Game of Love and Deception: The Billionaire's Ex Wife
Chapter 94: Not for her

Chapter 94: Not for her

Ashley knelt on the living room floor, surrounded by toys and bursts of laughter. Little Vanessa toddled toward her, curly red hair bouncing with each unsteady step.

Her bright eyes sparkled as she babbled excitedly, "Mommy, mommy!" and held out one of her toys.

Instead of taking it, Ashley scooped her up and twirled her around. "My little angel!"

Vanessa giggled uncontrollably, flailing her chubby arms and legs. Her gibberish and laughter filled the air, making Ashley laugh along with her. She pressed kisses to her neck and nose, and the little girl squirmed in her hold.

In the middle of the sweet chaos, her phone started ringing, pulling half her attention away. She set Vanessa down to answer it.

The toddler seized the opportunity to take off, still giggling as she ran toward the door and out into the compound.

"Vanessa! Wait for mommy!" Ashley shouted, rushing after her, not caring that she was still on the call.

She burst through the door, eyes darting across the yard in a panic—but her daughter was nowhere in sight.

"Nessa!" she called, fear creeping into her chest.

No response.

Ashley searched the compound—behind the swing set, the garden—every possible hiding spot. Still no sign of her.

Panic tightened her chest, her breath quickening. "Vanessa!" she screamed again, her voice echoing through the empty yard.

Suddenly, she jolted awake, trapped under the duvet. She thrashed until she flung it off, gasping for air. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, disoriented.

It had been a dream. But the panic still clung to her chest.

Where was she?

After a moment, she remembered—Lorenzo’s house. His bedroom. But the sound of Vanessa’s giggles still echoed in her head, stirring a hollow ache in her chest.

She sat up, heart still racing, tears stinging her eyes. She wiped them away quickly, frustrated by how easily they came these days.

Pushing the duvet aside, she got out of bed and looked around.

Lorenzo was nowhere in sight.

She was surprised by how easily she had drifted off. The moment her body touched his bed, she was gone—even with her sleeping pills, it had been hard at home.

Something about his place felt different. She’d noticed it the first time but had thought it was the sex. The bed? Or just the idea of him being around? She couldn’t put her finger on it.

Her gaze shifted to the balcony connected to the bedroom. She stepped outside, letting the evening breeze brush against her skin. It didn’t soothe the unease rising inside her.

She scanned the sitting area, but Lorenzo wasn’t there. A shiver ran down her spine.

What if he was gone?

What if he’d left again?

She pushed the thought away and drew in a deep breath. He was probably just downstairs. Maybe he’d stepped out to do something.

She nodded to herself. Yes.

That had to be it.

What was wrong with her, anyway? What did she get scared everytime she doesn’t see him? This was his home, for goodness’ sake.

With her nerves finally calm, she returned inside the room. Alone in the wide, quiet space—and still sticky with the sweat she’d woken up in—she decided to take a quick bath before leaving.

Pulling off Lorenzo’s shirt, she gave in to the urge to savor his scent one last time. She brought the fabric to her nose, inhaled deeply, eyes closed, soaking in that warm, masculine spice.

For one foolish second, she nearly stuffed it into her handbag—just to take a piece of him home. But she shook off the temptation.

Just as she tossed the shirt aside, the door swung open, and Lorenzo burst in. Their eyes collided in mutual shock, and for a moment, time froze.

Ashley stood there, exposed, vulnerable, caught in pure stupefaction.

The moment her brain resumed function, her hands flew up to cover her chest. Thankfully, her palm landed on her bra. She sighed silently in relief—she’d forgotten she was still wearing one.

Lorenzo’s gaze stayed locked on her, his expression unreadable, but intense enough to make her cheeks flush.

"I—I’m sorry, I thought you were still asleep," he finally stammered.

She ignored the apology, frantically grabbing her dress, heart pounding.

"If you were sorry, you’d have looked away by now," she snapped, regaining her voice.

Lorenzo turned around slowly, raising his hands in mock surrender, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. "I’m sorry about that," he said, amusement laced in his voice.

Ashley shook her head, exasperated. "What exactly are you sorry for?"

"I’m sorry... that I wasn’t a gentleman," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"And you’re forgetting I’ve seen all of you before."

Sure, he’d seen her naked—but that was when she was horny and not thinking straight. This felt... different.

"You’re such a jerk!"

