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Alone

Author: Khey coco
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-05 17:28:40

Elizabeth POV

It’s been twelve days.

Twelve long, dragging days since I walked in and saw that woman on her knees, sucking Christian’s dick like she’d been starved for it.

Twelve days since I saw the cold, unapologetic look in his eyes as he zipped up his pants without shame.

And I haven’t seen him since.

He left for a business trip without a word. No note. No goodbye. Just vanished—like I didn’t exist. Well, I suppose I don’t… not to him. I’m just his wife on paper. No vows, no wedding, no ring. Nothing binding except ink.

And maybe it’s better this way.

A glorified arrangement, dressed up in silence and tension.

I pushed the covers off and sat up in bed, the cold air nipping at my bare legs. I tied my hair into a loose bun and walked toward the window, drawing back the curtains.

Morning light spilled across the room, highlighting the expensive furnishings that still didn’t feel like mine.

The walls were too perfect, the silence too thick. This house felt more like a museum than a home.

I’d spent the last twelve days like a shadow. Eat, sleep, walk and Repeat.

The staffs treated me like I didn’t exist.

Maybe they were told to. No one made eye contact. No one spoke, unless necessary.

Except for Nana—sweet, patient Nana. She was the only one who treated me like I was more than just a guest.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Miss?” Nana’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Come in,” I called out, wrapping my robe tighter.

She entered with a warm smile, wearing her usual black gown with a white apron, her silver hair tucked neatly into a bun.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” I lied, forcing a smile.

“You really don’t have to come up here every morning, you know. I can walk downstairs just fine.”

“I know,” she said, bending to pick up one of my slippers from under the bed. “But I have my duties. Christian asked me to look after you, and I take that seriously.”

I scoffed under my breath. “He asked you to look after me but didn’t even bother to say goodbye?”

Nana didn’t respond to that. Just gave me a sympathetic smile.

“He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, is he?” I muttered.

She straightened. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around in his own way.”

I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t say so.

“Now come on,” she said. “Breakfast is ready.”

“I’ll be down in five.”

“Don’t be late,” she said gently, and left.

After brushing my teeth and freshening up, I changed into a soft knit top and leggings. Nothing fancy. There was no one to impress.

As I stepped out of my room, the rich aroma of butter, cinnamon, and coffee reached my nose.

“Is that what I think it is?” I grinned, jogging down the stairs.

“Yes, it is,” Nana said as she placed a plate of pancakes on the table. “Your favorite.”

“You’re spoiling me,” I said, sliding into a chair. “And I’m not even a real wife.”

“Don’t say that.” She frowned. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

I stabbed a piece of pancake with my fork. “Physically, yes.”

She poured me coffee. “Is there anything else you need?”

I hesitated, chewing slowly before asking, “Any idea when Christian will be back?”

She sighed. “He doesn’t share those things. His trips take time.”

“Right,” I mumbled. “Of course.”

I looked down at my plate, the excitement over breakfast fading.

“I’m bored,” I blurted. “I mean, completely and utterly bored. Do you know any place nearby I could visit? A bookstore? A coffee shop?”

She blinked. “You want to go out?”

“Just for a while,” I said. “A quick outing. Something normal. I’m tired of pacing these perfect halls all day.”

She hesitated. “Elizabeth, you know that’s not allowed. Christian would be furious if he found out.”

I folded my arms. “He doesn’t have to find out. I’m tired of staying locked up in this house like some kind of prisoner. I just want one night to feel like me again. I won’t go far, I swear. You can even choose the place.”

“Elizabeth—” she hesitated, torn.

“Please, Nana,” I pleaded, softening my voice, “just once. Just tonight. I promise I’ll be back before anyone notices.”

She sighed, defeated. “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

I grinned, but guilt tugged at me anyway.

“Maybe… a club?” I offered, shrugging awkwardly.

Her eyes shot open. “A what?!”

“A club,” I repeated, more quietly. “I just want to dance, have a few drinks… nothing crazy.”

“No way in hell!” she said, her hands flying to her hips. “You’re a wife, Elizabeth!”

“On paper,” I said quickly. “And even if I weren’t, that doesn’t mean I can’t blow off steam once in a while. It’s just one night, Nana. He’s not even here.”

Nana looked at me for a long moment, then exhaled like she was aging ten years in front of me.

“Fine,” she muttered. “There’s a small club not far from here. I’ll tell the driver to take you. And I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?!”

“Don’t make me regret this,” she warned.

I squealed and hugged her tightly. “Oh my God, thank you so much, Nana!”

“Please, Elizabeth…” she said, patting my back with a sigh. “Be careful. And come back on time. Don’t drink too much. Don’t talk to strange men. And—”

“Nana,” I cut her off gently, smiling. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

She gave me a look — the kind of look a mother gives right before handing over the keys to a teenager — and then nodded reluctantly.

“I’ll leave around eleven,” I said, already running the timeline in my head. “Should be back by one.”

“Make sure you are. If Christian comes back early and you’re not here…”

“I’ll be here,” I reassured her, though a part of me wondered if he’d even care. He hadn’t looked at me once with interest. Not after the study. Not ever. As far as he was concerned, I was just another signature on a piece of paper.

But tonight… tonight was for me.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stepped into a club, let alone danced or let go.

The last time I got drunk, I ended up with a child.

But But tonight would be different.

Just a little fun. A little freedom. A little reminder that I still existed outside of this cold, glass prison.

What could possibly go wrong?

