I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father-Chapter 275: Be My Husband

Ken heard the metallic clatter long before he saw anyone—sharp, abrupt, cutting through the stagnant air of the holding area like a blade. He pushed himself to his feet, exhaustion wrapped around his bones, but anticipation flickered across his features.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, straightening his posture as the guard keyed open the inner door.

Ken stepped forward, heart steadying, preparing himself for the conversation he had been waiting on.

But when the door opened.

When the figure stepped through...

When the perfume hit him, sweet and suffocating.

His breath stopped.

His entire body went cold.

Ophelia Welhaven stood in the visitation room.

The last person he wanted to see.

Not salvation.

But the serpent that had been coiling silently around his life for decades, tightening without him noticing until now, when the squeeze became lethal.

She paused just inside the doorway, as though allowing him to absorb the spectacle of her arrival. Today she wore black, not the respectful, mourning kind, but luxurious, tailored, and sharp, a statement rather than a sorrow. Her hair was pinned elegantly, makeup immaculate, eyes glittering with the kind of restrained malice only Ophelia could wear like jewelry.

"Hello, Ken." The purr in her voice grated along his nerves. "You look... tired."

He stared, breath shallow. "What are you doing here?"

She tsked, stepping further into the room. "Is that any way to greet family?"

"We are not family," he bit out.

"Not yet," she corrected silkily.

Ken stiffened. A cold, creeping dread rippled down his spine. He had asked Bella to contact one man, one, very specific man. And Ophelia had gotten here first. How fast did her spies move? How deep were her claws sunk into the city?

The guard closed the door behind her. Locked it.

And Ophelia smiled.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to the metal chair as though she owned the place.

He didn’t move.

She hummed, amused. "Still stubborn, even in a cell. Some things never change."

"What do you want?" Ken demanded, voice low, sharp.

Ophelia’s eyes gleamed. "A deal."

He blinked. "A deal?"

She nodded, taking her seat elegantly, crossing her legs, folding her hands atop her knee as though they were simply attending a board meeting instead of sitting in the middle of a police detention ward discussing the murder she’d orchestrated.

"Yes, Kenneth. A deal that ends your little... inconvenience." She lifted her gaze, letting it roam deliberately around the cinderblock walls. "Jail is so unbecoming on you."

Ken stared at her, stunned that she could sit there with her husband’s blood metaphorically still on her immaculate clothes and talk about his imprisonment as though he’d merely gotten a parking ticket.

"You framed me," he said quietly.

Her smile widened. "Obviously."

His fists clenched.

"But," she continued lightly, "I didn’t come here to gloat. I came here to fix things."

"Fix??" He laughed, sharp, disbelieving. "You want to fix things? You murdered your husband in my hotel suite and you want to "fix things?""

"Kenneth." Her tone sliced like a razor. "Don’t be dramatic."

"Dramatic?" His voice shook with fury. "Edward right on my floor."

"Edward," she said with a dismissive wave, "was always weak. You might not know it. But I know it. Keeping him around only made me weak."

Ken’s stomach turned at how she spoke about someone she had been married to for years.

She leaned forward, expression brightening with almost childlike excitement. "But now... a vacancy has opened."

He stared blankly.

"A vacancy?" he repeated flatly.

"Yes." She beamed. "The position of my husband. I’m offering it to you."

Silence.

Not shocked silence, not even stunned silence.

But the kind of silence that comes only when the mind simply refuses to process words that should not exist.

A bark of strangled laughter escaped him. "You’re insane."

"No," she said simply. "I’m determined."

"You killed your husband," Ken said slowly, like he was explaining gravity to a child. "And now you’re asking me to what? Take his place?"

"Yes." She smiled sweetly. "Think of it as... a promotion."

His breath punched from his lungs.

Ophelia laced her fingers together on the table. "I always thought I was the one who should have been with you. You always cared about Maeve. About her honor. Her dreams. Her legacy. And I admired that. When she had everything I wanted, I still admired you."

She tilted her head, eyes softening with something disturbingly close to longing.

"All I ever wanted was what she had. A man who wanted and loved her. A child born of that love. A family that wasn’t constantly questioning her worth."

Her smile twisted.

"It should have been me."

Ken felt bile rise.

"You think this is about me?" he asked hoarsely.

"It’s always been about you," Ophelia breathed. "You. Maeve. And now Lyse."

She said Lyse’s name with the kind of dark envy that made Ken’s blood ice over.

He stepped closer, voice trembling. "If you touch her!"

"Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Kenneth." Ophelia rolled her eyes. "I’m trying to give her something."

His heart thudded painfully.

"What."

Ophelia leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"The Welhaven fortune."

Ken froze.

A chill ran down his spine.

"I’ll let her have it," Ophelia purred. "All of it. Just like her mother. Money. estates. shares. Influence. Everything she’s supposed to inherit." She tapped a finger on the table. "You know I can make that happen. One signature from me to unblock her claim. One amendment to the trust. One press release."

Ken stared, horrified.

"In exchange..." She smiled, radiant. "You and I become the head of the family."

He inhaled sharply. "I will never marry you."

"For Lyse’s safety?" Ophelia asked sweetly. "Are you sure?"

His heart slammed against his ribs.

"Is that a threat?" he whispered.

Her eyes glittered like broken glass.

"That," she said, "is motivation."

A sickening wave of wrath surged through him. "You won’t touch her."

"Touch her?" Ophelia scoffed. "Kenneth, I want to protect her. I want her to live a beautiful, wealthy life. With her rightful inheritance. With her father safe and free."

Her smile sharpened.

"But I want you. And I always get what I want."

He felt his entire body lock.

"I’m giving you everything you care about," she continued softly. "Your daughter safe. Your name cleared. Your fortune restored. Your life back." She paused. "All you have to do... is choose me."

Ken’s voice was barely a breath.

"No."

Ophelia blinked, the first crack appearing in her carefully crafted expression. "No?"

"No," he repeated, firmer. "I will never be with you. Not after what you’ve done. Not after what you’ve taken. Not after the way you destroyed Maeve’s life. And you will never, never... touch Lyse."

Her jaw tightened.

Her nostrils flared.

And for the first time, the mask slipped.

"You think Maeve loved you?" she hissed. "She didn’t. She pitied you. She pitied your devotion. She pitied your loyalty. She pitied your blindness."

Her voice rose, trembling with decades of bitterness.

"She had everything. And I had nothing. Always nothing. Until I took it."

She slammed her hand on the table, eyes burning with madness.

"I deserve what she had!"

Ken stared in horror.

Her voice cracked, raw.

"I deserve a man who loves me. I deserve a family. I deserve a child that is mine. And you, you owe me that chance."

He stepped back, breathing hard. "I owe you nothing."

Ophelia inhaled sharply, fury and heartbreak twisted together in her eyes like poison and fire.

Then she straightened, smoothing her blouse.

Her mask slid back into place.

"Very well," she said coolly. "If you won’t be my husband, then you remain my enemy."

The temperature of the room dropped.

"And I don’t lose to enemies."

She turned toward the door, heels clicking with the certainty of a woman who believed the world itself bent to her will.

Just before the guard opened the door for her, she paused.

Without turning, she said softly:

"Oh, and Kenneth?"

He didn’t respond.

"You should pray I don’t decide that Lyse is less valuable alive."

Ken felt the air punched from his lungs as the door shut behind her.