THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption

BETTY.I stand frozen as the casket is being lowered into the ground, the dull thud of earth hitting wood echoing through the cold air.I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel right now. Because it’s all there, twisting and burning inside me: grief, regret, heartbreak, and mostly anger.He couldn’t even spare a few minutes to be here. To help me bury my mother.A gentle squeeze pulls me back to the present, and I glance down only to see her—my heart, my only reason to live, my little Grace.Her small fingers wrap around mine, her green eyes so much like mine staring up, full of worry I wish she’d never have to carry.“Mommy, are you okay? Is Daddy coming?” she asks, her tiny voice soft and innocent.My throat tightens, and for a moment I can’t breathe, so I take a shaky step back from the grave, my vision blurring.“No, baby,” I mutter, forcing a small smile. “Not today.”I then lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, her little arms wrapping around my waist, grounding me.Around u

BETTYAfter spending hours in Harriette’s rose garden, letting the quiet settle into the cracks of my chest, I finally force myself to head inside.Harriette left earlier, and her soft warning still echoes in my ears, so I stayed behind, pretending the roses could hold me together a little longer.I walk back into the manor slowly, and I find the hallways empty, the lights around the house dim, meaning everyone must have retired by now.I go up the stairs, taking my time, each step heavier than the last, and make my way to Grace’s room, my hand hesitating for a breath before I push the door open.I freeze when I find Nathaniel sitting on the edge of her bed, sleeves rolled up, a storybook open in his hands.His head is tilted toward her, and I watch as he softly tucks a curl behind her ear and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before whispering, “I love you, baby girl.”Grace smiles in her sleep, and something in my heart cracks open, making me let go of the doorknob, but it creaks

BETTYStanding in front of the full-length mirror in my room, I stare at the silver sequin gown Harriette sent earlier with a note that read, Wear this tonight.The gown is beautiful, and it’s hugging me in all the right places.For a moment, I almost don’t recognize myself. My waist looks smaller, my figure elegant, making me look like I belong, but when I lift my gaze to my reflection, the illusion fades.Even with the makeup, my face looks pale and tired, like I haven’t slept in days. And the truth is, I haven’t. Not since I heard Nathaniel in his office, saying things no wife should ever hear.I still can’t get his words out of my head, and every time my eyes close, I hear his voice. “I don’t love her. I will never love anyone as i loved you.”My hands tighten around the edge of the dresser, taking a deep breath, forcing myself to look up at my reflection again.“I wish I didn’t have to go downstairs,” I mutter out loud to myself.It’s Harriette’s birthday tonight, and she’s the

BETTYI squint my eyes, completely thrown off by this stranger standing in front of me.“Did you just say you’re Batman?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to mask the confusion twisting in my stomach.He smiles — and it’s ridiculous how beautiful it is. It’s those kinds of smiles that feel practiced yet disarming, the kind that could melt through walls.For a fleeting second, I think of Nathaniel and how he has that same kind of smile, but it has never been directed to me.“Mmh,” he hums, raising an eyebrow, and for some reason, that tiny gesture sends warmth crawling up my neck.Did I just blush? What the hell. I was crying only minutes ago.I straighten my shoulders, forcing my voice to steady. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, maybe you’ll be more comfortable telling the security.”I step around him to make my way back to the house, but he moves just as quickly and blocks my path.I bump into his chest, and the impact sends a shiver down my spine, because da

BETTYThe first thing I feel when I wake up is pain, and not the dull kind. It’s a sharp, pounding one that makes me feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my skull.I groan, opening my eyes slowly, and I lean back against the headboard, pressing my fingers to my temple, rubbing in slow circles.“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “This is what I get for indulging in champagne.”It’s been years since I’ve drunk like that — six to be exact.The last time I drank was the night I woke up beside a billionaire, with no memory of how it had happened, and my entire life changed before I even had the chance to breathe.That morning, I’d sworn I’d never again. And yet, last night, at Harriette’s birthday, I caved.I shove the blanket away and swing my legs over the bed, the floor cold beneath my feet.“I need aspirin,” I whisper to myself, dragging my night robe over my shoulders, tying the sash around my waist loosely.The house is quiet, the air thick with the aftertaste of perfum