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63: The Moment She Came Back
Last Updated:
2025-03-05 23:29:57
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Married To The Billionaire I Hate 64: Never Leaving
Emily's POV.Warm hands. A steady touch. The scent of him all around me.Cole.I should’ve known he wouldn’t leave my side.My eyes were open, but I wasn’t fully here. Everything felt distant, like I was floating between reality and something else. Something darker. My body ached, my throat raw, my mind trapped in an endless loop of what had happened.Vanessa.The gun.She had pulled the trigger.But there was no bullet.I had been strong. Strong enough that Leon let me go.I could still hear the echo of the shot, feel the coldness of the floor, the way my body had braced for pain that never came. It was like I had left a part of myself in that room. A part I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back.A shudder ran through me, my fingers twitching slightly under the heavy weight of exhaustion. My body felt foreign, as if I wasn’t fully connected to it, like I was trapped in the space between past and present. The memories were still too fresh, pressing against the edges of my mind, threatening to
Last Updated : 2025-03-05Married To The Billionaire I Hate 65: The Whole World Knows
Emily’s POV.The morning air was still, thick with an eerie quiet that made my skin prickle. The scent of something warm drifted in from the kitchen, faint but noticeable…eggs, maybe toast. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t really paying attention. My mind was elsewhere, caught in the endless storm that refused to die down in my head.The television was on, its dull glow the only source of movement in the slightly dark living room. The low voices of the newscasters filled the space, the sound blending into the silence like background noise.I sat curled up on the couch, a thick duvet wrapped tightly around me. My fingers gripped the soft fabric, knuckles turning white as I held onto it like it was the only thing tethering me to reality. It was warm, comforting, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.Cole had left me here, just for a moment, after dismissing the servants for the day. He had been fussing over me since last night, refusing to let anyone else take care of me. He was
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Cole's POV.My entire body burned with fury. Vanessa had done this. She had sent men to kidnap my wife. She had starved her, tied her up, held her captive for days. And then she had stood there with a gun aimed at Emily’s head, ready to end her life without a second thought.I had known Vanessa was ruthless, but this? This was beyond anything I could have imagined.My breathing was harsh, uneven. My fists clenched so tight that my nails dug into my skin. The thought of Emily, tied up and helpless, her body weak from hunger, her throat dry from thirst…rage shot through me like wildfire. I wanted to find Vanessa and destroy her with my own two hands. No court, no police, no trials. Just me and her, and all the pain she deserved.I had sent men after Vanessa the second Emily told me everything. Every single one of my resources had been mobilized. I had contacts all over the world…private investigators, ex-military men, underground connections. I wasn’t just some businessman; I had power,
Last Updated : 2025-03-05Married To The Billionaire I Hate 67: Fall From Grace
Vanessa's POV.The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke and artificial air freshener, the kind that barely masked the stench of cheap liquor and desperation. The fluctuating light above me buzzed faintly, with an ugly yellow glow over the peeling wallpaper. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me, making it impossible to think straight. The mattress beneath me was stiff, the sheets rough against my skin, but I hadn’t moved in hours.My fingers gripped the cracked edges of my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned bone white. My breath was uneven, my pulse hammering violently in my throat.Emily was free.The news was everywhere…blaring from TV screens, flooding social media, plastered across every major headline.Emily Greyson has been rescued.Emily Greyson speaks out for the first time.Cole Greyson’s wife has returned.It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me, like I was free-falling into an abyss with no way to stop. My chest tightened, my hear
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Vanessa's POV.I needed food. Toiletries. Something to keep me going.The hunger gnawed at my stomach, a sharp, unrelenting ache that had been growing for hours. My body felt weak, my limbs heavy, but my mind was sharp…too sharp. Every noise made my skin crawl. Every shadow felt like a threat. I couldn't stay locked up in this room forever.I pulled the hoodie over my head, adjusting it low enough to hide most of my face. Dark shades, a black cap, and a scarf wrapped loosely around my neck…it wasn’t a perfect disguise, but it would have to do. I stared at myself in the dusty motel mirror, tightening the strings of my hoodie. It was strange seeing myself like this…hiding like a fugitive. But then again, that’s exactly what I was now.My fingers trembled as I grabbed my small bag, shoving the last of my stolen cash into my pocket. I took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped toward the door, pressing my ear again
