The Billionaire's Forgotten Wife
Chapter 49: Had she gotten married?

Chapter 49: Had she gotten married?

Zeke blinked. "A what?"

"A preschool. I was dropping off my nephew this morning, my sister asked me to help and I saw her. Cassidy."

Zeke gripped the phone tighter. "Are you sure it was her?"

"Positive. She was standing just outside the gate. Same eyes. Same walk. Hair’s a little longer now, but it was definitely her."

Zeke didn’t say anything.

Logan hesitated before continuing. "She wasn’t alone. She was with a little girl."

The silence on Zeke’s end stretched.

Logan added, voice gentler now, "I don’t know if it was hers. Could’ve been a niece, or someone else’s kid. But they looked close."

Zeke exhaled slowly, trying to steady his thoughts. "It could’ve been Georgia’s kid... or maybe her brother’s. She has a niece."

Logan paused. "Maybe. Could be."

There was a beat of silence before Logan added, "So... your ex-wife’s back in town?"

But Zeke didn’t answer. Instead, he ended the call with a sharp tap, leaving the line dead without another word.

On the other end, Logan stared at his phone, incredulous. "Seriously?" he muttered. "Guy doesn’t even say thanks. What a pain in the ass."

Zeke stood still for a beat, Logan’s voice still echoing in his mind. He returned inside Elise’s house just long enough to say his goodbyes, offering a quiet hug to his grandmother and nodding at a few relatives—before slipping out unnoticed.

Once inside his car, he sat in silence.

He gripped the steering wheel, but didn’t start the engine right away. Logan’s words echoed in his mind, refusing to fade.

Cassidy was at a preschool. With a little girl.

He frowned. A little girl? Whose child could that be? Georgia’s? Maybe her niece? He tried to reason with himself, but none of the possibilities felt quite right.

Had she gotten married?

The thought hit harder than he expected. Had Cassidy moved on? Found someone else, built a life, a family? Was that little girl hers... their child?

A dull throb bloomed at his temples, sudden and unwelcome. Zeke gritted his teeth, pressing his fingers against the side of his head. Of course. Just what he needed, pain to match the storm inside his chest.

Ever since the alcohol poisoning that landed him in a coma, Zeke’s body had been different. Too much stress, too much thinking and the dull throb would start, as if his brain was warning him to stop pushing.

But his mind wouldn’t let go.

Zeke pulled over on the quiet side road that curved through the countryside. The sun was starting to dip low, casting golden light over the fields and distant trees. Everything around him was still, too still for the storm turning in his chest.

He leaned forward and opened the glove compartment, fingers brushing against the worn carton inside. A half-empty pack of cigarettes.

He took one out and placed it between his lips. He didn’t light it. He never did.

He wasn’t a smoker. Not really. Not before the hospital. But ever since, this strange ritual had become something of a crutch. Holding the cigarette calmed his nerves. It gave his hands something to do when his mind wouldn’t stop racing.

Zeke leaned back in his seat, cigarette resting unlit on his mouth, staring out over the quiet countryside.

He exhaled hard and leaned back against the headrest. Slowly, he rubbed his temples as the first pangs of a headache began to creep in.

Zeke reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Without hesitation, he dialed Logan.

The call connected almost instantly.

"Well, well," Logan answered, clearly grinning. "Miss me already? We just talked ten minutes ago."

Zeke didn’t waste time. "Which preschool?"

There was a pause. "Downtown. That fancy one near the park. BrightMinds Academy."

Zeke hung up without another word.

Logan stared at his screen, scoffing. "You’re welcome, you ungrateful bastard."

***

It had been two weeks since Cassidy returned to America.

In that time, her mother’s condition had begun to show steady signs of improvement.

Dr. Julianne Johnson, the neurologist Sandro and Raymond had brought in, had gone through a thorough evaluation. She reviewed her mother’s MRI, CT scans, EEG results, and a series of additional tests. Calm and composed, with the gentle authority of someone who knew her field well, Dr. Johnson gave her assessment.

"From the imaging and the neurological responses," she explained, "it looks like your mother sustained a mild concussion. There’s no sign of permanent brain injury. With the progress she’s making, I believe she’ll regain consciousness soon."

