The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 70 Eleanor POV I stood in front of the Victorian-style house in Newton, feeling oddly displaced in time. The historic building with its weathered façade and intricate trim work had once been my entire world. Now I was a stranger on my own doorstep, hesitating before pressing the bell. The house hadn't changed much-still maintaining its dignified presence despite showing signs of neglect. Chipped paint around the window frames and overgrown hedges suggested a lack of proper care, but the bones of the structure remained solid.

This wasn't just any house in the upscale Newton neighborhood; this was my parents' legacy, the only tangible piece of them I had left. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the doorbell. Its familiar chime brought back a flood of memories-running down the stairs on Christmas mornings, my father's laughter echoing through the hallway, my mother's gentle hands braiding my hair by the bay window. I pushed those thoughts away. I couldn't afford sentimentality today. The door swung open, and Aunt Valerie's expression shifted from routine politeness to shock, then quickly to something more guarded.

Her hand fluttered to her throat. "Eleanor," she said, her voice unnaturally high. "What a surprise." "Hello, Aunt Valerie." I kept my voice even, professional. This wasn't a social call, and we both knew it. She didn't invite me in. Instead, she stepped forward, partially closing the door behind her as if to prevent me from seeing inside. The home that had once been mine. "I'm not here for a visit," I said, getting straight to the point. "I've come to discuss the house." Her face tightened. "What about the house?" "I want it back," I said simply. "This house belongs to me.

It's my parents' property, and as their only child, it's my inheritance. I'm giving you notice that you and Uncle Robert need to find somewhere else to live." Aunt Valerie's eyes immediately welled with tears-a response I'd seen countless times before. "Eleanor, you know my situation. My back pain has gotten worse. Some days I can barely sit up without-" "I've heard this before," I cut her off, surprised by my own firmness. "Many times, actually. I've been accommodating for years.

If I hadn't been, I would have reclaimed this house when I got married." Her expression hardened slightly at the mention of my marriage, but the tears continued to flow. "Where would we go? We don't have your advantages, your wealthy connections-" "Valerie? Who's at the door?" A deep voice from inside the house interrupted her performance. Heavy footsteps approached, and then my uncle's broad frame appeared 1/2 behind Valerie. His eyes narrowed when he saw me. "What does she want?" he asked Valerie, as if I weren't standing right there.

"She's talking about the house," Valerie whispered, her voice trembling. Uncle Robert pushed past her to confront me directly. He'd gained weight since I last saw him, his face ruddier, but the coldness in his eyes was exactly as I remembered. "You ungrateful woman," he spat. "After everything we've done for you. We took you in when no one else would. We raised you-* "If by 'raised me' you mean took me in for a few months before shipping me off to foster care, then yes, thank you for that tremendous sacrifice," I replied, my voice remaining steady despite the anger rising within me.

"We did what we could!" he shouted. "You were a burden we never asked for!" "And my parents' house was a windfall you never earned," I countered. "A house you've been living in rent-free for years while I bounced between foster homes." His face darkened. "Your parents' tragedy was your fault! That cursed luck you brought with you-" "Robert!" Valerie hissed, grabbing his arm. I felt something cold settle in my chest. "My fault? My parents died in a financial fraud case connected to Wells Investment Bank. I was only twelve years old. How exactly was that my fault?" Robert sneered.

"Always playing the victim. Just like your mother." I took a deep breath, centering myself. "I'm not here to argue about the past. I'm here to tell you that I want my house back. You have one week to make arrangements to leave." Comments 4 Write Comments SHARE 2/2 Ruby Walker Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish.

Ruby's writing style is bold and irresistible-perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.