Billionaire's Match

Chapter 37 Angela's heart ached, and anger rose sharp in her chest. Her eyes reddened, and before she could stop herself, tears spilled over. She shot Trey a fierce look, gathered Pete in her arms, and turned away without a word. "Angela-" he called after her desperately. But after taking only a few steps, he stopped. He couldn't bring himself to follow. The frustration in him coiled into something darker. He turned instead toward the house staff, his voice suddenly cold. "When did Khloe move out? Why was I not informed?" The servants stood trembling, heads bowed.

One finally stammered out the truth. Khloe had packed up her things several days ago. She'd instructed them not to bother Trey, saying he was busy and shouldn't be disturbed over trivial matters. Several days ago? Trey's stomach sank. That was right after Angela had moved in. So Khloe had left because of that. She was angry after all. Upstairs, Angela held her crying son close, tears still streaking her own face. She had sobbed for nearly an hour, waiting for Trey to come-he never did. "Mom," Pete sniffled, his small hands clutching at her sleeve. "Does Dad not want us anymore?

a woman he used for business. And yet, again and again, he lost control because of her. Maybe... maybe he really had feelings for Khloe. "But Daddy was so scary," Pete whispered, his lips trembling. The memory of that slap still burned on his

was soft but cold at the edges. As long as she was here, Khloe would never replace her-or her son. When Pete finally fell asleep, Angela wiped her tears, smoothed her hair, and went to Trey's study. He sat alone at his desk. His study was heavy with silence. When he saw her, his lips twitched faintly, but his expression stayed distant. "I'm sorry," he said after a long pause. "I shouldn't have hit Pete. I lost control. I'm

She came closer and gently took his hand in both of hers. Her voice was calm, warm, flowing like water that softened every sharp edge. Trey looked up, startled. Her face held no reproach-only sympathy and tenderness. "Angela, you're not angry with me?" His voice was hoarse, uncertain. He really had lost