Cassidy felt a weight lift off her chest. For the first time in a long while, her heart felt steady. Calm. Knowing her mother was slowly getting better gave her something she hadn’t dared to feel in months, relief.

Meanwhile, Claire was thriving.

She came home from preschool every day with stories about her new friends, Ava, who liked drawing unicorns, and Mateo, who always shared his snacks. She talked about their circle time, the songs they sang, the games they played in the yard.

Cassidy would listen, smiling, sometimes laughing, as Claire animatedly acted out her day.

It made her realize, maybe coming back to America wasn’t such a bad decision after all.

But that relief didn’t last long.

Cassidy was sitting comfortably in her apartment, a cup of hot tea cradled in her hands. For once, the silence felt like a luxury. Claire was still at preschool, and she had a rare moment of quiet all to herself.

Then her phone rang.

Seeing Lucie’s name on the screen, she answered with a light tone, not expecting anything serious.

"Lucie?"

There was a long pause on the other end. Then Lucie’s voice came through, tight, shaken.

"Cass... I didn’t want to call you like this. But you need to know, there’s been a fire. At the Cy. Noire warehouse. In Geneva."

Cassidy froze, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic mug.

"What?"

"It started late last night," Lucie continued, her voice cracking. "We still don’t know how. But... it spread fast. One of the staff, Pierre, he didn’t make it."

For a moment, the world went still. The words hung heavy in the air, pressing against Cassidy’s chest like a weight she couldn’t lift.

Her mind raced, through memories, possibilities, names, responsibilities.

And then, guilt.

Even an ocean away, she still felt it like a punch to the stomach.

Cassidy closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady her breath. Then, with a voice that was calm but carried the weight of emotion, she said:

"I’m flying there. I’ll book the earliest flight tomorrow. I need to be there, Lucie. I need to meet Pierre’s family in person."

Lucie hesitated. "Cass... you don’t have to—"

"I do," Cassidy gently cut in. "Pierre was loyal. He stood by us when Cy. Noire was still just a name. I have to say goodbye. I have to look his family in the eye and let them know how much he meant to us. And I’ll make sure they receive proper compensation."

Lucie let out a quiet sigh, a mixture of grief and relief. "I knew you’d say that."

Cassidy swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "Please hold everything together until I get there. I’ll handle the rest once I arrive."

"I will," Lucie replied softly. "And... thank you, Cass."

After ending the call with Lucie, Cassidy didn’t waste a second. She pulled her laptop onto the table, opened the airline website, and searched for the earliest flight to Geneva. There was one leaving the next morning at 8:45 a.m. Without hesitation, she booked it.

Then she picked up her phone and dialed Georgia.

The line rang once before Georgia picked up.

"Hey, Cass! Everything okay?"

Cassidy let out a slow breath. "Not really. There’s been a fire at the Cy. Noire warehouse in Geneva."

"What?" Georgia sounded alarmed. "Is everyone okay?"

"One of our staff, Pierre... he didn’t make it," Cassidy said quietly.

"Oh my God. Cass, I’m so sorry."

"Yeah," Cassidy murmured. "I just booked a flight. I need to be there, Georgia. I need to meet his family."

"Of course," Georgia replied gently. "What do you need from me?"

Cass closed her eyes briefly, grateful. "Claire. I need someone to watch her while I’m gone. Just for a few days. Can you...?"

"Absolutely," Georgia said without hesitation. "You don’t even have to ask. Bring her over tonight or tomorrow morning, whatever’s easier."

"Thank you," Cassidy said, her voice tight. "I’ll drop her off early tomorrow. Her bag’s already mostly packed."

"Don’t worry about a thing," Georgia said softly. "Just focus on getting through this, okay?"

Cassidy nodded even though Georgia couldn’t see her. "Thank you. Really."

"Anytime."

When the call ended, Cassidy sat there for a moment, staring at the flight confirmation on her screen. Tomorrow, she’d be back in Geneva. Not for work. Not for design. But for grief.

She glanced toward the preschool clock schedule she kept on the wall. She still had some time to pack before picking Claire up.

***

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