Billionaire's Rekindling Love

ZARA TAYLOR

“Please be careful with that,” I said as I rushed towards the huge picture of me and my husband, Ronnie, on our wedding day.

“Where do you want it placed?” I was asked.

“Just… over there,” I replied, pointing to the far wall across from the fireplace. My fingers trembled slightly as I adjusted the frame, brushing a speck of dust from the glass. The sight of our smiling faces, frozen in time, sent a pang through my chest.

The movers nodded and carefully set the portrait down where I’d indicated.

I stared at it for a moment longer. That day felt like a lifetime ago. Two years, to be exact.

Two years of marriage, I was thrown into, to pay off my family’s debt. A marriage that made me give my all but received nothing back in return. But hopefully it all changes today because of our anniversary.

“Is there anything else you’d like us to move, ma’am?” one of them asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I blinked, swallowing hard. “No. That’ll be all for now, thank you.” I quickly covered the portrait with a piece of clothing. I checked around for how the meals are placed on the table.

The table was set just the way I wanted—crystal glasses polished to a shine, silverware neatly aligned, and the scent of rosemary chicken wafting through the air. I’d spent hours perfecting every detail. If tonight didn’t change something between Ronnie and me… I wasn’t sure what would.

All I ever wanted was a family, one that felt like mine used to. Like me, Mom, and Dad. It was one of the things I looked forward to when I was thrust into this marriage by my stepmother.

But that couldn't happen because my husband wouldn't touch me. Instead, every night I wake up to the sound of him calling out another woman's name in his sleep. A name that sounded familiar.

Having fairytale love was something I had always hoped for. For my name to be on his lips just one night. Maybe this night will change everything. It has to because all hope is beginning to feel lost.

I adjusted one of the napkins, just for the sake of doing something, anything. My heart thudded against my chest as the clock ticked closer to seven. That’s when he said he’d be home.

The numerous notifications sounds coming from my phone broke my thoughts and I reached into my back pocket.

“Damnit,” I cursed silently. I thought I had muted the notification coming from this particular blog site. Everything about my life has been criticized by this blog.

Talking about how I conned my way into his life just for his money was a regular thing, and I have tried to push those words out of my head.

“Until now,” I signed as I opened up the latest post, and my eyes shone.

“What is this?” I asked myself, trying to grasp what I was reading. “It can't be,” Ronnie with another woman.

My breath caught in my throat as I scrolled down, each word etching itself into my brain like a slow-burning fire. The photo attached to the post was blurry but damning, Ronnie, unmistakably him in his tailored grey suit, leaning in too close to a woman I couldn’t recognize because of how the picture was taken. Her hand rested on his chest, fingers curled like they belonged there. His smile,God, that smile, the only time I have seen him smile so hard was on our wedding day.

A caption mocked me in bold font beneath the image,

“Power couple no more? Sources say Ronnie Walsh is finding comfort elsewhere. Who is the mystery woman stealing the billionaire’s attention?”

I dropped the phone onto the table with a clatter, the screen facing down like it could erase what I’d just seen. My chest heaved as if my ribs were too tight to contain my lungs. The scent of rosemary, once warm and comforting, now made my stomach churn.

I walked over to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly to glance outside—still no sign of his car. I bit my lower lip, willing myself not to cry. Not yet.

The clock struck seven. Then, a huge noise filled the compound. That’s Ronnie’s car. Without thinking, I rushed outside, desperate for answers and more questions at the same time.

The car stopped directly in front of me. He wasn’t alone. I could see two more people from where I stood.

“Tell me this isn’t real, Ronnie?” I couldn’t wait to ask him as he got out of his car. I shoved my phone in his face.

“You know it is,” he scoffed and walked towards the passenger door.

“No, you are not working away from me this time. I want an answer. In detail!” I yelled.

His smile turned into a smirk as he opened the passenger door of his car. “How is this for detail?” he asked as a familiar face walked out.

“Becca, Laurel?” I looked at both of them, confused. What’s my stepsister and my stepmother doing in my husband's car on the day of my anniversary?

“Zara, meet Rebecca, the love of my life,” Ronnie’s words sounded like echoes in my ear. I looked at Becca, who stood beside him with a smirk on her lips. I turned to Laurel, who had the same look.

“What is this?” I asked, after finding my voice. “Is this a sick joke?” I asked again.

Ronnie didn’t answer right away. Instead, he placed a possessive hand on Rebecca’s waist, like he was proud, proud, to tear my world apart.

“No joke,” he said simply. “Just the truth, I'm finally done hiding.”

My heart thudded painfully, the wind knocked out of me without a single blow. I looked from him to Rebecca—Becca, my stepsister, that’s why the name always sounded familiar. I can’t believe I didn’t put it all together. But who would have thought they were the same person?

“You knew,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my pulse crashing in my ears. “Both of you knew.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Laurel said, stepping forward like she was the guest of honor at a dinner party.

“You think I’d let you marry into money, if I knew my daughter already had Ronnie’s heart?” she asked.

Her words sliced through the night like glass. My knees nearly buckled, but I forced myself to stay upright.

“This was never about you, Zara,” Rebecca chimed in, her voice syrupy sweet with venom underneath. “You were just the placeholder. The charity case. He was always meant to be mine.”

I turned to Ronnie, desperately needing him to deny it, to say something, anything. But all he did was shrug.

“She gets me,” he said. “She’s not… needy.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of them.

“So this… everything… our marriage was just a deal?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“A transaction,” Laurel said coldly. “To pay off your dead father’s debt. You should be thanking us. We gave you a roof over your head, a name to wear like a crown, and all we asked in return was that you play your part.”

Rebecca stepped closer then, her smile radiant and cruel. “And now your part is over."

I stared at the three of them, the people who were supposed to be my family. My world tilted, cracked, and shattered, all in the span of a few minutes.