All Chapters of Married To My Ex-Fiance's Billionaire Uncle: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

(Emily’s POV)."Hi, I cooked lunch for you. Is it okay if I come to your office?" I asked, my voice light as I held the phone to my ear. I had just finished packing the lunch into the food box, ensuring everything was neatly organized. Mike had been so busy lately that we barely had time for lunch together, and it might brighten his day if I surprised him. But still, I wanted to make sure he didn’t mind me dropping by.On the other end, I heard his deep chuckle, the sound instantly warming my heart. “Of course it’s okay,” Mike said, his voice filled with affection. “I’d be more than happy if you came over. I’ve missed having lunch with you.”A smile crept across my face at his words. “I’ll come over, then,” I said, already feeling the excitement build inside me. “I’ll have the driver take me. Should I bring Christopher along, or do you want me all to yourself?”Mike laughed again, a low, soothing sound. “As much as I love our son, leave him with the staff today. You’re still recover

(Mike’s POV)."Who the hell are you? Get off me!" Ellen's voice pierced through the walls, full of desperation and fury. I stood just outside the door, hearing her screams as she fought against the men I had sent to retrieve her. She must have been struggling hard, like a cornered animal, thrashing wildly. Ellen had no idea that it had been me behind all this. But she would soon find out.I’d instructed my men to bring her in—quietly, efficiently, no unnecessary attention. I wanted to confront her face-to-face, one-on-one. And it wasn’t until they caught her, wrestling her into submission, that Ellen realized the gravity of the situation.The truth was, Ellen thought she could get away with anything. Meddling in my family’s affairs, making reckless decisions that endangered everything I cared about. She’d underestimated me. She always did.As I approached the door, wearing black leather gloves I’d slipped on in preparation for this meeting, I braced myself. If things got rough, I wa

(Emily's POV).“Can you tell me more specifically what you decided for her?” I asked, my voice quiet but insistent as I slipped under the covers. Mike had already turned off the lights, and the room was dark except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp. We were supposed to be getting ready for bed, but my mind was still spinning from everything I’d found out earlier.Mike paused, standing at the foot of the bed, his hands lingering at the hem of his shirt. He sighed deeply, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "Why do you want to know more, Love?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.I could feel his hesitation, but I wasn’t going to let him evade this. Not now. "Because I know you," I said softly, looking at him in the dim light. "I know you’ve done something... something more than you’ve told me."He sat down on the edge of the bed, still not looking at me, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched b

(Emily's POV).Mike leaned against the counter, his eyes watching me carefully. His gaze held a mix of concern and anticipation, as if he was waiting for me to reveal how I truly felt about last night.“How’d you sleep?” he asked again, a little softer this time, as though he already knew my answer.I sipped the coffee he handed me, letting the warmth settle the unease still lingering from the night before. “Better than I thought I would,” I replied, though my voice didn’t sound as convincing as I’d hoped.Mike’s eyes flickered with understanding. “It was a lot to handle,” he admitted, moving closer to me. “You being there, with him... It was bound to stir up something.”I stared into my coffee, swirling it around absentmindedly, trying to push away the thoughts of Ben’s lingering glances, the tension that had filled the room like a heavy fog. No matter how much I wanted to pretend last night didn’t affect me, it did.“Yeah, it brought up a lot of old feelings,” I admitted quietly, f

(Emily’s POV).“Welcome to the city of love, Love.”Mike’s deep, velvety voice greeted me the moment we stepped off the private plane. His lips captured mine in a soft kiss, making my heart skip a beat. As the cool Paris air brushed against my skin, I felt a surge of warmth—not just from the weather, but from the love in his touch. I closed my eyes, kissing him back tenderly, savoring the sweetness of this moment.When we finally pulled apart, I smiled up at him, my chest swelling with emotion. “That’s quite the welcome,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his chest. “I’m so happy, Mike. This is all so romantic.”He chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Well, this is Paris. It’s a city made for romance,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “And you deserve nothing but the best, Mrs. Johnson.” His words were warm and affectionate, and I felt my heart flutter all over again.Just as we shared another intimate look, a man in a crisp s