My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan)
Open Billionaire 53

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CHAPTER 053: The Lady Of The House

CHAPTER 053: The Lady Of The House

I'm replaceing it difficult to process what Grant just said.

I stare at him, unsure if I heard him right. "She... she took the hard drives?"

He nods, scratching his chin. "Took them out, said she needed them for 'safe-keeping, and then told me to shut off the cameras in the house whenever anyone's at home. Until further notice, she said. So I did. You weren't around. So I figured she was the lady of the house."

I scoff, more to myself than to Grant, "She thinks she's queen of everything she lays eyes on, yes. But she's not the lady of the house, Grant. Not anymore." My mind races, the implications of this news unfolding.

"Well," Grant says, "either way, she took them. All the hard drives."

"Did she say where she was taking them?" "Nope."

I let out a humorless laugh, unable to believe her audacity. Of course she took them-she's always a few steps ahead, making sure there's no proof of whatever stunt she's planning to pull next. That woman is like a specter, lurking, quietly positioning herself in the shadows until she can make her next move.

"Did she seem... off to you?" I press, watching his face carefully.

Grant shrugs. "I mean, she's always a little intense, but yeah. She was... different. A bit, uh, urgent, I'd say. Like she was running out of time."

"Sounds like her," I mutter. "So, just to confirm, you're certain she took them out of the house?"

"Absolutely." He frowns. "Sorry, ma'am, I thought it was all proper since she was so insistent."

"It's fine, Grant," I say.

I take a deep breath, trying to process what this means. Adeline wouldn't just take the footage without reason. She's probably setting them on fire as we speak. Or maybe she won't. Maybe she's just holding onto them until all this is over. If that's the case, it must be somewhere. The question is, where?

"Thank you, Grant," I say, giving him a tight smile. "Do me a favor-if she comes back, let me know. In fact, if Ryan or anyone else tries to access the gate, let me know." Grant's eyebrows rise again, and he nods. "Sure thing, ma'am. Anything else I can help with?"

I glance around the dimly lit control room, my eyes lingering on the banks of blank screens that used to display every angle of the house, every entry point, every hallway.

"Just one last thing," I say. "Turn the cameras back on.

He nods. "You got it, ma'am."

As I walk back toward the house, my mind is racing. She wants to start a war? That's great. I'll give her

one.

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CHAPTER 053: The Lady Of The House

I pull into Paragon Jewels hours later and sit in my car staring at the glass tower rising above me. This building has been the backdrop to so many of my long days and late nights-deals closed, partnerships formed, countless events that were supposed to mean something. Now, it just feels cold. It's almost funny how quickly things can change.

Taking a deep breath, I reach over to the passenger seat and grab the cream-colored envelope containing my resignation letter. Just holding it makes me feel lighter, almost as if the letter itself holds the weight of all my frustration and bitterness. This is it. The end of my time here, the end of everything I'd tried to build with Ryan. I walk through the revolving doors, my heels clicking on the polished marble floors, and I see Karen, the receptionist, look up. Her mouth falls open, and she stares at me as if I'm a ghost. I keep my face calm, giving her a polite smile.

"Mrs. O'Brien... oh, wow! I mean, hi!"

"Hi," I say, trying not to laugh at her expression.

She shifts uncomfortably, looking down at her keyboard, unsure of what to say. "Mr. O'Brien didn't... uh, I mean, I didn't know you'd be coming in today. He didn't mention anything."

"Oh, I doubt he did." I keep my voice breezy, enjoying the uncomfortable silence stretching between us. She's struggling to decide if she should page Ryan, but I don't give her the chance.

I press the elevator button and step inside before she can finish her awkward mumbling. The doors close with a soft whoosh, and I'm left alone, staring at the panel of buttons. I hit the button for Ryan's floor, feeling that familiar blend of nerves and anger coiling in my stomach. But as the elevator begins to rise, a thought strikes me. I realize there's something I need to do first.

Without a second thought, I press the button for the service floor.

The elevator jolts slightly, and I feel a surge of energy, like a tiny electric current crackling through me.

The service floor, tucked away at the bottom of the building, is quiet and dimly lit, its corridors dense with a slightly stale scent of industrial carpet and cleaning supplies. People don't usually come down here-it's mostly maintenance, storage, and a few security offices. But there's one room in particular I'm interested in.

As I make my way through the narrow hallways, I pass a row of utility closets and nondescript office doors before spotting the sign: Surveillance Room. I try to push the door open, but it doesn't budge. Of course, only certain employees with level-one clearance can access security rooms.

Tpull out my old ID card from my bag, fingers crossed that the chip hasn't been deactivated. One last favor, universe, I think as I point it at the reader. The little light blinks green, and the lock clicks open. Bingo.

The door swings open, and the noise that greets me is deafening.

I hadn't expected the place to be soundproofed, but now it makes sense, given the racket inside. I clap my hands over my ears, momentarily disoriented by the bass-heavy music pouring out from some corner of the room. After a second, I drop my hands and listen carefully, trying to make sense of the muffled sounds beyond the thumping beat.

2/3

CHAPTER 053: The Lady Of The Mouse

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And then I hear something else-a muffled moan. My breath catches, and I take a step back, but curiosity pulls me forward. I tiptoe toward the source of the sound, edging along the wall.

As I approach the doorway, the noise level increases, and I can now make out some of the things the lady is saying.

"Oh, yes, harder!"

"Deeper!"

""Yes, right there!"

"God, don't stop!"

""More!"

"Give it to me, baby!"

I peer through the open doorway.

The man is thrusting hard, his movements fast and passionate.

There, on a table cluttered with papers, a familiar figure is sprawled, her legs wrapped around the strange man's shoulders.

Emily.