From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 41: Turning the Tables

She found the whole thing almost laughable.

Sure, the photo was taken from a sneaky angle, clearly set up to make it look suspicious. But anyone with half a brain could see there wasn't even a hint of physical contact between them—nothing intimate at all.

Yet with just one blurry, misleading picture, this entire family had cooked up a full-blown cheating drama in their heads. They were all riled up, acting like a bunch of hens in a frenzy.

She was just about to explain when Julian, seated at the head of the living room, suddenly slammed his palm down on the coffee table.

"This is completely unacceptable!" Julian snapped, his voice stern. "What has the Ashford family ever done to deserve this? You came from humble beginnings—we never held that against you. We welcomed you in, let you marry into this family, gave you the life of a society wife! And this is how you repay us?"

No sooner had Julian finished than Lucas, standing nearby, jumped right in.

He grabbed Riley by the wrist, his handsome face twisted with disappointment and something like hurt.

"Riley, why would you do this?" His tone was accusing. "Is it because I wouldn't let you come back to the firm, so you went and pulled a stunt like this to get back at me? Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?"

Lucas didn't even try to get to the truth. He'd already made up his mind—she'd stooped this low just to spite him.

Just as the three of them were ganging up on her, Sophia's delicate voice chimed in at the perfect moment.

"Lucas... everyone, please go easy on Riley." She spoke softly, eyes already glistening with tears. She looked every bit the fragile peacemaker, too timid to speak up but too kind to stay silent. "Maybe... maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? What misunderstanding!" Anthea's temper flared. "The photo is right there, plain as day! How could that be a misunderstanding? If some tabloid got ahold of this, the Ashford name would be the talk of every gossip column in Havenbrook by tomorrow!"

Riley just stood there, arms crossed, watching coldly as they played off each other, neatly pinning the blame right on her head.

Her silence stretched, until the living room fell into an uneasy, heavy quiet.

After what felt like forever, Anthea—probably worn out from all the yelling—glared at her while catching her breath.

"Cat got your tongue? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Riley slowly lifted her gaze, a sarcastic smile touching her lips.

"Oh? You're all finished? Does that mean it's my turn to talk now?"

Her attitude—calm, almost dismissive, and a little defiant—threw everyone off.

Sophia's eyes shifted nervously, and she quickly stirred the pot again.

"Riley... the photo is right there. The evidence is pretty clear. You... you're not trying to deny it, are you?"

Riley's icy stare locked onto her.

"Why would I admit to something I didn't do?

"Let me ask you this—by your logic, one photo means solid proof. So all those movies you've starred in, where you've kissed and embraced different leading men on camera... Does that mean you've hooked up with every single one of them?"

Sophia's delicate face went pale in an instant.

"I-I never..." Her eyes reddened immediately. She ducked behind Lucas, clutching his sleeve, the picture of wounded innocence. "Riley... I was only trying to help, I was on your side. How could you attack me like that?"

Her performance instantly triggered Lucas' protective side.

Without hesitation, he shifted to shield Sophia, then turned to Riley with a disapproving frown.

"Riley! How could you speak to Sophia that way? She was only trying to stick up for you. Is this how you treat someone who's on your side?"

That actually made Riley let out a dry, frustrated laugh.

"So when all of you convict me based on one photo, that's not an attack. But when I defend myself, suddenly I'm the mean one?"

Lucas' eyes widened. He wasn't used to seeing Riley so fired up.

Based on how long he'd known her, he felt a flicker of something like generosity—maybe he ought to give her a chance to explain.

So his expression softened slightly, and his voice lowered into something almost gentle. "Riley, are you saying the photo isn't real? That you're not involved with anyone else?"

It sounded like a caring question, but to Riley, it cut deep.

He'd been the one sneaking around for years, and he still didn't trust her.

Riley felt a wave of irritation.

She knew she still had to stick around this place for almost another month—no way was she going to swallow this quietly.

"Hand me the phone. Let me see it again." She reached her hand out toward Anthea.

Anthea looked suspicious, clutching her phone tightly and glaring. "What are you trying to pull? Stalling so you can cook up some excuse? I'm telling you, it won't work!"

Riley kept her hand outstretched.

Her steady, dark gaze held a quiet pressure that was hard to ignore.

Lucas watched, brow furrowed, and finally spoke up. "Mom, just let her look at it."

Only then did Anthea reluctantly hand the phone over, muttering under her breath, "Let's see what kind of story you come up with..."