Seven Years A Fool, Now Worshipped By The Billionaire Tycoon

Chapter 1- A blast from the past

McKenzie Westfield.

“What the hell, Alex?!”

A visceral scream tore from the depths of my soul as I walked in on my husband in the middle of an orgy, in our dead children's room.

On our dead children's bed!

A violent wave of shock slammed into me with force, knocking the air from my lungs.

My vision tunneled.

My strength failed me at once, and I found myself stumbling back.

My eyes locked onto him in utter disbelief.

Today was the 21st of October, the one day of the year I had always dreaded—the anniversary of our twins’ death.

Alexander was supposed to be at the cemetery, placing flowers on our twins’ graves. That was the last thing he told me when he called thirty minutes ago.

But his cheeks were getting clapped by Mr Quinn, his closest friend and business partner, while he gagged on Matt's cock, the same man who used to present us Best Couple awards on Founder's Day.

A heavy thud hit the cold floor at once. It was me.

The first person I saw was Alex, my husband. But I swear, there was something odd about his grey eyes. They were cold, dead inside. It was as if I was seeing a different person.

“I thought you were…” he paused. His lifeless eyes locked onto mine as if expecting me to figure out the rest of his words.

His voice held more of surprise than remorse.

As CEO of my publishing house, I was supposed to be out of state representing the company at a summit, but the flights were canceled due to bad weather and the event got postponed.

Instead of heading to the cemetery, I decided to spend some time alone in the house to pull myself together, only to be met with the filthy sight of the man I had called husband for seven years.

Except that can't be my husband.

Alex was perfect.

He never looked at anyone else except for me.

He doesn't even like men!

He was homophobic.

But my eyes weren't deceiving me; he was sandwiched between two men. Does that mean he was…gay? As in DL?

Fuck, no!

My Alex wasn't gay. He was probably still in the cemetery waiting for me, just like he told me.

Whoever this was…was an imposter wearing my husband's face.

“Kenzie, get back here!” A familiar masculine voice penetrated the air. I could tell he was close.

I watched Mr Quinn's creamy cock slide out of my husband's hole. I took a step back as he jumped from the bed and ran toward me, stepping on the daisy bouquet and stuffed animals that he was supposed to place on our twins’ graves.

“No!” I screamed in refusal, gathering myself from the floor despite my body still vibrating from the aftermath of shock. I dashed out of the house before he could chase after me.

“Get me out of here, Tim!” I yelled at my driver as I slipped into the backseat. I threw one last glance at the window upstairs, and I caught Alex's silhouette, watching as we zoomed out of the front yard.

None of this made sense. I kept telling myself as every detail of the obscene sight replayed in my head.

This man had stood by me for seven solid years. He was my biggest supporter career-wise.

From the first day when he rescued me from being robbed on a dark, lonely road when my car broke down, he had been head over heels.

He didn't care that I was 20 and he was 42. He didn't even let people's opinion get to him.

He had been an amazing husband and father, and for seven years, our union was an epitome of marital bliss. Aside from winning six Best Couple awards on Founder's Day in both our former and current neighbourhoods, Dawnwood and Oakcrest, we were also seen as marriage counselors.

To even think that he consoled me on the way to the airport when I felt bad that the summit would make me skip the anniversary of our children's death.

So what went wrong?

How could this perfect man engage in an orgy with his closest friend, our cleaner, Matt, and Tyler, the guy who came with his girlfriend for counseling?

The car slowed as we arrived at the cemetery. I rushed out, hoping to the universe that I was wrong.

He had to be here with Zara and Sebastian.

“Don't wait for me.” My voice cracked as I tried to blink back my tears.

As soon as he turned to leave, I dashed into the cemetery, running as fast as my weak legs could carry me, and only stopping at the spot where Zara and Sebastian lay to rest.

Hoping. Praying. That I'd see Alex waiting for me.

Except everything was odd.

Something was missing.

Alex. The daisy flowers. The stuffed animals. Their favourite toys. Alex.

I froze on the spot as I fought myself hard not to accept the truth.

But it was already glaring.

The imposter at my former house was indeed Alex.

I sniffed, once, twice, until I could no longer hold back my tears.

My cries were raw. The torture was suffocating.

Alex.

Or was this a fever dream?

What did I do to deserve this?

How could he do that to me?

He knew how their deaths drove me to the edge of suicide. It was the reason we left Dawnwood for Oakcrest, as everything reminded me of the ugly incident.

The only times I returned to Dawnwood were days when the grief became too heavy to carry. For years, the house had been my sanctuary, yet he desecrated it because of some weird fantasy, throwing away even freaking years of togetherness.

My head lowered as my shoulders jerked with every hard sob.

What happened to the vows? What happened to being the perfect couple? The soon-to-be marriage counselors in the neighbourhood.

Was he suddenly tired? Did I do something wrong? Did something possess him? Was he experiencing some sort of midlife crisis?

My weight rested on my knees as my mouth parted to release a scream. But nothing came out.

God, I needed to scream, or I might die.

I thought being with an older man guaranteed loyalty. But it turns out they were all the same.

All men were trash!

Slowly, I crawled over to the space between Zara and Sebastian's graves and placed my palm on them.

“I'm sorry, Zara.” I apologized amid tears, grabbing a handful of granite.

“Forgive me, Sebastian.”

My chest tightened so hard, I nearly choked on my tears.

I didn't care about the onlookers; I needed my kids to forgive me.

I had hurt them by giving them a father like Alex, who desecrated their space. A father who prefers to shove cocks down his holes instead of spending time at his children's graves.

What kind of father engages in an orgy in his children's room?

To even think that he never visited that house. Or maybe he had. It was impossible to trust him at this point.

“Forgive me, please.”

For the next few hours, those were the only words I repeated. I didn't know what else to say. I couldn't even look at them.

I remained on all fours, bawling my eyes out as my tears fell on the soil.

I didn't get up when the clouds turned dark. Neither did I get up when thunder and lightning ripped through the dark clouds, shaking the ground I knelt on.

I couldn't even feel my body anymore. I felt like I was lifeless, like an empty shell.

When the rain descended mercilessly on me, I remained still like a statue.

I knew staying in the rain would make me sick, but I didn't dare to even move an inch.

I wanted Zara and Sebastian's forgiveness.

All of a sudden, the rain pouring on me stopped. It was strange because it was still raining heavily.

My eyes finally parted in irritation as I clenched my jaw.

Damn that nosy groundskeeper. I knew he was worried about me, but couldn't he see that I wanted to be alone?

“Go away!” My dry, weak voice was swallowed by the rain.

My breathing was uneven, and my teeth chattered nonstop as the cold bit into my exposed skin.

Leave me alone, please.

“Really, Princess?”

At the sound of the deep masculine voice, my heart skipped two beats.

Suddenly, the cracking of the thunder stopped. Even the loud rain sound quietened.

Princess.

That was a nickname only the two most important people in my life referred to me as: my late mother, and my…my first love.

No way!

We cut ties seven years ago. He can't possibly know where I was.

To clear my doubt, I tilted my head to the side as I was too exhausted to even stand on my feet.

As if on cue, lightning ripped through the sky, sending a flash of bright light to illuminate the masculine figure’s face.

That was when I saw him clearly.

Kingston Ravencrest.

My first love. My childhood sweetheart.

“Hello, Princess.”