The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back

NOVA

I checked the time on the wall clock, heaving in disappointment. Why wasn't he back home? It was late enough. Sighing, I got up from the sofa, and paced the floor, occasionally twirling my lustrous blonde hair. I was unable to contain my excitement despite the disappointment. Today happened to be our second wedding anniversary, and I have wonderful news for my husband. One I couldn't wait to share with him.

I had just sat down on a loveseat when I heard his car drive into the property.

The sound of the door opening caused me to rise. Despite my anger at him returning late, I placed a smile on my face. At least he remembered to return home to me.

Dashiell staggered into the sitting room and tossed his suitcase on the floor. His jacket was nowhere to be found, and his shirt was unbuttoned, almost to the fifth one.

He looked towards me, his emerald eyes burning with a ferocity I knew too much. He was drunk.

“Welcome back,” I said with a forced smile as I walked towards him. Dashiell was a handsome man. Hell, he was named the most handsome man in the country of all time. His emerald eyes and beautiful raven-black hair made him exceptional. That was one thing I admired about him. Especially his hair. I loved how soft they were to run my fingers through. Though I only did that whenever he was asleep — I sneaked up on him when he was sleeping in the parlour.

“Bitch,” he spat, as he closed the distance between us. His eyes were narrowed.

I ignored his remark as I stepped forward.  “I have something —”

A yelp left my throat when he yanked me towards him, with his hand wrapped tightly around my wrist.

I gulped in fear as my heart pounded in my chest. I lost all coherency as he lifted me. Without him saying a word, I knew what he wanted. This wasn't the first time.

He hoisted me up the stairs, to my room, and tossed me on the bed. I bounced on it, almost falling to the ground.

“Dashiell,” I called his name, gulping as I watched him shed his clothes.  “I have something I need to tell you.”

“But I don't fucking wish to hear any of them!” Growling, he got on the bed.  “You will be the docile wife you are supposed to be, and open your damned legs for me, won't you?”

He wasn't asking. We have been here countless times. He never needed to ask my permission before doing something like that.

I gulped. I wanted to refuse, to tell him I wasn't in the mood, but I didn't. Swallowing, I laid back on the bed, letting him know he could do whatever he wished. If this made him happy, then so be it.

He didn't wait anymore as he ripped the gown. I bit back the tears that threatened to fall as the dress I saved for was destroyed like it was nothing. My panties were the next he tore.

“Look at me, Nova,” he growled out.

Sniffing, I forced my eyes to return to him as he raised my legs and placed them on his shoulders. I tried not to wince when he forcefully entered, telling myself this was for his pleasure.

My family ingrained it in my memory ever since I was a kid. I had no say in this. I was just a woman. A toy for a man. His pleasure was all that mattered.

Dashiell was rougher tonight. I could feel his anger. He didn't hold back, and I paid dearly for it.

Tears streamed down my eyes as I begged him to slow down. But he didn't hear that. He was far gone in whatever he was battling with, to pay me any need.

And all I could do was to lie there and receive it all, telling myself it was for his happiness.

After all, I had nowhere to go. He was my husband, and I was his wife. My duty was to him. Whatever he wanted, I would give him. As long as it was within my power to do so.

“Fuck!” He groaned as he climaxed, shooting his load into me.

Gasping, he slid his dick out of my pussy without waiting for me to finish. It wasn't the first time, though. Hell, I never got to attain any satisfaction from this aside from the first time we slept together a year ago.

Groaning, he pulled up from the bed and started dressing, not sparing a glance at me. It was obvious he was done with me. Leaving was the next thing. After all, we never slept in the same bed. He always fucked me in my room, and after that, he would return to his. That was how it had always been.

Wincing, I sat up on the bed and covered my body with the blanket as I watched.

“Dashiell, there's something I need to tell you,” I whispered. My voice was sore from all the screaming I did, which was why I tried to speak as softly as I could, knowing I might hurt it more should I speak normally.

He turned to look at me. Scowling as if we had a feud with each other.

Glaring, he picked up his shirt and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Gulping, I stared, too stunned to react.

I was barely wrapping my head around what had just happened when the door opened once more and he stepped in.

My face broke out into a smile as I watched him approach the bed, believing he had returned so he could hear what I had to say, only for the smile to vanish when he tossed a paper on the bed.

Puzzled, I reached for it, gasping when I saw what it was. A freaking divorce paper. Shocked, I glanced up at him, wondering what was happening. "Why... What's..."

“Sign that before I come back from work tomorrow.” His tone was detached. Cold as ever. I was used to it. But at the moment, it felt like my heart was about to give out.

“Why?” I could only manage that word before I broke down completely.

“I don't owe you an explanation, Nova. Sign the fucking papers before I return tomorrow.” With those heartless words he said, he left my room, slamming the door shut behind him.