SECRET BILLIONAIRE EXS REGRET

Chapter 1

A MONTH AGO

Baila sat in her living room operating on her system. She had some unfinished work that she needed to submit to Tamar. He didn't let her go to work today because she was feeling ill. But Baila always been the stubborn type, she insisted on completing her work. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice her phone vibrating beside her. Just as she turned to take the bottle of water beside her, she saw her phone vibrating. She picked it up slowly and checked the caller ID. It showed Sebastian, one of her best friends. Without wasting any time, she picked up the call, and what met her ears was the panting voice of Sebastian, which made her worried.

“Help… help me… please,” came Sebastian's panting voice.

“Sebastian! Sebastian! Sebastian, can you hear me?” she asked, but the other party already hung up the call.

“Fuck, what could have possibly happened,” she thought and dialed her other best friend's number, Amira. It first rang, but there was no response. The same goes for the second ring, and the third ring; the phone was answered.

“Do you miss me that much?” Amira's Australian accent welcomed her ears.

“Amira, I think Sebastian is in trouble,” she mumbled.

“And why do you think so?” Amira questioned. “He called me this time around; he was panting like he was beaten up. He called me for help, I don't know what to do, that's why I am calling you,” she rushed her words.

“Well, I don't know. You know the last time he called you for something like this, he almost raped you. So I will say don't go, it's maybe one of his tricks,” Amira said calmly.

“No, he sounded like he was in real trouble this time around,” she said.

“I already told you what I needed to tell you, don't call me again if you want to be foolish, at least learn from your mistake,” she hissed and ended the call.

“Gosh, what should I do?” she muttered to herself. Without thinking, she took one of the cars parked in the parking garage outside and drove roughly out of the mansion.

After a few minutes of driving, Baila arrived at Sebastian's place. She came down from her car and walked into the house. The door wasn't closed when she went in, and the house was dark.

“Sebastian,” she called calmly, trying to find the light switch. “Sebas…” before she could complete her words, her nose and mouth were covered with a white piece of cloth, and she fell unconscious after struggling while trying to scream.

“I am so sorry, my dear friend, but I can't watch another man take you away from me; you would have been mine if that bastard didn't walk into the picture,” Sebastian said as he carried her in his arms. He turned on the light switch, and a girl named Vanessa's face came into view; she smiled mischievously.

“I told you it would be easy,” she smiled and glared at Baila with hatred.

“Your job here is done; now go keep that useless husband of hers company,” he said, and she only gave an eyeroll before exiting the scene.

It was getting dark when Tamar arrived home. He searched the entire building for his wife but couldn't find her. He asked the maids around, but none of them saw her leaving the penthouse. He thought maybe she went to Amira's, so he called her number, but it was switched off. He dialed Amira's number, and she picked.

“Mr. Tamar, you cared to reach me today; am I safe?” she questioned immediately she picked the call, and he just chuckled.

“Sorry, I have been busy lately, so I didn't have time to call,” he explained. “No need for the long explanation, Mr. Billionaire, I understand, sorry, why calling me?” she asked again.

“Baila isn't home; is she with you?” he asked, and there was silence on the other party's end. “Amira,” he called, and that seemed to revive her.

“She isn't here with me. About four hours ago, she called me and told me Sebastian called her. He sounded like he was in trouble. I told her not to go due to the last time incident, but it seems like she went,” she explained, trying to sound calm; only God knows how pissed she is right now. Baila doesn't listen; she never does.

“Fuck,” he stood up, took his jacket, and ran out of the penthouse with a car key. In less than fourteen minutes, he arrived at Sebastian's place. He walked into the house silently, and what he heard was someone trying to break free from another. The person's voice sounded so much familiar, like that of his wife.

“Let me go, you bastard,” Baila said, almost breathless, as Sebastian rode into her non-stop. She had woken up only to find him having sex with her.

“Help!!” her voice barely above a whisper, she tried pushing him away, but her hands were tied with a rope to the bed stand. Just when she lost all hope, the door burst open, and Tamar came in, looking all dangerous. He charged at Sebastian without thinking twice; he threw a punch at his face, and he fell heavily on top of Baila, who finally found her voice and screamed out in pain.

“How dare you place your filthy hands on my woman, you fucking bastard,” Tamar roared and punched him again. He kicked him countless times, losing control of his anger. Sebastian tried getting up on his feet, but Tamar left him no chance as he continued blessing his face with punches.

“Babe, help me,” Baila whispered as she tried to wiggle her hands out of the rope. Tamar diverted his burning gaze to her and he stared at her with anger and hatred. She glued down in fear, looking everywhere else but not at his face.

“I warned you,” he thundered, and she shrieked, trying to sink into the bed; she had never seen Tamar this angry, and nobody needs to tell her that she messed up. He glared at her with nothing but pure anger in his eyes; the fire from his eyes burned holes straight into hers.

“Am sorry,” she shuddered, tears already pouring out of her eyes. Tamar angrily walked to the bed and undid the rope. He covered her with the blanket, then carried her in a bridal style as they walked out of the building. Just then, Amira arrived with the cops.

“Arrest that bastard,” he told them and went into his car with Baila, who wouldn't stop sobbing.

ONE MONTH AFTER

Baila sighed for the fifth time as she waited anxiously for the doctor's report; she has been waiting for the report for close to an hour now.

“Gosh,” she muttered and faced the floor, glaring at the tilted floor. Just then the door opened, and the doctor came in with a white piece of paper in his hands. She sprang up from her seat immediately he came in fully.

“Doctor, what does the result say?” she asked impatiently. “Please have a seat,” the doctor pointed at the chair politely before he went to sit down, and she sat down just after him.

Lately, she has been having some weird feelings, and she would throw up almost every time. She hasn't seen her period for the past two months; she doesn't want to jump to conclusions, so she came for a test.

“So Ms. Arerebo, good news, you are two months pregnant,” he broke the news, and she immediately rested her head on his desk, leaving him with a puzzled look.

“Why? Just why,” she questioned no one in particular as she raised her head, tears already pouring down her cheeks.

“Ms. Arerebo, you are crying; it seems like you don't want the child,” the doctor said slowly, handing her a tissue which she took and wiped her tears.