Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionare's Pretend Wife: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

I woke in a quiet, dark room with a pounding headache. It took time to regain my bearings, as if I’d been out of my body for a long time. A shadowy figure sat near me. I summoned my strength to stay conscious and noticed a gentle stroking on the back of my hand. Richard.I whispered his name.“Shh. Stay quiet, Thena.” He touched my cheek and pushed my hair away from my face. “Sleep, Thena. I am here.” He kissed my forehead and the back of my hand. “Sleep.”Safe and protected, I slid back into dreamless slumber. Distant sounds of a beeping monitor crept into my awareness, and I realized I must be in a hospital. I heard an occasional phone ringing down the hall and the low, muted drum of rain beating on the window. “Good morning.” Richard’s voice. Then another, more gruff. “How’s my favorite lawyer doing?” Jeff. “Is she awake?”“Not yet,” Richard said from beside me. “Well, I hope they’re taking care of her.”“Believe me, I’m making sure,” Richard said.I let my eyelids flutter

Before heading out of town, Richard took me to Alinea, the restaurant where we first signed our Elements of Engagement contract. For the occasion, I wore a green sundress with a matching pair of Carlos Santana high heels. Because of the heat, I put my hair up. I also wore the diamond-studded collar. Richard ordered for us under candlelight. We had come a long way together. I was grateful for the many things he had helped me overcome. I was glad we had worked together to solve the crimes and glad that Kanji and Travis had been caught. And in the end, we had stood beside each other in our hours of need. I looked around the room. The streamlined décor, marble tabletops, and half-moon wall sconces accented posh elegance. Well-dressed patrons were scattered around the room. At the table next to ours, a woman wore a black silk top and more diamonds than I’d seen in most jewelry store windows. Businessmen in Italian leather shoes strolled to the bar and a trio of celebrity pro basketball p

For the rest of the week we dined in the candlelit dining room overlooking the lake. Grant, Richard’s chef and only household staff, prepared salmon, and other treats with roasted vegetables on the grill, salads with fresh farmers’ market greens and bakery bread. Tonight, we sat on a beach-sized folded towel on the damp porch swing. Richard kept his hands in his lap. It had finally stopped raining, and stars popped out in the sky. The humidity dissolved, and the air smelled of wet vegetation.“Is everything all right?” I asked.“Do you remember the night I gave you the diamond collar?”I did. He’d asked me to wear it at dinner and said there would be consequences if I did not. I leaned over and kissed him. “Yes.”“Why didn’t you wear it tonight?” I shrugged. “I thought you may have tired of it.” Tonight I had deliberately removed the collar. I had to see if he would notice. I longed for the consequences.“I haven’t.”He looked down at his burnt-orange wingtips. His dark orange shirt

Almost two weeks after Travis attacked me, I dreamed about tombstoning. Determined to dive, I made my way forward in a densely overgrown forest. I could barely make out leaves and branches in the dark. I had to get to the cliff before dawn and the sky was lightening. Time was running out. Branches and brush scraped my arms and legs. I climbed as quickly as I could. Yet the faster I moved, the heavier my arms became. My legs grew stiff, and my feet stuck to the ground. Slowly, slowly, I pushed the last branch aside to reveal the cliff’s edge. On the horizon, black water met dark orange sky. I crawled toward the edge, aware that I was not alone. Children’s voices—screams—came from nearby. I looked behind me and side to side. No, the voices were coming from below. Lying on my belly, I peered over the cliff and looked down. Three young girls stood on a ledge ten or twenty feet below. The youngest who was about twelve screamed. She seemed terrified. The other two consoled her, and I judg

The orange Chicago skyline glowed like fires burning in the distance. The sun hadn’t yet gone down on the sizzling summer evening. In Richard Mackenzie’s Lake Forest mansion, I closed the floor-to-ceiling curtains of the luxurious first-floor bedroom windows then lit two candles. I dabbed on tinted lip-gloss and stripped off every bit of clothing, then fastened tightly around my neck the diamond-studded collar that Richard, my lover, had given me weeks ago. Earlier, I’d printed out the document written by Richard: the Elements of Submission contract which described the relationship I was about to dive into with him. I’d taken two days to read it. Two days to read my lover. The contract outlined consensual sex play between a dominant and submissive. It listed sadistic pleasures to be given or received, including the acts of piercing and tattooing, caning, and nipple torture. Invasive devices—gags and anal plugs—were among the toys listed in the contract. Richard asked me to check off