The 99th Game Was Mine All Along novel Chapter 117

The couple who owned the restaurant moved in perfect sync—one stacking burger patties, the other grilling them.

Through the rising steam, they worked together seamlessly, like a living embodiment of domestic harmony.

Ethan suddenly remembered that back in Scotland, we once shared such moments.

Back then, I had ignored my family's objections and insisted on opening a home decor boutique with him.

I'd taught him the business step by step—I handled sales while he managed the finances.

We were happily busy.

Some people even called him "the useless husband," but he didn't mind:

"I'm spending my wife's money. What's it to you?"

We'd had arguments before, but I usually got over them after a few days.

Ethan gripped the steering wheel, his hands slightly shaking, but still reassuring himself.

It seemed I was truly angry this time. It would be fine.

He just needed to humble himself a bit and comfort me properly.

As the penthouse came into view, with its warm yellow light glowing from within, his entire body relaxed.

The car spun into the driveway and stopped at the entrance.

Ethan got out, straightened his clothes, and put on a poker face.

He thought that while he would comfort me, he should also make me understand the gravity of my actions.

So I wouldn't take our son and run away again on a whim.

He pushed open the door, fully expecting me to throw myself into his arms.

But the person who looked up at him was Victoria.

She was on the verge of tears: "Ethan, where did you go? I thought you'd abandoned me..."

Ethan frowned deeply. He had never found Victoria so irritating before.

Impatiently pushing her away, he walked straight upstairs: "Freya..."

But upstairs, there was no sign of me.

Not only that. Everything related to me had disappeared from the entire penthouse.

The closet was half empty—the colorful dresses and playful children's clothes were gone.

Where our wedding photo had hung in the bedroom, there was now only a blank white wall.

The metal box containing a hundred love letters I had treasured for seven years was now just a blackened container.

With nothing but ashes inside.

He stared at those ashes, suddenly remembering. How much effort he had put into pursuing me.

He had written over a hundred love letters just to earn the chance to climb up to my balcony.

He had climbed that balcony for nearly half a year before I finally let him in.

Ethan covered his face and collapsed on the floor. Everything seemed to have spiraled out of control...

Footsteps approached from the doorway.