My Bratty Wife Novel Chapter 70 - Seventy

Chapter 70: Chapter Seventy

Ryan retreated to his study, the clamor of the ballroom a distant echo. The dance with Suzy had left him unsettled, a strange pull towards her that he couldn’t explain. He needed solitude, ti to process the whirlwind of emotions that had consud him.

As he sat down on his chair, he rubbed his temple. His head throbbed with a mixture of exhaustion and a strange sense of unease. He needed a mont of peace, a chance to collect his thoughts.

As he tried to collect his thoughts, the door creaked open, revealing an unexpected visitor. A woman stood in the doorway, her presence as imposing as the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. She was tall and slender, with long, straight black hair that cascaded down her back. Her red dress was a bold contrast to the subdued tones of the room, and her eyes held a predatory glint.

"Duchess," he began, his voice laced with surprise, but the words died on his lips as he took in her appearance.

"Eleanor," Ryan greeted her, his voice flat.

The woman, Eleanor, stepped into the room, her movents fluid and confident. She closed the door behind her and sauntered towards Ryan, a predatory smile playing on her lips. "Long ti no see. How are you my love," she purred, her voice laced with a seductive undertone.

Ryan’s face hardened. "Eleanor," he repeated, his voice colder this ti. His eyes, filled with a mixture of disgust and contempt, held her captive.

Unfazed by his icy deanor, Eleanor continued her advance, her steps slow and deliberate. She reached the table near the window and sat down, her long legs crossed at the ankle. Her eyes, filled with a possessive glint, never left Ryan’s face.

Ryan watched her with a mixture of anger and resignation. He knew the ga she was playing, the seductive dance she was so adept at. But he refused to be drawn in. He had seen through her facade long ago, and his heart was elsewhere.

"I didn’t expect you to greet

with open arms," she began, her voice laced with a bitter sweetness, "or be happy to see

after all this ti. But a simple ’hello’ or ’how are you’ wouldn’t have killed you, my love."

Ryan’s face hardened. His disdain for her was palpable. "Your greetings are as unwelco as your presence," he replied coldly. "And I am doing perfectly well, thank you."

Eleanor laughed, a brittle sound that grated on Ryan’s nerves. "Oh, co now, Ryan," she purred. "You know you missed ."

Ryan’s eyes flashed with anger. "I missed nothing," he retorted, his voice low and dangerous.

Eleanor leaned forward, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice dripping with a sexual energy. "Or is there sothing else you miss?"

Ryan felt a surge of anger. He had no intention of engaging in this verbal sparring match. "Eleanor," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Eleanor shrugged, feigning indifference. "Suit yourself," she said, her eyes glinting with a challenge. "But I missed you, Ryan. Terribly."

Ryan’s silence was a clear indication of his feelings. His disdain for her was palpable, a thick wall of ice between them.

Ryan, his patience wearing thin, finally broke the silence.

"How dare you co here," he spat out, his voice low and dangerous.

Eleanor, unfazed by his anger, tilted her head to the side, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "Now, now, darling," she cooed, "no need to be so dramatic. Did you not read my last letter? The ’E’ initial? I told you I would be back in the kingdom soon and that we would see each other."

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. He rembered the letter, a letter delivered together with His Majesty’s letter and both were delivered by Davis. But he hadn’t given it much thought, dismissing it as a desperate attempt to regain his attention. Now, the implications of her presence were becoming clear. She hadn’t just returned; she had co to reclaim him.

"I don’t care about your letters," he spat out, his voice filled with contempt. "What you’re doing now is unacceptable."

Silence fell again, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Eleanor, sensing his turmoil, leaned forward, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "I think you misunderstood ," she purred, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness. "I want to explain..."

Ryan cut her off, his voice sharp and cold. "Misunderstood?" he echoed, his anger flaring. "What I witnessed with my own eyes? Spare

your lies, Eleanor. There’s nothing to explain."

" if you can’t think of a strong justification for what you did," he said coldly, " it’s better to stay quiet."

Eleanor’s smile faltered for a mont, but she quickly regained her composure. "You’re being dramatic, Ryan," she said, her voice laced with a hint of annoyance.

Ryan stared at Eleanor with a mixture of disgust and confusion. How had she managed to infiltrate his ho? His castle was supposed to be impenetrable, yet here she was, sitting in his study, as if she belonged there.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Your na isn’t on the guest list."