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Vanessa's POV.The cold night air burned my lungs as I sprinted down the sidewalk, weaving through the scattered groups of pedestrians. My legs ached, my pulse hammered, and a sharp stitch stabbed at my ribs, but I didn’t slow down.I couldn’t.I had to keep moving.The neon lights of a convenience store fluctuated up ahead…a dull, buzzing glow against the darkened street. My stomach twisted painfully. Food. Water. Toiletries. I needed them if I was going to survive the next twenty-four hours.I pushed open the glass door, and the sharp chime of the bell above rang out, cutting through the pounding in my ears.Inside, the store was okay, the air stale with the scent of floor cleaner and cheap snacks. A few customers milled about, their footsteps soft against the linoleum. I kept my head low, tugging my hoodie down further, adjusting my shades.In and out.That was the plan.I grabbed a small basket and moved toward the shelves, forcing myself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way my ha
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Vanessa's POV.The car ride was suffocatingly silent, except for the low hum of the engine and the faint sound of my own breath, coming out unsteady. I could still feel the weight of people's stares, the shock of recognition flashing in their eyes as I fled from the store. My pulse was still erratic, the adrenaline refusing to leave my system.I clutched the sleeves of my hoodie, my knuckles white as I kept myself pressed against the door. The man beside me, my so-called savior, hadn’t spoken a word. His jaw was tense, and the sharp cut of his profile flickered in and out of the streetlights as we sped through the city. He had saved me. But I had no idea why.When he finally pulled into a small, dark garage, the unease coiled tighter in my stomach. I turned to him as he shut off the engine, my voice sharp and hoarse.“Why the fuck are you helping me?”His fingers flexed on the steering wheel before he finally turned his head toward me, his expression unreadable.“I saw the news,” he a
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Emily’s POVDaniel’s voice was steady as he delivered the report. “Vanessa was spotted at a motel in Denver last night. Someone recognized her and tipped off the authorities, but by the time they got there, she was gone. Surveillance footage shows her running down the alley behind the motel. She changed clothes, went into a convenience store, and tried to blend in, but another customer recognized her.”I sat up straighter, my fingers tightening around the armrest of the couch. “And?”“She ran again,” Daniel continued. “She stole a car and ditched it outside the city. Her photos are everywhere now. Even in disguise, people are recognizing her. She’s desperate, and she’s running out of places to hide.”I exhaled slowly, my jaw locking. My pulse thudded in my ears. Vanessa was slipping through the cracks, but not for long. She was panicked, making mistakes. It was only a matter of time before she got caught, and when she did, I wanted to be the first to watch them put her behind bars.I
Last Updated : 2025-03-06
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Married To The Billionaire I Hate 139: Playing The Perfect Wife
Stevie-lou's POV.The honeymoon ended faster than it started.Smith had to get back to work, back to his throne at Hart Enterprise, where a single misstep meant losing billions and every shark in the water smelled blood. And me? I got a front-row seat to the life I’d only ever seen in dreams. Luxury. Power. Diamonds for breakfast, pearls for lunch. All wrapped in Smith’s smile like I was the luckiest woman alive."I have a surprise for you," he said one evening, stepping into the penthouse still in his tailored navy suit, tie loosened, phone glued to his hand.I looked up from the couch, brushing popcorn crumbs off my robe. "Another one?"He gave a crooked grin. "You're going to want to put on shoes for this."Ten minutes later, we were downstairs, and the valet drove up something that looked like it belonged in a superhero movie. A Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Black. Gleaming. Worth about $19 million."Holy sh*t," I gasped, my mouth hanging open.Smith just chuckled, handed me the keys,
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 138: Fever Dreams And Silk Lies
Smith's POV.My head was pounding.Not the kind of pounding that comes from a few glasses of wine or a late night, but the kind that makes your whole skull feel like it's cracking open from the inside. It throbbed with each breath I took, like a drum beating in my ears. I groaned, forcing my eyes open even though my lids felt like sandpaper. Everything was too damn bright. The curtains weren’t even drawn. Just a wide-open window to the Miami skyline, pouring sunlight into the suite like it had no mercy.I sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. My suit was still on me...wrinkled, sweaty, uncomfortable. Jacket half-off my shoulders. Tie loosened, hanging around my neck like a noose. My shirt was half unbuttoned and sticking to my chest. My mouth tasted like cotton. My tongue felt thick. I looked around, trying to focus through the haze."Petunia?" I croaked.And then I saw her.She was sleeping like a dream beside me. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillow like silk threads, her mouth
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 137: Not Your Typical Honeymoon
Stevie-lou’s POV.The presidential suite smelled like roses and expensive linen. The suite was bathed in low, warm lighting, gold accents reflecting off glass. Smith had his hand on my waist the moment the door shut behind us."God, Petunia…" he whispered against my neck, his voice thick with emotion and desire. "I’ve waited so long for this night. I’m losing my damn mind."I forced a laugh, soft and shy, the way I knew he liked. “We’re married now,” I said, tilting my head, brushing my fingers through his thick hair. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”His lips crushed against mine, hungry and possessive. He backed me up against the wall, kissing like a man who had been starving for years. His hands fumbled with the zipper of my dress, but I gently stopped him, brushing my fingers over his.“Not so fast,” I murmured. “Let me get us something to drink. You look like you need to relax first.”He grinned, flushed and breathless, hair slightly tousled. “Fine. But hurry.”I turned away, gli
