I Became the Billionaire's Fake Lover to Get My Revenge
Chapter 25: Forgive Me For Being Late

Chapter 25: Forgive Me For Being Late

Anna’s fingers tightened around the fork, her grip unsteady as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Her frantic thoughts spiraled at an alarming speed, each one colliding into the next in a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation.

No... it can’t be him. He’s not the only one who wears that cologne, right? I’m imagining things. That’s all. I must still be shaken from my encounter with Susanne.

She forced herself to take a slow, steady breath, trying to dispel the unease creeping through her veins. But the moment she exhaled, the scent hit her again—stronger, closer.

Her stomach clenched as realization struck.

Whoever wore that cologne had just taken a seat at the table next to hers.

"Why did you ask me out here for lunch? This place is way too far from my office." The deep, unmistakable voice made her entire body go rigid.

There was no doubt now.

Robert Hyde.

Her ex-husband.

The blood in her veins turned to ice.

"You know very well why," another voice responded, smooth yet firm.

Anna’s breath caught in her throat. She recognized that voice, too.

Eric Turner.

Eric is back? A fresh wave of shock crashed over her. I thought he was still in Argentina...

Eric Turner was a highly successful architect who owned a major construction company. He spent much of his time traveling abroad, personally overseeing high-profile building projects. As far as she knew, he was supposed to be away on business until next year.

And yet, here he was.

Eric had always been different from Robert’s other acquaintances. Where Robert’s world was filled with cold ambition and ruthless business dealings, Eric had been the rare exception—one of the few people in Robert’s circle who had treated Anna with genuine kindness.

But what was he doing here now?

And, more importantly, what did he want with Robert?

She had missed Eric more than she cared to admit when he left for Argentina. She certainly hadn’t expected him to return so soon—let alone cross paths with him in this very restaurant.

Fate really enjoys playing games with me, doesn’t it?The moment I step outside, I run into all of them at once.

"How would I know?" Robert’s voice carried an edge of indifference, drawing Anna’s attention again. She instinctively sharpened her focus, straining to catch every word. "I didn’t even know you were back in the country."

"I had no choice but to come back," Eric snapped, his voice turning noticeably colder. "Did I really have to learn about Anna’s funeral from the damn newspapers? Some friend you are."

The sheer anger in his tone sent a strange warmth through Anna’s chest. It was foolish, but for the first time in a long while, she felt... defended. At least someone had been enraged on her behalf.

"If you read the news, then you know the funeral was abrupt and private," Robert replied, frowning as he signaled for the waiter. "We didn’t exactly send out invitations."

"And why the hell wasn’t I invited?" Eric shot back, his irritation cutting through the air like a knife. "I was her friend. Since she barely had any family, I had every right to be there."

The frown between Robert’s brows deepened. "Why are you getting so worked up about this? You saw what the media said—she brought nothing but trouble to my family. She hardly deserves your sympathy."

Anna’s breath hitched as she clenched her fists beneath the table. The sheer audacity of him. Even now that she was "dead", Robert Hyde had the gall to tarnish her name.

And in front of Eric, no less—one of the few people who had truly known her.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of her skirt as a bitter thought curled in her mind.

Even in death, he refuses to let me rest.

"What?" Eric’s brows shot up in disbelief. "How can you even say something like that?"

His voice was laced with genuine revulsion, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Anna felt a flicker of vindication. At least someone had the courage to call Robert out.

"What do you want from me?" Robert snapped, irritation creeping into his voice. "My parents are pressuring me to have a child. You know she couldn’t get pregnant. Besides, I was getting tired of that unbearable gloom she carried around all the time. She was on the verge of becoming a damn alcoholic!"

Anna’s grip tightened around the fabric of her skirt beneath the table. A part of her had expected this—Robert had always been cruel when it came to her, twisting the truth until even the worst of his actions seemed justified.

Still, hearing him speak about her with such cold detachment, as if she had been nothing more than an inconvenience, sent a fresh wave of disappointment crashing over her.

Yes, she understood now. She had been flawed—a woman trapped in a life that had slowly drained the light out of her. But wasn’t that their doing? Was that truly a sin worthy of killing her for?

"Did you at least bury her with her family?" Eric’s voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp, unforgiving. "Where is her grave?"

Robert barely blinked. "She was cremated." His voice was devoid of any emotion, as if he were discussing the disposal of an old piece of furniture. "We left the ashes at the crematorium. They handled the rest."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.

Then—

"Are you out of your mind?!" Eric’s voice rose, loud enough to turn heads from nearby tables. "How could you disrespect her like that? She was your wife! Your friend!"

A loud, shattering noise suddenly echoed through the restaurant, silencing the growing murmurs of curious onlookers.

Every head turned toward the source of the commotion.

Anna didn’t need to see. She already knew.

Her hands were still trembling over the remnants of the glass she had just crushed between her fingers.

Anna shot to her feet, gripping the edges of the round table as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths, the world around her tilting as she struggled to steady herself.

She couldn’t listen anymore. It was too much. Appalling. No—heartbreaking.

A choked gasp escaped her lips as she pressed a trembling hand against her neck, her fingers fumbling to loosen the scarf tied securely around her throat. Beads of cold sweat gathered on her forehead, trickling down her temples, but she barely registered them.

I can’t breathe. I can’t do this.

"Miss, are you alright?" A waiter rushed to her side, his hand hesitantly resting on her back. "You’re looking pale—do you need me to call an ambulance?"

"Step aside."

Eric’s voice cut through the haze of her panic, firm but calm. He was next to her now, brushing the waiter away as he assessed her with sharp, concerned eyes. "She’s having a panic attack. Miss, let me help you. I just need to loosen the scarf a little—"

The moment his fingers grazed her skin, Anna jerked back violently, nearly knocking over the table. No. Even though her face was different, even though she was unrecognizable to them, she couldn’t risk it—not when he was here. Not when her ex-husband’s eyes were watching her through the crowd.

"Miss, it’s alright," Eric reassured her. "I’m only trying to help."

He stepped closer, and the panic surged again. She stumbled back, her mind blurring at the edges—her fall was inevitable.

But before she hit the ground, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against a firm chest. A second hand, warm and sure, slid beneath her headscarf, expertly loosening its grip around her neck.

"I’m sorry, dear," a familiar, soothing voice murmured near her ear. "Forgive me for being so late."