His fake wife, their real obsession

Lydia’s POV

Omg, Julian... you are fucking your son's lesson teacher!

Ms. Davies gasped, frantically grabbing her scattered clothes to shield her bare chest, her face flushing crimson. But Julian just sat up, completely unbothered, brushing a strand of dark hair from his forehead.

"Lydia," he sighed, his voice dripping with utter boredom. "You’re home early. Lower your voice before you wake up the neighbors."

“Lower my voice?" My hands trembled so violently I had to ball them into fists, nails biting into my palms. "It’s our fourth wedding anniversary! I spent the entire evening preparing a surprise for you, waiting at the restaurant like a fool, and you bring her into my bed?!"

Julian rolled his eyes, swinging his naked legs over the side of the mattress. He stood up, towering over me without a shred of shame.

“Oh, cut the dramatic wife act. It bores me. You knew exactly what this marriage was when we signed the papers. I don't love you, Lydia. I never have, and I damn sure never will. You're a placeholder. So stop throwing a goddamn tantrum over something you already knew."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. I had spent four years humiliating myself, playing the perfect, submissive wife, trying to make this narcissistic bastard love me. And this was my reward.

"Get the fuck out," I whispered, the air in my lungs turning to ice.

Julian let out a sharp, mocking laugh, adjusting his jaw. "Get out? Of my own house? Sleep in the guest room and sober up, Lydia. I have a massive corporate meeting tomorrow with investors who could save my logistics firm from bankruptcy. I don't have time for your pathetic little breakdown."

Something inside me snapped completely. The invisible chains of duty and desperation instantly turned to ash. I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

I turned on my heel, stormed down the grand staircase, and snatched the keys to his prized, limited-edition matte-black sports car right off the marble console.

The engine roared to life with a feral snarl as I slammed my foot on the gas, tearing out of the driveway and leaving the burning wreckage of my marriage behind.

I pulled up outside The Obsidian, a high-end, exclusive lounge, and marched straight to the bar.

"Double shot of scotch. Neat," I barked at the bartender, throwing my cash on the counter. "And keep them coming."

I downed the first shot. Then the second. By the fifth glass, the burning liquid had thoroughly numbed the agonizing ache in my chest, turning the world into a hazy, spinning blur of smoke and pulsing bass.

I stared down into the amber liquid, drowning in my own bitter thoughts, when a deep, commanding voice vibrated right against my ear.

"You look entirely too dangerous to be sitting here alone, Lydia."

I blinked heavily, turning my head. My breath caught. I knew those faces. They were towering, wealthy, and radiated ghosts from a past life I thought I'd left behind.

"I must be losing my mind," I slurred, a hysterical laugh escaping my lips as I shook my head. "You're not real. I'm fucking hallucinating."

"Does this feel like a hallucination?" another voice murmured low, dark, and predatory. A large, warm hand, heavily tattooed at the wrist, slid firmly onto the small of my waist, gripping me through the fabric of my dress.

I didn't care if it was a dream. I was hollowed out, broken, and desperate to erase Julian's mocking smirk from my mind.

I reached out, aggressively gripping the lapels of a tailored suit jacket, pulling him down. "Take me," I demanded, my voice raw. "Just make me forget."

In an instant, I was hoisted off the barstool. Broad shoulders blocked out the lounge lights as they navigated through the exclusive corridor and threw open the heavy doors of a VIP private suite.

"You're reckless tonight, Lydia," Zane growled, his voice a dangerous vibration against my throat as he shoved me back against the velvet sofa.

He didn't wait. His hands gripped the neckline of my anniversary dress, and with one violent tug, the fabric ripped entirely down the front.

"Good," I gasped, the cold air hitting my skin for only a fraction of a second before Kian pinned my wrists above my head. His grip was a steel vice, his lips slamming onto mine with a brutal, bruising force that tasted like scotch and pure possession.

I didn't want gentleness. I wanted to be consumed. I wrenched my hands free from his grip, digging my fingernails hard into his back, pulling him closer. "Harder," I choked out against his mouth, my voice thick with a mix of alcohol and pure, unadulterated rage. "Fucking hurt me. Make me forget his face!"

A dark, lethal growl ripped from Cassian as he stepped up behind the couch, his large hands anchoring tightly onto my waist, dragging my hips back against his hard chest.

The friction was dizzying, overwhelming, and utterly merciless.”You want to forget?" Cassian hissed, his teeth biting into the sensitive skin of my shoulder until I whimpered. "We'll make sure you don't remember your own goddamn name by morning."

The room spun in a chaotic, intoxicating storm of heavy breathing, ripping clothes, and skin slamming violently against skin. Every touch was a demand, every breath a declaration of ownership.

When Zane gripped my jaw, forcing me to look up into his dark, blown-out pupils, I begged him with everything I had left. “Don't stop," I cried out, my hips arching blindly into the heat of all three of them, completely reckless, completely unhinged. "Harder! Give me more!"

They obliged without a single shred of mercy. They traded me between them like a prize, their heavy bodies pinning me down, clouding my mind with an exhausting, fierce intensity that thoroughly burned away every single thought of my pathetic marriage.

I drowned in the relentless, possessive friction, riding the edge of a violent oblivion until the sheer physical exhaustion and the weight of the alcohol finally dragged me down into a pitch-black, dreamless sleep.

The harsh morning light pierced through the heavy curtains, waking me with a pounding headache and alone.

I scrambled out of the massive bed, my heart pounding against my ribs as I looked around the completely empty luxury suite. The sheets were a tangled, sweat-stained mess, and my body was deeply sore, every muscle aching from the fierce, relentless demands of the night before.

Panic seized me, choking the breath right out of my throat. I braced my hands against the mattress, my head spinning as the wild, chaotic memories flashed behind my eyelids.

"Fuck..." I breathed out, a trembling hand flying up to cover my mouth.

I looked at the rumpled pillows, then down at my own bruised skin. My mind raced, desperately trying to find an escape route from reality. Three men? At the same time?

"No. No, this is insane," I muttered, shaking my head violently as I forced myself to stand on weak legs. "I must have been hallucinating. I drank too much. The scotch... Julian's betrayal... it just broke my fucking brain. There's no way that actually happened."

I pulled my ruined clothes on with trembling hands, sneaking back into my house through the garage like a ghost. I locked myself in the guest bathroom, scrubbed my skin until it was red, and put on a high-necked, elegant velvet dress that covered every dark mark and bruise on my body.

By late afternoon, the heavy thud of Julian’s footsteps echoed outside. He threw the door open, completely dressed in his finest designer suit.

"Get downstairs right now," he ordered, his voice sharp and demanding. "The investors just arrived. These are the three most ruthless, multi-billionaire kings in the corporate world. If they don't sign this contract, my company goes under.

You will play the perfect, dutiful host, Lydia. You will smile, you will pour their wine, and you will do whatever it takes to keep them happy. Do you understand me?"

I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing but ice in my veins. "Fine."I followed him down the grand staircase, my heels clicking sharply against the marble.

"Ah, gentlemen! Welcome to my home," Julian called out, his voice instantly shifting into a pathetic, sycophantic cheer.

I stepped into the grand foyer, stopping right beside my husband. I raised my eyes to greet the billionaires and the air was instantly sucked right out of my lungs.

"Lydia," Julian smiled blindly, completely oblivious to the sudden, suffocating tension turning the room to ice. "Let me introduce my new business investors."