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 136: The Wedding Trap
Stevie-Lou's POVThe thing about revenge is that it tastes better slow. You let it simmer. You add sugar, lies, soft kisses. You let the man believe he’s safe, loved, maybe even saved. And then you pull the rug.Smith Hart thought he found the one. He really did. And I played that part with the kind of grace that would make Oscar winners cry.I watched him now, standing at the altar. Tall, powerful, in his black tux that probably cost more than what my dad needed for his surgery. A fucking heart transplant. One point three million dollars. Just that. And Smith had it. Sitting in one of his fat accounts, probably bored. But when my father needed him, he refused to help."Not my problem," he said.My father died a week later. Gasping for air in a hospital room that smelled like antiseptic and poverty.So here I was. Petunia Monroe. Orphan. Some perfect ballet dancer that Smith Hart fell in love with. Sweet. Charming. Smart. Mysterious.His fiancée.I had already let my real mother fly
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 135: Meeting The Family
Smith's POV.Emily poured herself another glass of red wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling in the glass as she tilted it to her lips. Her reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, and her keen eyes skimmed over the pages of a thick manuscript...some up-and-coming author her publishing house had just signed. She looked so at ease in her cozy Hamptons home, legs tucked beneath her on the wide cream armchair, elegant in a charcoal turtleneck and worn jeans. The streaks of silver in her shoulder-length brown hair shone under the golden afternoon light that filtered through the tall windows. Outside, the trees swayed gently, leaves rustling in the wind, and inside, the fireplace crackled, throwing warm, flickering shadows across the Persian rug and soft cream walls."You’ve been awfully quiet," she said, her voice was calm but laced with suspicion, still not looking up. "Either you're hiding something, or you’re about to fire someone again."I leaned back on the opposite couch,
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 134: The Sweetest Lie
Stevie-lou's POV.He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear again, like he always did when we were out together. A signature move. A gentle caress that screamed affection to anyone watching. And I smiled up at him, letting my eyes soften just the way he liked. My lashes lowered, lips parting slightly, the faintest curve playing at the corners of my mouth. I’d perfected it.I hated the way my skin tingled under his touch...not because I wanted him, hell no...but because I was so damn good at pretending, I could fool even my own body. It betrayed me every time, responding to his closeness like a lover’s would. It made my stomach turn."You look beautiful tonight, Petunia," Smith said, his voice low and deliberate, fingers brushing the small of my back like he owned me."You always say that," I teased, brushing my fingers lightly along his wrist, my nails just grazing his skin."Because it’s always true."His eyes held mine a second too long, just enough to tell me what was coming. His ga
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 133: Red Wine And Reckless First Kiss
Smith’s POV.It had been days.And I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.Petunia Monroe.That name had stuck in my brain like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. Everywhere I turned, she was there. Not physically. But in my head. In meetings. In the boardroom while numbers were being thrown around, projections, investments, power plays…I saw her face. The way she tilted her head. The way her eyes held mine when we spoke.I had tried to fuck her out of my system. Tried it with a blonde influencer who kept giggling every time I so much as looked her way. Then with a brunette who knew how to moan on cue and say all the right things. Nothing. It all felt like cardboard. Cold. Pointless.She was still there. Her black feathered leotard, the way it hugged her body like it was made for her. That ballet performance wasn’t just art…it was a goddamn message. I didn’t know what it said, but I felt it like a slap to the chest.And I couldn’t stop playing it in my head.During dinner, seated alone at m
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 132: His Eyes, Her Mask
Stevie-lou’s POV.My heart was still racing as I wiped the sweat off my forehead. That performance had eaten me raw. Every muscle in my body was still vibrating. The black feathered leotard I wore...designed with precision and attitude...hugged my skin like a second layer, still warm from the heat of the spotlight. I felt it in my bones. The music. The rhythm. The eyes. Especially his.I had seen the way Smith Hart looked at me.He was far back in the dark hall but there was no missing the way he leaned forward during the dance. The others might’ve been sipping their drinks, whispering among themselves or pretending to care, but not him. Smith Hart had been watching like I was the only thing moving in that whole damn room. His stare cut through the air, bold and direct, as if he had seen something in me nobody else had. It shook me a little. Not because I cared. But because I knew exactly who he was...and I despised everything he stood for.The man was ruthless. Sharp-suited, sharp-to
