From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 10: The Apology That Wasn't

"Riley, where are you?"

Lucas' voice came through the phone, gentle as always. After a pause, guilt crept in. "I saw the video. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

Riley's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "At a friend's place."

"Which friend? I'll come get you." His concern was immediate.

"Don't bother." Her refusal was just as quick.

She softened her voice deliberately. "I was down by the river earlier. The wind was strong. Got a headache. Took something for it and I'm about to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow when I'm back."

She hung up before he could respond.

On the other end, Lucas stared at his phone, the dial tone humming in his ear. Something hollow opened in his chest.

His mind filled in the blanks on its own.

Riley loved him so much. Being misunderstood like that must have devastated her.

So much that she'd gone alone to the cold riverfront, let the wind cut through her. Probably cried for hours.

Guilt pressed down on him like a weight.

He didn't know that after hanging up, Riley stretched luxuriously, feeling lighter than she had in years, and spent half an hour soaking in a hotel bathtub.

When she got out, a message from Sebastian waited on her phone.

"Home yet?"

Riley raised an eyebrow and typed back, "Paid for the room. Why would I go home?"

No text reply came. Instead, a game invitation popped up.

She smiled and accepted.

The later levels were noticeably harder. But Riley kept pace with him easily, trading leads, covering each other's mistakes.

When they finally stopped, the screen read 2 AM.

Sebastian didn't send another invitation.

A moment later, two words appeared in the chat.

"Sleeping."

Riley set her phone down and closed her eyes.

The next morning, when Riley walked into Ashford Manor, exhaustion was written all over her face.

Lucas had been waiting there all night. The sight of her—weary, pale—sent another wave of guilt crashing through him.

"Riley." His voice was soft, apologetic. "I'm sorry. About the cake. I shouldn't have blamed you without knowing the truth."

"Mm." She nodded, her face unreadable.

Lucas glanced around the empty room. "Let's talk in the study."

He wanted privacy. Wanted to smooth things over quietly, contain the damage.

Riley didn't move. She pulled her hand back calmly.

"We'll talk here. Yesterday, when you all accused me without asking, none of you worried about embarrassing me in front of everyone."

Guilt flickered across his face. "Baby, it's my fault. Let me make it up to you. I'll transfer the westside penthouse to your name."

The westside penthouse. Market value—upward of hundred million. Enough to prove his sincerity.

Riley almost laughed.

After five years of free labor for the Ashford family and Ashford Group, he thought a single apartment would buy her silence.

"We'll see." She kept her face neutral, scanning the empty room. "Where are Sophia and Jeremy?"

Message received. She wasn't letting this go.

Lucas hesitated, then offered something bigger. "Next week. The Crestmore Auction. I'll take you. Whatever you want, I'll bid on it. Just—please. Don't be angry."

Before Riley could respond, footsteps echoed from the staircase.

Sophia descended, arm in arm with Anthea.

She'd heard everything.

Jealousy clawed at her insides. Lucas had stashed her in a cramped duplex in some forgotten suburb. But for Riley, he was offering a penthouse? And the Crestmore Auction—she'd hinted for weeks before he'd reluctantly agreed to take her.

All of this should have been hers. She was the real Mrs. Ashford. Not Riley.

Sophia swallowed the bitterness and shaped her face into a gentle smile. "Riley. You're back. Jeremy's fine now, don't worry. I know you worked hard on the luncheon. But next time, if something's bothering you, just tell me directly. Jeremy... He's just a child."

That one sentence lit the fuse.

Anthea's face flushed with anger. Yesterday, she'd wanted to tear into Riley herself. But the woman had actually run off.

Low-class behavior. No sense of responsibility at all.

"You!" Anthea jabbed a finger at Riley. "You do something wrong, show no remorse, storm out like a child—and now you come back and let Lucas buy you off with gifts? What kind of game are you playing?"

Her voice rose. "You will apologize to Sophia and Jeremy. Today. And not just an apology—you'll buy them gifts to make it right. That's what a proper wife of this family does."

"Gifts aren't necessary." Sophia bit her lip, the picture of restraint. "I wouldn't want Riley to spend money. But Jeremy did suffer all night. He just fell asleep. A sincere apology... that's only fair."

Riley listened to the performance, then turned to Lucas.

So he hadn't shown them the video.

That was why he was in such a hurry to offer compensation. He wanted to buy her silence, smooth everything over without anyone losing face.

"Lucas." Her voice was quiet. "You rushed me back here so I could keep playing the villain? So I could apologize to them?"

The words landed like a blade.

Guilt twisted his features. He shot Riley a look. "Mom. Sophia. That's enough. I'll take care of this."

Sophia's eyes welled instantly. She dropped her gaze, shoulders trembling.

"Lucas. I know you care about Riley. But Jeremy is so young. Having an adult treat him with malice—it's heartbreaking. He's at an age where he's learning right from wrong. We should show him what accountability looks like."

"Exactly." Anthea crossed her arms. "If she doesn't apologize today, don't blame me for bringing out the family rules."

She gestured. Servants stepped forward.

Riley watched the farce unfold, a cold smile curling inside her.

Sophia really was an actress. If she weren't the victim, she might have believed it herself.

She didn't raise her voice. Didn't argue. Just sighed softly.

"Lucas. I thought you'd shown them the video by now. I was going to let it go—we're family, after all. But your mom is so insistent on accountability. On admitting mistakes. On apologies." She paused. "The mistake wasn't mine. Why should I apologize?"

Sophia blinked. "What video?"

Riley pulled out her phone and played it.

The footage was clear. Jeremy shouting. Grabbing the cake himself. Riley never touched him.

Sophia stared at the screen, her mind blank.

There couldn't be a video. She'd made sure the security footage was deleted.

But here it was.

Her face cycled through shock, panic, calculation—then settled on wounded innocence.

"Riley..." Her voice cracked. "If you didn't want to apologize, you could have just said so. I wouldn't have pushed."

Her eyes glistened. Tears arrived on cue.

"But editing a video? Framing a child for lying? That's—that's cruel."