The Billionaire's Forsaken Wife

VELT'

ining room, but I couldn't bring myself to take a bite. My

suit jacket, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, veined forearms that flexed slightly as he c

ng, he was powerf

a diamond necklace or a designer bag, and we would go about our separate lives. But this year

f the globe, Zyran had actually agreed. He came home early.

. I wanted to see every change in his expression, every flicker in those da

sly to my flat stomach be

preg

ur years. Zyran was distant, yes. He was cold, and sometimes looking at him felt like staring at a beautiful ice sculpture that I couldn't tou

Zyran's deep voice broke thro

rmth rise to my cheeks. I had

y trembling hands. I took a sip of water instead of the wine, reminding my

wagyu with a truffle reduction. I held my breath. I wasn't a professional chef, I was an interior designer. I s

owed, and finally lifte

lmly. "Better than the chef at that

mpliment? From Zyran? That was

face. "I tried a new recipe. I know how picky you are

his eyes seemed to soften. "You have a talent for detail, Roosevelt. Wh

rt made it sound lik

lot coming from you," I said sof

. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, though. I would have been fin

not

t opening, he was being attentive, complimenting me, and

ped my hands together on th

ecial," I started, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he c

ly, his dark eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Oh? Is it about you

my head. A nervous laugh escaped me

side my chair, my fingers brushing against the

't always been the most conventional couple. I know you like your space and your

laced it on the table, sli

niversary

n was unreadable, that familiar mask slipping back into pla

standing up, coming over to my side of the table, and pulling me into his arms. I i

box, the loud, intrusive ringtone

n fr

phone. Only a handful o

udden dread pooling in my stomach. "Pl

e screen. His eyes widened, a reaction so raw and shock

bbed the phone, answering it b

said, his

om my husband's face. The warmth that had been there moments ago eva

ng up so suddenly that his chair scraped against th

it was as if he wasn't really see

voice shaking. "What

already moving toward the

my chest. "But... the dinner. The gift.

ng back. His eyes were wild, distracted. "I'm sorr

nt than our anniversary?" I shouted, hu

htening. "An old friend.

h

g in the air

" he said before turning

of the cold steak making me feel sick. The box sa

the first time in four years, I fe

urned all the way down, leaving small pools of wax on th

d into the trash. I felt foolish. I felt small. I touched the box in my pocket agai

room, I saw headlights flash through the fro

pped a beat.

zed his mistake. Maybe he returned t

door and opened it b

I'm so g

stuck in

small and thin, with long brown hair that hung over her face. She wore a whit

e didn't seem sorry. He

voice sharp. "Move aside

confused. "Zyr

e chandelier illuminated her face. She was beautiful, in a fra

e friend who called. Her apartment ca

r eyes were big and innocent, but somet

said, her voice soft and shaky. "

ulling her closer to him. He turned to me. "Rooseve

to ours? Zyran, that room isn't ready. And... it's

atized, Roosevelt. I am not sending he

oward the stairs. I stood there, frozen. My husband brought anoth

up the grand staircase. "Zyran, we nee

the top of the landing. "I need to

n the hall toward the bathroom, leav

y sound was the ticking of the

to be kind and act like the

stiffly. "But my husband and

wiped her tears away. Suddenly, the innocent look on he

me, we stood right at

r voice was no longer shaky, it was smooth an

ped. I couldn't be

were both in danger, who do you think Zyr

ha

time to proc

r hand shoot out. I felt a h

A

lipped at the edge of the step. I reac

backward, skidding off the stairs a