Trapped in a Secret Marriage with a Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 317

Chapter 317: All Three Against One
The dining room of the Swift family residence was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, buttered croissants, and an assortment of breakfast dishes arranged neatly on the long mahogany table.

Ivy, seated comfortably with a cup of cappuccino in her manicured hands, sighed dramatically. “You know, Mum,” she started, setting her cup down with a soft clink, “we should make some plans for Christmas. It’s only a few days away, and it would be depressing to sit around doing nothing.”

Damien, casually cutting into his omelet, hummed in agreement. “That’s true. We should at least do something.”

But before Ivy could continue, Olivia—who had been uncharacteristically silent—slowly placed her fork down with a sharp clatter. Her gaze lifted, cold and piercing.

“Do you have no shame?” Olivia’s voice was deceptively calm, but her underlying fury was unmistakable. “Celebrating Christmas? When my mother was just sentenced to life imprisonment a few days ago?”

The room fell into silence.

Olivia had made that statement from the perspective of what people would say about their family if they embarked on a Christmas celebration. But no one understood her since she didn’t pass her message across properly.

For a moment, Ivy blinked, confused. She tilted her head, as if trying to decipher what Olivia truly meant. But when the wrong realization struck, her expression darkened, and she scoffed.

“Excuse me?” Ivy’s lips curled into a sneer. “Was I the one who asked your mother to commit the horrendous crimes that landed her in prison? Should we all put our lives on hold because of her sins?”

Stephanie, seated at the head of the table, quietly sipped her tea, her face unreadable.

Olivia glanced at her aunt, expecting a rebuke, some form of intervention. But Stephanie didn’t even spare her a glance.

Fine. If her aunt wouldn’t put Ivy in her place, she would do it herself.

Olivia leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. “You should learn some manners, Ivy. And while you’re at it, pay for some wisdom because it looks like no one ever taught you that.”

Damien’s fork froze mid-air. His gaze flickered toward Olivia, sharp and unamused.

Ivy, on the other hand, immediately bristled. Olivia had not only insulted her but had also taken a jab at their mother—implying that she hadn’t raised her properly.

Ivy clenched her jaw. “You—”

But before she could utter another word, Stephanie set her teacup down with a soft yet firm thud.

“Ivy,” she called smoothly, cutting through the brewing storm.

Ivy instantly shut her mouth.

Stephanie’s gaze finally lifted, but instead of looking at Olivia, she looked straight at Ivy. “Olivia’s mother killed people and was just sentenced to life imprisonment,” she said, her voice calm but cutting. “So, of course, it’s natural for Olivia not to celebrate Christmas.”

Olivia’s lips parted slightly, her face heating with anger.

But before she could react, Stephanie continued, shifting her gaze to her children. “On that note, the three of us will be going to the Maldives to spend the Christmas holidays together.”

Ivy’s frustration evaporated instantly. Her lips stretched into a delighted smile.

“That’s perfect,” Damien said with a nod of approval.

Ivy clasped her hands together, excitement bubbling in her voice. “I was actually thinking we might just celebrate Christmas here in Wing City, but this is even better! The Maldives? Oh, I can already picture it—the clear blue waters, the sun, the luxury resorts…”

Stephanie offered a small, approving smile at her daughter’s enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Olivia sat still, her hands balled into fists beneath the table.

Her face burned—not just from anger, but from sheer humiliation.

Her aunt’s words had been deliberate.

Stephanie hadn’t just dismissed her—she had put her in her place.

And worse, she had done it with a subtlety so sharp that she had no way to retaliate.

As if that wasn’t enough, jealousy twisted inside Olivia as another thought crossed her mind.

Her aunt was probably using the company’s money to sponsor this extravagant trip for herself and her children.

And yet here she was, trapped in this suffocating house, unable to even hold onto the power that once belonged to her.

But Olivia remained silent.

She was at fault for bringing up the subject in the first place.

So, instead of saying anything, she reached for her knife and fork, cutting into her food with quiet precision.

But her mind was far from calm.

As Ivy continued gushing about the Maldives, Olivia silently vowed to make her little ass uncomfortable.

—

The soft chime of Abigail’s phone broke the peaceful silence in her penthouse. She was curled up on her plush ivory couch, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a book resting on her lap.

Aurora had given her the keys to her apartment before jetting off for the family Christmas holidays.

Glancing at the caller ID, she raised a brow. Asher?

With mild curiosity, she swiped to answer.

“Asher,” she greeted smoothly, bringing her coffee to her lips. “This is a surprise.”

A low chuckle came from the other end. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Abigail smirked. “Not really. But I’m guessing you didn’t call just to exchange pleasantries. What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask about your Christmas plans,” he said casually.

Abigail shifted, setting her cup down. “I’m going on a solo trip,” she answered. “Somewhere peaceful, away from all the noise of Wing City.”

Asher chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. “Fair enough.” There was a brief pause before he continued, “I’m hosting a Christmas party two days after Christmas. It’s more of a year-end celebration, I actually organize.”

Abigail arched a brow. “A Christmas party? Sounds extravagant.”

“Well, you know me,” he said, his voice light and teasing. “I like to go all out.”

Abigail smirked. “That, I do know.”

“Anyway,” Asher continued, “I’d like you to attend. That is, in case you’re still in Wing City at that time.”

Abigail leaned back into the couch, tapping a manicured finger against the book on her lap. “Hmm… I’m not sure about that probability,” she admitted. “But if my plans permit, I’ll try to make it.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Asher said, the amusement evident in his tone. “I’ll send you a formal invitation this evening.”

“Formal invitation?” Abigail chuckled. “How fancy.”

“What can I say? I have standards,” he quipped.

Abigail shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Noted.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Asher finally spoke again. “Well then, I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your day Abigail.”

Abigail smirked. “Enjoy your excessive party planning, Asher.”

A short laugh followed. “I’ll try. Bye, Abigail.”

“Bye.”

With that, the call ended.

Though Abigail wasn’t sure if she’d still be in town, it wouldn’t hurt to keep it in mind.