Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 472

Isabel texted: Tomorrow’s the AI International Competition. Do you think you’ll make it back?

Emmy frowned, her thumb hovering over her phone.

Isabel had been checking in every day lately. On the surface it sounded caring, but the constant messages felt more like she was fishing for information than actually worried about her.

Emmy typed back: Depends.

Isabel’s reply came right away: Want me to prep anything? I’m worried you won’t make it back in time.

Emmy’s gaze cooled. After a short pause, she decided to cut this off for good.

No need. I probably won’t make it. Don’t bother taking time off to come watch me compete.

A stream of shocked emojis appeared.

You’re really hurt that badly? Missing a competition this big would be such a waste! You’ve been working toward this for so long.

Emmy gave a small, indifferent smile.

It’s fine. A truly successful system doesn’t need a stage to prove itself.

Alright then. Rest up and keep in touch.

Emmy locked her phone and set it aside, not bothering to reply.

Just then, the hospital room door burst open. Brett rushed in, sweaty and out of breath.

“I asked around,” he panted. “No word from James or anyone else at the base. They probably won’t make it back today. Want me to take you back to the Capital so you’re ready for tomorrow?”

Emmy shook her head, her voice steady.

“I’m staying here.”

She’d promised James she’d wait for him at the hospital.

And honestly, the closer it got to the competition, the more she felt the danger closing in. Last time was a harsh lesson—if she hadn’t brought her security team, she would’ve been kidnapped.

This time, James had told her to stay put, and she was determined to listen. She wouldn’t make things harder for him, or give anyone else a chance to get to her.

All she could do now was wait—wait for James and all his brothers to come home safe and sound.

—

Meanwhile, back in the Capital.

In a stylish tea room, Isabel slipped her phone back into her purse and looked at the woman across from her. “She’s definitely not making it back for the AI International Competition.”

The woman wore a perfectly tailored embroidered dress, her eyes sharp and calculating, her beauty shaped by experience and ambition.

It was Claudia.

She couldn’t get into the military hospital herself, so she’d started reaching out to Emmy’s friends.

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