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  • Claimed by the billionaire    Desperation

    ELIZABETH POV It’s been a month and five days since I told Christian to stay away from me. And this time, he actually listened. No shadow lurking in the corners, no sudden visits, no arrogant voice calling me Red when I least expected it. Just silence. I should be relieved. I should be able to breathe again. But instead, I find myself missing him. Missing the chaos, the heat, the way his presence filled every space in my life whether I wanted it or not. And even when I fight it, a part of me wonders how he’s doing. Is he drowning himself in whiskey again? Is he thinking about me? About… us? I forced the thoughts down. I couldn’t let myself drown in that spiral again. So today, I decided to go out. Clear my head. The little bookstore in town had always been my safe place. Quiet. Steady. Somewhere I could hide inside stories that weren’t mine. I asked the café manager for a break, and he didn’t hesitate. Lately, he’s been unusually kind, he raised my pay, cut down my shifts. I k

  • Claimed by the billionaire    How long?

    ELIZABETH POV I had told Christian to leave me alone, but what I didn’t expect was to find him standing on my grandmother’s porch. My chest tightened instantly. Thankfully, Grandma and Hope weren’t home, if they were, this would’ve been a disaster. My grandmother? She would’ve chased him off with a broom. And Hope… God, the thought of him seeing her terrified me. What if the only reason he was here was because of her, not me? “What are you doing here, Christian? Are you stalking me now?” I asked, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his. Because I knew one look at him and my walls might crumble. “Yes,” he said without hesitation, stepping closer. “I’m stalking you. Because I can’t stay away from you.” His honesty slammed my face, leaving me breathless. I lifted a trembling hand between us, creating space that barely existed. “Stop. Don’t come any closer. Don’t make me… don’t make me file a restraining order against you.” The words came out sharp, I didn’t mean the restraining

  • Claimed by the billionaire    Missed it all

    CHRISTIAN POV The glass hit the counter harder than I meant, amber liquid splashing over my fingers. I didn’t even bother wiping it away. My chest felt like it was caving in, every breath jagged, useless. I downed the whiskey in one swallow. It burned, but nowhere near enough. Nothing ever could. Her tears. Her voice breaking when she told me to go. The way she looked at me like I was the very thing that destroyed her… it was worse than any bullet to the chest. I never begged anyone since I turned twenty, no one. But in that moment, with her tears cutting me open like blades, I would’ve dropped to my knees and begged if it meant undoing the damage I’d caused. The glass was too small for the storm inside me. I tossed it aside and seized the bottle of whiskey, pressing it to my lips and drinking until fire scorched my throat. Still, the pain in my chest refused to fade. Nothing dulled it. Nothing could. God, I wished the ground would split open and swallow me whole. She was

  • Claimed by the billionaire    The truth

    ELIZABETH POV “It was at an event I attended with my father, Jessica, and Josephine,” I admitted slowly. “Go on. Stop giving me pieces of the story,” he pushed, his tone sharp, like my half-answers were testing his patience. I drew in a shaky breath, my eyes dropping to the floor, I couldn’t look at him. “Okay. It was five years ago. A masked event. I saw a stranger in the room, and I ended up sleeping with him. I swear to God, I was stoned. Jessica had slipped something into my drink.” When I finally dared to lift my gaze, the sight of him knocked the air out of my lungs. His face had gone pale—if that was even the right word for it—and emotions flickered so fast in his eyes I couldn’t catch a single one. He staggered back a little, then let out a dark, hollow chuckle. “That night,” he said hoarsely, “you wore a red dress and a gold mask. Red gloss on your lips.” My heart nearly stopped. I nearly lost my mind at the way he recited the details. “How… how did yo

  • Claimed by the billionaire    Talk

    Elizabeth’s POV After what happened yesterday at the event, I dragged myself to the café the next morning. Work was better than sitting at home thinking about everything I couldn’t change. Christian was never going to see me for who I really was, and he’d never understand me. Alex’s words from last night kept circling in my head… or maybe it was the way he’d looked at Hope when he saw her. He knew something. I just didn’t know what. The thought made my stomach twist. I slipped two cups under the coffee machine, watching the dark liquid pour in. Once they filled, I set them on a tray and turned—only to nearly crash right into him. A loud gasp tore out of me. My grip faltered, the tray wobbling, but Christian’s hand shot out and caught it. He set it down firmly on the counter. “Careful,” he said, motioning to the plain white t-shirt stretched across his chest. “I’d hate to have to throw this out.” My chest tightened. What the hell was he doing here? How did he ev

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    CHRISTIAN POV The sharp clack of the cue ball echoed across the room as it struck a red, sending it rolling neatly into the corner pocket. I straightened, cue stick resting lightly against my palm, eyes fixed on the table though my mind was elsewhere. Playing alone had become a habit lately, it was easier to focus on the rhythm of the game than the silence of the house that used to hold Elizabeth’s chaos. “Where were you last night? You didn’t sleep at home,” Alex’s voice cut into the quiet, sharp and accusing. He sounded less like a friend and more like some clingy ex who couldn’t let go. I chalked the cue lazily, refusing to look at him. “And why should I tell you where I slept? Are you stalking me now?” I couldn’t admit the truth—that I hadn’t been sleeping here at all. That the thought of coming back to Elizabeth’s absence, to the untouched sheets and that hollow silence, felt like punishment. God, I missed her noise. “No, I wasn’t stalking you,” he shot back, irritation

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