The billionaire's Feud

Iris POV

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I stared at the other side of the bed, it was empty and void which was were Nich should have been. My fingers running over the wrinkled sheets, he never came home last night. No text, no call. Nothing.

A knot tightened in my stomach as I reached for my phone on the nightstand 6:40am. Today was supposed to be special, our first wedding anniversary I was waking up alone on my bedside without Nich by my side to wish each other *Happy wedding anniversary*.

I dailed his number. The phone rang once twice….then went to voicemail.

“Hello, you've reached Nicholas’s cell phone, please leave a message.” A loud beep follows the voice and I instantly end the call, sighing heavily.

I clenched my jaw. “Nich, where are you?” My voice came out shakier than I wanted “call me back. Please.” I sent the voicemail to him.

I call again receiving the same voicemail, I ended the call and exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. Maybe there was a simple explanation. Maybe he got caught up with work. Maybe he had some grand surprise planned out for me and I was just overthinking everything filling myself with a mixture of fear and anxiety.

Nich always come home. Even when he worked late, he'd send a message and he knew how much today meant to me just disappeared. Would he? I asked myself.

I remove the bed cover from myself and tossed it aside as I got out of bed wrapping my arms around myself as I walked to the windows. The city outside was already awake, car honking, people rushing, life moving in but my world felt stuck, suspended in the silence of his absence.

I tried his number again. Straight to voicemail again.

This wasn't normal, I checked the time again, now it was 7:30am.

A wave of unease washed over me. Something was wrong but I keep easing myself with good thought.

I moved through the morning on autopilot. Shower, dress, make-up every step felt mechanical,like my body was going through the motions while my kind spiraled with worry.

Nich still hadn't called back.

I checked my phone for the tenth time, hoping to see his name flash across the screen of my phone. Nothing.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to focus. I had work. A presentation to give. A team to manage. I couldn't afford to fall apart just yet.

Before leaving to my office, I made my way to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Nich favorite red wine, a Bordeaux he'd been saving for a special occasion. I placed it, still sealed, on the center table in the sitting room.

I grabbed a notepad from the counter, I say down and let the word flow.

*“Happy Anniversary, my love.

I don't know where you're, but I hope you're fine. I wanted today to start with us together but no matter what, I want you to know that I love you.

Forever your, iris”*

I set the note beside the bottle, smoothening the paper as my fingers lingered over his name. A part of me wanted to stay to wait, to not leave the house until I saw him walk through that door. But another part of me, the national one knew I couldn't put my life on pause, not even for this.

With one last glance at the table, I grabbed my purse, squared my shoulders and headed for the door.

“Nich would have to explain himself eventually. And I would be here waiting”

I barely remembered the drive to work. One moment I was stepping out of my apartment, and the next I was pushing through the glass door of Weston & Co my firm logo gleaming under the morning light.

People greeted me as I walked in, but my responded were mechanical, smiles that I didn't reached my eyes, nods that barely registered. My head wasn't here. It was back home, by that unopened bottle of wine. Waiting for Nich to retain.

I sat at my desk and tried to focus. Emails, spreadsheet, the pending client reports I stared at them, but the words together, my fingers hovered over the keyboard motionless.

“Iris?” the voice called.

I snapped out of my thoughts to see Cecilia, my best friend and co-worker standing beside my desk, she had that knowing look in her eyes, the ones that said she'd been watching me for a while.

“You okay ?” She asked, arms crossed.

I hesitated, debating whether to brush it off. But this was Cecilia. She'd see right through me.

I sighed. “Nich didn't come home last night.”

Her brow shot up “what?” She pulled up a chair “ are you serious? No calls?, no text?. what about you both anniversary”?.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, rubbing my temples. “And today's our first anniversary, Cecilia I haven't heard from him.”

Cecilia lips pressed into a thin line. “That's not like him.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I don't want to overthink, but something doesn't feel right. He's never done this before.”

She reached for my hand squeezing it. “Did you check with his coffee? Maybe he got caught up in something?”

“Not yet.” I exhaled. “I don't want to sound like a paranoid wife. But I left him a note and his favourite wine. I just ….” My voice cracked, and I looked away. “I just hope he comes home.”

Cecilia was quiet for a moment, then said, do you want to go look for him? We can.

“Miss Carter.” The voice called me by my surname.

I turned at the sound of my boss voice, Mr Weston I can recognize the voice even from a noisy place. He stood by my desk, his sharp eyes studying me.

“ I appreciate your dedication,” he said, “but your mind is clearly elsewhere.” He glanced at Cecilia then back at me. “Take the day off. Go celebrate your anniversary.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “ No argument. Go”

Cecilia grinned. “You heard him. Go get your man.”

I hesitated, then nod.

“Cecilia would help with your presentation, send her your swipe files” Mr Weston order relieving me from the stress of work.

Grabbing my bag, I gave Cecilia a grateful look and hug her. “Thank you”

As I walked out of my office, a new resolved settled in me. “If Nich wouldn't come to me, I'd go to him”

The drive home was a blur, my finger were tense around the steering wheel, my heart, a restless drum in my chest. Maybe Nich had finally returned, maybe there was an explanation waiting for me.

But as I stepped through the front door, I knew something was wrong.

The house was eerily quiet, yet heavy with an unfamiliar presence.

Then my eyes fell on the coffee table, there was two glass cups on the table instead of one but the wine I left there was no more to be seen.

The bottle of wine I left for Nich was on the floor now emptied. My note was nowhere in sight.

A chill ran through me.

That's when I saw it.

A bag. A sleek, leather purse sitting causally on the armchair. Not mine. A woman .

I took a step back, my pulse hammering. My mind tired to rationalize, maybe a friend stopped by, maybe Nich brought his coworkers home.

Then I heard it.

A sound so raw, so unmistakably intimate, it sent ice through my veins.

Moaning.

Not just moaning, the sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing, desperate, reckless pleasure. it is what I'm thinking or my mind is overthinking.......