Eleanor shrugged nonchalantly. "I have my ways," she replied, a smirk playing on her lips.

Ryan’s anger flared. "Leave," he ordered, his voice a low growl. "Leave now, before I have you thrown out."

Eleanor ignored his threat, her eyes glinting with amusent. "Now, now, darling," she cooed, "calm down. Miss Cassandra invited my father, and he asked

to attend on his behalf."

Ryan’s jaw clenched. He didn’t check the guest list throughly, and it didn’t occur to him that her father would send her as a representative. Her presence here added another layer of complexity to the already tangled web of intrigue surrounding him.

"You should leave," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "Now."

Eleanor sat comfortably on the table, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusent and defiance. "Oh, darling," she purred. "I’m not going anywhere."

Ryan’s patience was wearing thin. He was tempted to throw her out himself, but he knew it would cause a scene. He needed to find a way to remove her from his ho without creating a scandal.

Eleanor continued, her voice dripping with affected nonchalance, "I heard you were already married. I must admit, it was a shock to see you with another woman. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been the charming one."

A flicker of anger ignited in Ryan’s eyes. He had always been careful about his public image, the facade of the devoted husband. And now, here was Eleanor, toying with his carefully constructed persona.

"Your opinions are irrelevant," he spat out, his voice low and nacing.

Eleanor laughed, a tinkling sound that grated on Ryan’s nerves. "Oh, co now, darling," she purred, "I’m rely stating the obvious."

Eleanor ignored his threat, her gaze fixed on him. "You look good as a married man, Ryan," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I must say, the Duchess is quite a catch. Beautiful, intelligent, and I hear she’s quite the handful. A far cry from the delicate, porcelain obedient dolls you usually prefer."

She paused, her eyes scanning Ryan’s face. "Cassandra," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "she’s quite sothing, isn’t she? That erald dress... a perfect choice."

Ryan’s face turned ashen. He couldn’t believe her audacity. To speak of Suzy in such a manner, as if she were a re object to be appraised.

"Cassandra," Eleanor continued, ignoring Ryan’s growing fury, "is actually quite pretty. I must admit, I’m a bit worried for her. Those freckles, the dimples... she has a certain charm though, I’ll say I’m one of her fans rooting for his disfigured appearance. But then again, I feel sorry for her. I know this marriage is a fake, an arrangent to cover what happened years ago."

Ryan’s jaw clenched. He stood up from his seat and strode to the table Eleanor was sitting. "My marriage is none of your concern," he growled.

Eleanor rely smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusent. "Of course, darling, of course," she purred. " But I’m just stating the obvious. She fits the bill of a perfect facade for a loveless marriage. A trade for a past misdeed she knows nothing of."

"Even though I know this marriage is a sham," Eleanor continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy watching you two waltz together."

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. Eleanor was playing a dangerous ga, and he was starting to lose his patience.

He slamd his hands on the table, the wood groaning under the impact. The room seed to vibrate with the force of his anger.

"Enough!" he roared, his voice a thunderous command. "Whatever you have to say is none of my business and I don’t care!"

Eleanor, unfazed by his outburst, rely tilted her head to the side, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, darling, you need to cool off ," she purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy.

"Cool off?" Ryan scoffed, his anger simring. "You’re the one who invaded my privacy, who dared to show up uninvited, and now you have the audacity to sit here and play the victim."

Eleanor shrugged nonchalantly. "Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?" she replied, her voice laced with a hint of nace.

Ryan’s patience was wearing thin. He couldn’t allow this woman to manipulate him any longer. "Leave," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Leave now, before I throw you out and take the risk of causing a scandal for myself."

Eleanor’s smile faded, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. But she quickly regained her composure. "As you wish, darling," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But rember, I’m back."

With that, she got down from the table and sauntered towards the door, her movents slow and deliberate. As she reached the handle, she turned to face Ryan one last ti. "And by the way," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "I like your wife. She has spirit."

Then, without waiting for a response, she opened the door and disappeared into the hallway leading to the ball downstairs , leaving Ryan alone with his thoughts, a storm of confusion and anger raging within him. He sank into his chair, his head in his hands. He needed to focus, to find a way to protect Suzy from whatever storm Eleanor was brewing.