Burning Desires (An Open Marriage With The Billionaire)

SOPHIA LANCASTER

The crystal flute felt cold against my palm. As the glittering gowns and tailored tuxedos parted and swirled across the ballroom, my eyes were fixed on a single person.

Daniel, my husband had his arm wrapped around her waist, his head bent low as he whispered something into her ear. She laughed and threw her head back. It was the same woman I had found him with in our summer house just last week.

I had walked in on them, there was no shame, no apologies, just later that night, he had laid out his grand solution which wasn't a divorce, not a promise to change, but a proposition of an open marriage.

"It's modern, Soph," he'd said, his voice casual as if suggesting we try a new restaurant. "We'd have our freedom, but everything all stays intact."

My world had tilted, was that my worth? After five years of marriage, after shelving my own ambitions to build his, after being his shadow partner, his strategist, his ghostwriter, his everything... my reward was to be offered a shared position in his life?

I brought the champagne to my lips, but the liquid did nothing to numb the ache in my chest. I wanted to march over there, to pour the rest of this ridiculously expensive drink over her smug, smiling face but I couldn't.

"Look at her," I heard a voice, I didn't have to turn to know who they were, "Just standing there, watching. Another woman is closing a deal wrapped up in her husband's arms, and she just sips her champagne."

"Poor thing," another added, her tone dripping with mock pity. "She's beautiful, I'll give her that but what does she actually do? Daniel is the genius, she's just there to warm his bed and wear his diamonds."

I felt anger so intense it made my hands tremble. They had it all so wrong. Daniel, a genius? Daniel couldn't strategize his way out of a paper bag. Lancaster Innovations wasn't his brainchild, it was mine. I was the one who spent sleepless nights in the early years coding the initial software, the one who drafted the business proposals that secured our first round of funding. The Sterling acquisition, the move that put us on the map? That was my play, from the first subtle inquiry to the final negotiation. I had built this empire, brick by brick, and handed him the crown because I thought we were a team. I had believed in him, in us. All he did was take the credit, smile for the cameras, and screw his way through ambitious assistants and socialites.

And he knew he had me, he knew I couldn't leave. I was so drunk and I had signed that stupid contract.

"Just some legal housekeeping, baby," he had slurred, "A post-nup, my lawyers are insisting on it. Protects the company and us."

I was so drunk on love and pride, so utterly convinced of our unbreakable bond, that I had signed it without a second thought. I didn't read the legal clauses that stated if I were to initiate divorce proceedings for any reason, all assets, personal and professional held in my name or jointly would be forfeit. I had effectively signed away my life's work, my own fortune inherited from my father had been absorbed into the company's capital years ago. If I left him, I would walk away with nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And what would I do then? How would I pay for my mother's care? It costs a fortune every month, and I couldn't start over. He knew it, he knew he had me wrapped around his finger.

The sight of him now laughing openly with his mistress was unbearable. I couldn't breathe, I placed my empty glass on a passing waiter's tray and turned.

I walked away from the main ballroom, the noise faded behind me, and I just needed a moment to get myself together.

My vision was blurred by unshed tears of rage and humiliation. I wasn't looking where I was going as I collided with something solid. I looked up to see I had landed on a man's chest.

The last thread of my composure snapped. "For God's sake, watch where you're going!" I snapped, I didn't even look up at the man's face. I didn't care who he was without waiting for a reply, I sidestepped him and pushed through a door that led to a small, deserted balcony.

Alone a sob tore from my throat, my body shaking. I felt pathetic and after a few minutes, I couldn't stay out here forever. I took a deep, shuddering breath I smoothed down my long gown, I stepped back into the corridor, and made my way toward the ballroom.

Just as I stepped back I saw that Daniel was no longer with the woman. He was standing near the grand fireplace, deep in conversation with another man. A tall man, impeccably dressed in a dark, tailored suit. I forced my feet to move, and as I drew closer Daniel noticed me. His face lit up with a smile, and he snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me possessively against his side. "Ah, darling, there you are. I was just telling Mr. Calder about our new AI integration."

He turned to the man, his grip on me tightening. "Mr. Calder, I'd like you to meet my wife, the lovely Sophia."

The man turned his head, my polite practiced smile froze on my face and blood drained from my head. He was the same man I had snapped at.

His dark eyes seemed to see right through me, his strong, severe jawline twitched and I felt shiver down my spine.

Ethan Calder is not just a billionaire, he was the billionaire. A legend in the tech and finance world. A ruthless, private man from the one percent of the one percent, known for crushing his competition and for never ever suffering fools.

And I had just screamed at him like a common fishwife.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Sophia Hawthorne, Mr. Daniel Hawthorne was just talking about you."

"It's Lancaster," I replied with a nervous smile and I just saw a faint smirk on his face.

What was I thinking snapping at him? This is not good!