Her Toyboy Heir My Ruthless Ruin Chapter 2

I pushed her away, the air in the room feeling too thin to breathe. "Madeline, do you even hear yourself? Doesn't this feel... disgusting to you?"

Her expression hardened. "Lucas, I’ve always admired your grace. I thought you’d be the one person who understood the bigger picture. This is about the future of the company. Why are you being so petty?"

"Petty?"

"With a child, we’ll have someone to take care of us when we're old," she continued, her tone maddeningly reasonable. "The boy will be raised as yours. He’ll respect you as his father. Why can't you look past your ego and see the long-term benefit?"

I started to laugh, a jagged, hysterical sound. "Oh, so I should thank you? Thank you for getting me a 'son'? Should I send Dante a thank-you note for the hard work he put into sleeping with my wife?"

Madeline went silent, her gaze dark and unreadable.

After a long moment, I forced the words out through a raw throat. "What if I refuse? Will you choose me? Will you terminate the pregnancy for me?"

"Lucas... I know this is a lot to process. It’s okay. I’ll give you time to think it over." She stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Dante needs an internship anyway. I’m taking him to New York for a few weeks to scout the new market and let him visit his family."

Without another word, she walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun was blinding. The bedroom door was wide open. Madeline was gone.

I checked my phone. Dante had posted a photo on his Instagram stories. Taking the new bride to meet the parents.

It was a picture of two hands clasored together on a first-class flight. He deleted it ten minutes later, but the damage was done.

I went to the bathroom, washed the grime of the previous night off my face, and drove to the office.

The staff looked at me with a mixture of pity and surprise. Mrs. Gable, the office manager who had been there since the beginning, caught my hand.

"Lucas, it’s about time you showed up. Things are... different around here lately."

I was about to ask what she meant when I saw the executive suite. It had been renovated. Previously, Madeline and I had separate offices with a private lounge between them. Now, a third room had been built, adjoined directly to hers.

"What’s this?" I asked, gesturing to the new door.

Mrs. Gable looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Lucas, I don't know how to say this... but you can't just let her run everything because of your health. You need to be here more."

A cold dread pooled in my stomach. "Mrs. Gable, get someone to open this door."

She hesitated. "Mr. Matthew... Madeline gave strict orders. No one enters that room. Just... let it go for today. Come back tomorrow."

I didn't listen. I grabbed a heavy mahogany chair from the waiting area. Before anyone could stop me, I swung it with every ounce of rage I had left. My arms went numb with the impact, but I didn't stop until the lock splintered and the door flew open.

I froze on the threshold.

It wasn't an office. It was a bedroom. An ivory silk bed, a red-wood screen, a vanity—everything.

And on the nightstand was a framed photo of Madeline and Dante. They were glowing. Dante was leaning over her, his arms wrapped around her waist, and Madeline was looking back at him with a laugh so genuine I hadn't seen it in a decade.

There was another photo of them in a hot tub, wearing almost nothing. Dante was holding her high against his chest, their faces pressed together. They looked... happy. They looked like a couple in the honeymoon phase of a grand romance.

She had moved him in. Right under my nose. In the very building my inheritance had saved.

I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking so hard I nearly dropped it. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to ask her how she could do this.

I called her ten times. Straight to voicemail.

Then, a notification popped up. A trending topic on a local entertainment site: Spotted in Paris: International Romance.

The photo showed a tall, athletic man and a petite woman locked in a passionate kiss under the Eiffel Tower. The caption praised their "cross-cultural, race-transcending love."

Madeline had even given a quote for the piece: "True love knows no borders or race. It is a matter of the soul."

Dante was pictured with his arm around her, looking at the camera like he’d won the lottery.