"I agree," Lorenzo murmured, turning back around. A sheepish smile curved his lips. "But maybe I just like how pretty you are... especially when you’re trying to sound stern."

Ashley’s heart skipped several beats, even though it shouldn’t.

"And those eyes," he added softly, gaze locking onto hers, "they remind me a lot of the sea... and I love the sea, Ashley."

She was torn—caught somewhere between staying angry and smiling.

The intensity in his eyes, softened by a tender warmth... the way he said her name—it was different from the other time in the kitchen. Now it sounded so good she wanted to hear it again.

What was wrong with him?

No—what was wrong with her?

He was clearly teasing her, enjoying every second of it. And yet, the butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t calm down.

"Right now, I just want to punch that pretty face of yours," she said, trying to mask the thunder pounding in her chest. "But lucky you—I was just leaving."

Lorenzo’s playful expression faded, his features slowly hardening.

"My sister was attacked while you were sleeping," he said, voice low and serious. "And I strongly suspect Christian is behind it. I’m afraid it’s dangerous for you out there. Plus... we still need to talk. Remember?"

Ashley’s eyes widened in alarm.

"That bastard. Where’s Genevieve? Is she alright? Was it bad?"

"Not really. Security arrived before they could do any harm. But she was scared as hell when I got there."

Her brow furrowed.

"They? I don’t understand."

"A group of angry girls. They cornered her outside the fashion house where she had a shoot—something about her brother being a homewrecker."

A tired crease formed on Lorenzo’s forehead.

She instinctively wanted to reach out, to smooth it with her fingers. Maybe even hug him. But she held herself back.

Fashion house. Shoot.

She placed the pieces together—Genevieve was a model.

Of course.

The striking features, the vibrant energy—it made perfect sense.

The idea that Christian had orchestrad the attack made her blood boil.

He had to be truly deranged—to target an innocent girl just to get to her... or to Lorenzo.

"You should sue him for this," she said firmly.

Lorenzo removed his jacket, draping it neatly on a hanger. "To do that, I’ll need solid evidence tying him to the attack."

"What about the girls?" she asked. "They should be tracked down and arrested. I bet they’ll snitch and admit he was behind it."

"I went to check the CCTV footage," he said, his jaw tightening. "Strangely, there were none in the area. Either they never existed, or someone had them removed. The fashion house’s cameras recorded nothing too, and the only one outside the building was broken."

Ashley’s frown deepened.

"Well, that’s convenient."

Now his exhausted look made perfect sense—he’d been handling everything while she slept.

"I’m really sorry," she said quietly. "What do you plan to do next?" She rubbed her elbow, trying to calm the anger burning inside her.

Lorenzo didn’t answer right away. He pulled off his shirt, now wearing just a singlet and pants. Ashley’s eyes roamed over his broad shoulders and lean waist before she could stop herself. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

"Christian’s playing a dangerous game," he said darkly, unzipping his pants. "Coming after the people I care about was a mistake he shouldn’t have made. He needs something to keep his little pig brain busy for awhile. I’ll give him."

His voice was low and cold. It sent a chill through her.

"I want you to stay here with me," he added. "Just until I get him under control."

Under control? Her heart skipped. Did he mean to kill Christian? She wouldn’t feel anything if Christian was to die, but she worried about Lorenzo. She didn’t want him to get blood on his hands—not for her.

Then—without shame or hesitation—Lorenzo stepped out of his pants, standing there in just his briefs, as if she wasn’t right in front of him. Her earlier worries flew out of her head.

She tried to focus, but God—that body, that effortless dominance, every move felt like he was trying to seduce her without even trying.

He came closer.

"Can you do that, princess?"

It was a simple question. But the way he said it, the way his eyes pinned her—her cheeks flamed.

Get a grip, Ashley, she snap inwardly. You’re not sixteen anymore.

"I—I don’t know," she replied honestly. "I feel bad leaving the house again. But the security has doubled since the attack. I think I’ll be okay."

He was dangerously close now. The air between them thickened. Breathing became a chore.

Then he pulled her to him, one hand curving around her waist, the other tilting her chin until their eyes locked.

"Please, princess," he said gently. "Don’t say no."

He looked like he was trying hard not to kiss her.

She didn’t know why, but she decided to test him.

"Are you sure this is only about protecting me, hot stuff?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Because it seems... more than that."