The Paper Wife’s Empire novel Chapter 3

Ramona barely had time to react before a glass of juice was thrown right in her face.

At the commotion, the staff rushed over to help her clean up.-

“Milo!” Jotham’s face twisted in fury.

Milo, startled by his father's outburst, bolted up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.

Jotham was about to chase after him, but Brianna quickly stepped between them. “Jotham, he’s just a child. You can’t discipline him like that. Let me talk to him.”

She glanced at Ramona, who was wiping herself off, as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

Only then did Jotham turn his attention back to Ramona.

“Are you alright? Let me see.”

Ramona had already cleaned herself up, but Jotham still reached out, wanting to touch her face to check for any lingering mess.

“Don’t. I’m dirty—don’t touch me!” she blurted out.

Jotham clearly misunderstood. “Why would I care about that? I just don’t want you to be hurt.”

“If I’d known Milo would be so out of control, I never would’ve let you take care of him yourself.”

Ramona’s lips curled into a mocking half-smile. “Right. If his real mother were still around, she’d surely do a better job than me. But she’s dead, and clearly I’m just the incompetent stepmom, right?”

Jotham stiffened, his face clouding over. “What are you saying? Milo is our adopted son. You’re the only mother he’s ever had.”

To soften the moment, he reached out and ruffled Ramona’s hair affectionately.

She hadn’t been expecting it and recoiled, feeling deeply uncomfortable.

Back in her room, Ramona immediately headed for the shower.

It wasn’t long before Jotham followed her. He was really there to discuss letting Brianna stay with them for a while.

But Ramona knew there was no real discussion. She never had a say in these things. They were the real couple; she was just the stand-in.

“Listen, the company’s about to go public. It’s a critical time. Milo needs someone here, and the company needs you as well. Ms. Prescott is an expert in child development, and you can see it—Milo listens to her…”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” Ramona cut him off, not wanting to hear another word. The more he talked, the sicker she felt.

“Ramona, I knew you’d be understanding. You always get me—you know how much I care about you.”

Jotham, satisfied the matter was settled, gazed at her with what he probably intended as tenderness and reached for her waist.

Ramona quickly turned away, grabbing her phone from the nightstand and holding it up for him to see.

On the screen was a photo of a beautiful riverfront villa, clearly located in the upscale financial district. That area was booming—prime real estate, even more valuable than their current home.

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