The Billionaire and His Heiress Wife

Chapter 2

AVELYN

“I wish you were my mommy.”

The words didn’t just land.

They burrowed.

Deep.

Sharp.

Unforgiving.

I stayed frozen on the staircase, one hand gripping the railing so tightly my knuckles whitened. My heart didn’t break in a dramatic shatter — it cracked quietly, like thin ice under too much weight.

Selene gasped softly, the kind of gasp meant to sound modest. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not—”

But she didn’t correct her.

She didn’t say your mother is wonderful.

Or don’t say that.

Or Avelyn loves you more than anything in the world.

She let the words hang there, sweet and poisonous.

Scarlett continued, her voice small but certain. “She’s pretty. And she knows how to do hair. And she doesn’t look… messy.”

My throat tightened.

Jeremy exhaled again — that same tired, dismissive sound he’d been making for months. “Scarlett, don’t say things like that.”

But he didn’t defend me either.

He didn’t say your mother is beautiful.

Or your mother works hard for you.

Or your mother is enough.

He just sounded… inconvenienced.

Selene’s voice softened. “It’s alright, Jeremy. Kids say what they feel.”

I closed my eyes.

No, they say what they’re taught to feel.

Scarlett hadn’t always been like this. She used to cling to my leg when she was scared. She used to crawl into my lap during thunderstorms. She used to draw pictures of us — stick figures with matching smiles.

Now she drew Selene.

I swallowed the ache and forced myself to breathe. In. Out. Quiet. Controlled. I’d learned long ago how to make myself small. How to disappear without leaving the room.

I stepped down the last stair.

The conversation stopped instantly.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward me.

Scarlett’s face flushed pink. She looked away, suddenly shy. Guilty. But not enough to undo the words she’d said.

Selene straightened, smoothing her dress. “Avelyn,” she said warmly, too warmly. “You look lovely now.”

Jeremy’s gaze flicked over me — clean hair, fresh blouse, jeans without flour. His expression softened a fraction, but not enough to matter.

“You should’ve changed earlier,” he murmured. “You know how Scarlett gets embarrassed.”

Embarrassed.

Of me.

I nodded once, because arguing would only make it worse. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Scarlett didn’t look at me.

Selene did — with triumph hidden behind sympathy.

I forced a smile. “I made cookies,” I said, my voice too bright, too hopeful. “They’re still warm.”

Scarlett shrugged. “Maybe later.”

Selene patted her head. “We had macarons, remember?”

Jeremy checked his watch. “I need to shower before the guests arrive. Selene, can you stay a bit? Scarlett likes having you around.”

My stomach twisted.

Selene smiled. “Of course.”

I stood there, holding a plate of cookies no one wanted, in a house that didn’t feel like mine, in a life that had slowly stopped belonging to me.

Scarlett tugged on Selene’s hand. “Can we braid my hair now?”

Selene beamed. “Absolutely.”

They walked past me — my daughter and the woman she wished was her mother — without a second glance.

Jeremy paused beside me. “Avelyn,” he said quietly, “try not to take things personally. Scarlett’s just… going through a phase.”

I nodded again, because what else was there to do.

He walked away.

And I stood alone in the hallway, the cookies cooling in my hands, the warmth fading from them just as it had faded from this house.

Just as it had faded from him and from me.

I set the plate down on the console table and pressed my palm to my chest, right over the place where the crack had formed.

It hurt.

Just enough to remind me that I was still human.

And for the first time in seven years, I wondered if trying was enough.

**

I always hated dinners with the Voss family.

Not because they were cruel — cruelty at least had honesty.

No, the Vosses specialized in something worse.

Polite dismissal.

Elegant disregard.

A kind of coldness wrapped in silk and silverware.

I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the simple navy dress I’d chosen. It wasn’t designer. It wasn’t new. But it was clean, modest, and appropriate. I curled my hair loosely, applied a touch of mascara, and dabbed on lip balm. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that would draw attention.

I didn’t want attention.

I just didn’t want to embarrass Jeremy again.

Downstairs, the house buzzed with voices — low, refined, confident. The Vosses never spoke loudly. They didn’t need to. Their presence filled every room.

I took a breath and descended the stairs.

Selene was already there.

She wore a fitted black dress that hugged her perfectly, her hair in soft waves, makeup flawless. She looked like she belonged in this house more than I ever had.

Scarlett sat beside her on the couch, giggling as Selene braided her hair. A complicated braid — the kind I’d never mastered. Scarlett’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

My chest tightened.

Jeremy stood near the bar cart, pouring wine for his parents. He looked up when he heard me step off the last stair.

His eyes flicked over me.

“You’re ready,” he said simply.

He didn't say I looked nice or beautiful.

His mother, Violeta, turned toward me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Avelyn,” she said, her voice smooth as glass. “You look… comfortable.”

Comfortable.

The polite way to say plain.

Selene hid a smirk.

I forced a smile. “Thank you.”

We moved to the dining room, where the table was set with crystal glasses and polished silver. I took my usual seat — at the far end, beside Scarlett. Selene sat beside Jeremy. She always did.

Dinner began with business talk — mergers, acquisitions, market shifts. I listened quietly, as I always did. I understood every word. I’d been trained by one of the sharpest business minds since I was twelve. But no one ever asked my opinion and not every strategy they were talking about will work.

But I wasn’t here to contribute.

I was here to fill a chair.

Violeta dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Selene, darling, how is your boutique doing? I saw your latest collection online. Stunning.”

Selene smiled modestly. “Thank you. It’s been a busy season, but I’m grateful. The demand has been overwhelming.”

Alistair nodded approvingly. “You’ve built something impressive. Not many young women have that kind of drive.”

His eyes slid to me.

The implication was clear.

Selene laughed lightly. “Oh, I just do what I love.”

“And you do it beautifully,” Violeta added.

Scarlett beamed. “Selene is the best designer ever.”

My fork paused mid‑air.

Jeremy didn’t correct her.

I swallowed and set my fork down. “I’ve been thinking,” I said softly, “about starting something of my own. Maybe a small business. Something flexible, so I can still be here for Scarlett.”

The table went silent.

Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “Avelyn, we’ve talked about this.”

“We haven’t,” I said gently. “Not really.”

He sighed. “Scarlett comes first. You know that. And what do you know about business? You haven't worked before.”

“I can still—”

“No.” His voice was firm. Final. “You’re not ready for that kind of responsibility.”

I blinked. It's like saying I'm not smart enough to open a business and that I don't know anything.

Responsibility.

As if I hadn’t been running this household alone for years.

As if I hadn’t raised our daughter while he worked late nights with Selene.

As if I hadn’t sacrificed every dream I’d ever had.

Violeta leaned back, swirling her wine. “Well,” she said with a soft, cutting laugh, “if it were Selene, I’m sure she could juggle motherhood and a business with flying colors.”

The words hit like a slap.

Selene lowered her gaze, pretending to be embarrassed. “Oh, Mrs. Voss…”

But she didn’t deny it.

Scarlett nodded eagerly. “Selene can do everything.”

My throat tightened.

Jeremy didn’t say a word.

No one did.

The silence was worse than the insult.

I picked up my fork again, but my hand trembled. I set it down before anyone noticed.

I looked at Scarlett — my daughter, my heart — and she was staring at Selene with the kind of admiration she used to have for me.

And I realized something.

I wasn’t losing my family.

I had already lost them.