Billionaire’s Ex-wife : Craving You

Chapter 70

Chapter 70 HAZEL FOUR YEARS AGO. Happy New Year! Organizing a wedding in just a month’s time has proven to be an incredibly demanding endeavor. Navigating through a myriad of tasks with our wedding planner has left me feeling not just physically fatigued, but men tally drained beyond measure. As the countdown to the wedding enters the mere three-week mark, I find myself on the cusp of my final wedding dress fitting, a moment that seems surreal and fleeting. Curiously, it appears that Ravel, my partner in this grand affair, maintains an almost serene disposition in contrast to the whirlwind of stress that engulfs me. The lion’s share of responsibilities seems to have found a home on my shoulders, extending from the meticulous cake tasting to the selection of napkin colors. In this whirlpool of arrangements, I am eternally grateful for the presence of Elenor, whose kindness and assistance have been nothing short of a saving grace. Without her, I dare not contemplate how I might have navigated these overwhelming tasks. Dedicating her entire January by rearranging her schedule, she stood by my side unfailingly, accompanying me to every corner and stepping in where my presence was impossible to spare. I don’t lay any blame on Ravel for his absence during these moments, as his attention has been utterly consumed by his work and Kelvin, his seemingly enigmatic concern. The topic of Kelvin rarely finds its way into our conversations, a subject Ravel treats with an air of deliberate detachment, urging me consistently to dismiss any worries concerning that particular individual. It was only on one occasion that Ravel opened up about Kelvin, seeking from me every morsel of information within my grasp, down to the intricate details of his social circle. This I provided without hesitation, driven by an unwavering desire to contribute in any manner possible. Merely a week remains until the deadline Kelvin set for me to produce the money. His latest text serves as both a reminder and a menacing threat, making it unequivocally clear that no extension will be

granted under any circumstances. Admittedly, the prospect of those compromising photos being exposed to the world is an unnerving one. Yet, despite this fear, I am resolved to place my trust in Ravel and his ability to navigate the situation.

Balancing the bag containing the facial products recommended by my makeup artist for achieving that perfect bridal glow, I clutch my phone firmly in the other hand. In the midst of this, I engage in a conversation with Elenor, deliberating over the choice of bouquet. “We’ve settled on artificial flowers,” I reiterate to Elenor, a decisive note in my voice. Our choice stems from the genuine desire to prevent any chance of my soon-to-be husband experiencing an allergic reaction on our special day. “Eyéry detail, right down to my bouquet, will feature artificial blooms. Not a single real flower will grace our presence, ensuring a day devoid of any potential mishaps for both myself and Ravel.” “Absolutely, the florist is already aware,” Elenor reassured me. “Daisies, right?” “Yes, daisies,” I affirmed, knowing that Ravel’s flower allergies had made him indifferent to floral preferences. With no particular fondness for any flower, I had chosen daisies as our floral motif. As we continued discussing the arrangements, I directed Elenor’s attention to a different matter. “Don’t forget to check on your bridesmaid dress before you leave the vicinity. We need to ensure the adjustments have been rectified.” Elenor nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’ve got it covered. I’m heading to the dress shop right after this florist meeting.” The topic then took a slightly different turn as frustration crept into Elenor’s voice. “Why on earth isn’t my brother pitching in more?” she exclaimed. “If I can put my work on hold for a whole month due to the wedding, he should be capable of doing the same.” Neither Elenor nor Anne were informed about Kelvin’s blackmail and the associated chaos, which explained their lack of awareness regarding Ravel’s current preoccupations. the issue of Kelvin directly affect Ravel’s financial commitments. “He needs to continue working in order to manage the ongoing debit alerts.” Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

Elenor’s response was marked by a dismissive scoff. “Believe me, even if Ravel chose to marry you every week without lifting Chapter 70 another finger, the wealth of ‘Bluey’ is substantial enough to sustain your children, their children, and generations to come.” As the elevator arrived at its destination, I stepped out and proceeded toward the entrance, where Adam struggled with a shopping bag. A pang of sympathy surged within me, even though I had offered to help and been met with a polite refusal. “Leave my fiancé be, Elenor,” I chimed in with a light-hearted tone. “I’d rather spare him from undue stress right before the wedding.” Elenor’s laughter bubbled forth. “The stress you’re putting yourself through might just gift you some pre-wedding pimples, you know.” My attention shifted involuntarily to the bag I carried, a silent acknowledgment of her prediction. “I’ve got a remedy prepared for that,” I admitted. I opened the door and entered the living room, only to come to a sudden stop as my gaze fell upon the unexpected scene that lay before me. The room seemed to freeze as my eyes darted back and forth between the men present. “I’ll get back to you, Elenor,” I managed to say, my voice carrying a mix of disbelief and tension. “Make sure you do. Your insights on the dress are still needed. And don’t forget about your appointment tomorrow. Love you, girl!” “Love you too, Elenor. Take care.” The call ended, and I slowly returned my phone to my purse, all the while keeping my gaze locked onto Ravel, my heart racing with a blend of emotions. A smug smile curved across his lips as he spoke, exuding an air of arrogance. “You wrapped things up quite swiftly today,” he remarked, his hands extending with a gesture that beckoned me closer. Setting the bag down on an ornate table, I complied and made my way over to him, almost settling onto the sofa before his grip pulled me onto his thigh instead. “Did you manage to gather all you required?” he inquired, his voice carrying a nonchalant tone. Suppressing my inner turmoil, I managed to respond, keeping my composure intact. “Yes, I obtained

everything I needed,” I confirmed. My gaze shifted to the presence of the unexpected visitor in the room. “But why is Kelvin here?” I questioned, my words loaded with a mix of curiosity and concern. “We’re currently discussing his potential jail time and how he might cooperate to secure a lesser sentence, all while maintaining his silence to avoid a more severe punishment,” Ravel explained matter-of-factly. My confusion still lingered, and my grip on Ravel involuntarily tightened. “Wait, did you bring him here to pay him off?” I asked, my words laced with uncertainty. Ravel’s chuckle filled the air. “I invited him here to extend one final opportunity before executing my plan,” he clarified. His gaze shifted beyond me, directed at Kelvin. “His friends have already agreed to testify in court, pinning the blame on him in order to safeguard themselves. They’re prepared to affirm that you were coerced by him in those incriminating photos to take those drugs.” Ravel’s grin broadened. “Blackmail might just be the least of his worries leading to his jail time.”