From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 89: The Delivery Arrives

Before long, several delivery personnel in uniforms from various high-end stores began filing into the mansion, guided by the butler. Each carried an assortment of shopping bags and elegant gift boxes in different sizes, carefully placing them one by another in the center of the grand living room.

In no time, the luxurious rug was buried under what looked like a small mountain of designer purchases—a spectacle that practically shouted extravagance.

At first, Anthea let out a few startled but pleased exclamations. However, as the deliveries kept coming, her initial surprise gradually shifted into suspicion.

Lucas was generous, yes, but he had never been one for wastefulness. Whenever he gave gifts, he did so thoughtfully and in moderation. He'd certainly never staged such an overthetop display before.

Unable to hold back, she rose and stopped one of the deliverers—a man who appeared to be a store manager—with a frown. "Hold on a moment. Did... Did Lucas order all of this?"

The manager maintained a polite, professional smile and gave a slight bow. "No, ma'am. These items weren't ordered by Mr. Ashford. Mrs. Ashford selected them at our boutique yesterday and requested that everything be delivered precisely at this hour today."

Mrs. Ashford?

Anthea instinctively turned toward Sophia, her eyes questioning.

But Sophia's expression—which had been softly smiling just moments before—faltered the instant she heard "Mrs. Ashford."

"That wasn't me! I was at the office all day yesterday handling contracts. I never set foot in a mall."

A sinking feeling settled in Sophia's chest. She hurried over to the towering pile of packages and began sifting through them.

Finally, tucked inside a velvet case from a premier jewelry house, she found a receipt.

There, in the customer signature line, was Riley's name—written in a loose, bold script.

It was Riley.

She'd bought every last item now filling the room and had it all sent straight to Ashford Manor as though it were nothing out of the ordinary.

*****

Lucas' car came to a stop in front of Ashford Manor's imposing entrance. Before he could even cut the engine, his phone rang sharply from his pocket.

It was Anthea.

He didn't answer immediately. Almost reflexively, he glanced over at Riley in the passenger seat.

She was unfastening her seatbelt. The lateafternoon light through the window cast her profile in sharp, cool lines.

Taking in her calm, unreadable expression, Lucas found himself hitting the mute button.

"Let's go in," he said quietly, stepping out of the car.

Riley followed, her pace unhurried.

They passed through the familiar heavy wooden doors one after the other.

The moment Lucas entered the foyer, he stopped short.

Even for someone accustomed to extravagant displays, the sight before him was arresting.

The vast living room—from the expensive rug to the open space before the sofas—was nearly blanketed with shopping bags and gift boxes from luxury retailers.

The air carried a mix of new leather and highend fragrance, undercut by something else: the barely restrained tension radiating from Anthea.

A faint throb started at Lucas' temples.

But just then, from behind him, Riley chose to let out a soft, almost amused sound.

"Oh, I thought I'd have to wait a few more days. I'm impressed they delivered everything so quickly."

With that, she stepped around Lucas—who still hadn't moved—and strolled casually into the room.

That single remark was all it took to ignite Anthea's simmering anger.

"Riley!"

Anthea strode forward, her voice rising.

"What is the meaning of all this? Have you lost your mind? Do you understand the word 'excess'? What exactly did this family do to you that you feel the need to spend like this out of spite?"

Faced with the outburst, Riley didn't so much as flinch.

She tilted her head slightly, avoiding the sharpest edge of Anthea's glare.

"Mom, why are you getting so upset?"

"In the three years Lucas and I have been married, aside from basic necessities, I haven't exactly indulged in anything nice for myself. You and Sophia have new collections delivered season after season. Shouldn't the actual Mrs. Ashford have something to wear besides outdated pieces from years ago? I'm simply making up for three years' worth of shopping—all at once."

"You—you're twisting everything!" Anthea was trembling now. What infuriated her most was Riley's unshakable composure, the way she always made herself sound reasonable.

"If you ask me, it's just proof of your background. You have no concept of taste—you're like a kid in a candy store who's never had nice things. Throwing money around like this... People will think we married some tacky social climber with more money than class."

Riley's lashes fluttered faintly, as though the words had finally struck a nerve.

Her eyes grew slightly red. She turned and slipped behind Lucas, fingers curling lightly into his sleeve.

"Anthea..." Her voice came out soft, tinged with a hurt nasal tone. "I bought all of this with Lucas' card. He doesn't mind... He isn't angry with me. Why are you coming at me like this? If it really bothers you so much, I'll have everything sent back tomorrow."

It was rare for Riley to show any hint of vulnerability in front of Lucas.