Chapter 405
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 405:
First, there was a photo of another woman. Now, this.
âErnest!â
Lindaâs voice cracked as she held up the incriminating hairpins, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
âWhose are these?â
Ernestâs gaze flickered downward, averting her question.
Although he couldnât form complete sentences, his silence spoke volumesâa refusal, a quiet defiance.
âHa⦠haha.â
Linda let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound hollow in the stillness.
âOh, right. I almost forgotâyou still canât talk, can you?â Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her emotions teetering on the edge.
âFine. Letâs make this easy. Just nod or shake your head. Can you do that?â
She inhaled sharply, and then pressed on, her voice lower but no less cutting.
âTell me, Ernest⦠is there someone else? Huh? Is that what this is?â
Still, he said nothing. His head remained bowed, his gaze avoiding hers, his silence a shield he refused to lower.
Rage flared in Lindaâs chest, burning away the last remnants of her restraint.
She reached out abruptly, her fingers gripping his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.
âLook at me!â she demanded, her voice trembling with emotion.
ð¢ð¶ðð ðð ð»ððð ðððð â ð°aâ³â§«ðð⧫νðð â§«ð⧫⠽⧫ðâ§«ð
âAnswer me, damn it! Nod or shake your head! Is it really that hard?â
Ernestâs thick brows knit together, his lips pressed into a firm line. His eyes held somethingâan emotion she couldnât decipher, something locked away beneath layers of unreadable restraint.
And yet, in that unbearable silence, she knew. It was true.
But when? How?
He had been in a coma for yearsâit couldnât 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.
âErnest!â Lindaâs voice trembled with fury, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.
âIs this what I deserve?â she choked out, her voice raw with emotion. âDid you ever even think about me when you were with her?â
Ernest sat motionless, his gaze locked on the floor, silent as ever, but his breathing faltered.
âWho is she? Who IS she, Ernest?â Linda demanded, her voice rising like a whip crack.
âAnswer me! Stop pretending you donât know what Iâm talking about!â Her voice broke with desperation. âYou sent Quentin to track her down, but you canât even say her name?â
âOh noâ¦â Nyla rushed in, eyes wide with alarm. She reached for Linda, prying her away from Ernest with firm but gentle hands.
âLinda, stop! Heâs still recovering!â
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