”

Ernest’s gaze flickered downward, averting her question.

Although he couldn’t form complete sentences, his silence spoke volumes-a refusal, a quiet defiance.

“Ha… haha.”

Linda let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound hollow in the stillness.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot–you still can’t talk, can you?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her emotions teetering on the edge. “Fine. Let’s make this easy. Just nod or shake your head. Can you do that?”

She inhaled sharply, and then pressed on, her voice lower but no less cutting. “Tell me, Ernest… is there someone else? Huh? Is that what this is?”

Still, he said nothing. His head remained bowed, his gaze avoiding hers, his silence a shield he refused to lower. Rage flared in Linda’s chest, burning away the last remnants of her restraint.

She reached out abruptly, her fingers gripping his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Look at me!” she demanded, her voice trembling with emotion. “Answer me, damn it! Nod or shake your head! Is it really that hard?”

Ernest’s thick brows knit together, his lips pressed into a firm line. His eyes held something–an emotion she couldn’t decipher, something locked away beneath layers of unreadable restraint.

And yet, in that unbearable silence, she knew. It was true.

But when? How?

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He had been in a coma for years–it couldn’t have been then. So… it had to be before he went into a coma?

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Linda froze, her entire body going rigid as a chilling thought crept into her mind.

“Ernest!” Linda’s voice trembled with fury, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“Is this what I deserve?” she choked out, her voice raw with emotion. “Did you ever even think about me when you were with her?”

Ernest sat motionless, his gaze locked on the floor, silent as ever, but his breathing faltered.

“Who is she? Who is she, Ernest?” Linda demanded, her voice rising like a whip crack.

know what I’m talking about!” Her voice broke with

down, but

Linda, prying her

sobbed. “Doesn’t this matter to you? Don’t you want

Nyla murmured. “I’ll ask

tell me this is all a misunderstanding. You can’t explain, so should we call Quentin? Maybe

time, Ernest stirred.

long silence stretched between them before he finally moved. A

strength crumbled. “Ernest, you

hairpins. “You won’t say a damn thing, huh? You keep these–treasuring them, touching them, holding onto them like some sacred token. Like they actually means something to you.” Her lips curling into a bitter sneer. “Well then, let’s see how much you

one swift, merciless motion, she flung the hairpins out the

“No!”

through the air like

even process the shock–something unthinkable happened. Ernest

wheelchair, his legs shaking violently beneath him, his body protesting the sudden demand. But he

His body crashed to the floor

“Ernest!”

filled the space as she darted toward him, her

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hands trembling as she tried to help him up. “Ernest, can you hear

Linda, her expression

doing?” Nyla snapped, her breath shaky. “Was this really

he’s still weak!”

Linda’s voice wavered, barely a

exhaled, shaking her head. The exhaustion in her voice was

voice softer now. “But…

Uncertain?

laugh slipped past

see it? The way Ernest had reacted–the sheer panic in his voice, the way he had moved for

had nothing to

urgent voice broke the tension. “Come in

and in

“What happened?”

brother sprawled on the floor. In an instant, he strode forward,

as he helped

moment Ernest was seated, he didn’t spare anyone a glance. His fingers pressed the wheelchair’s

a word, he started rolling

from Ernest to Linda, utterly

hell is

“Oh no…”

face. Without wasting a second, she hurried after him. “Come on! Let’s follow

him!”

as he made his way downstairs, heading straight for the

do. Turning

entire household joined the effort.

one of the servants asked. “Two hairpins,” Nyla responded quickly. “Tortoiseshell. Small. Check everywhere!”

are you saying… my

weight of the situation pressing heavily on her.

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