All Chapters of BILLION WORTH WIFE: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Alex..Mr. Watson had left the house. The shards of the broken plates glittered on the floor like the shards of our shattered expectations. My mother and I sat on the opposite end of the long table. Mia was on the left side of the table, her eyes still on her fingers as she fidgeted with them. The air was thick, and the aroma of food couldn’t lighten the mood.“What are we going to do now?” My mother let out a heavy sigh. She glared at Mia before facing me. “Now, we are back to square one.” She slaps her hand on the table before biting her nail. The smacking sound filled the air, causing Mia to flinch as though my mother was about to hit her.I continued to sip on my whiskey. What weighed on my mind now was getting rid of Mia. My mother rose and walked towards me. She dropped in the seat beside me, settling on my left. She furled her hands around my forearm. “This is why we can’t let anyone know the child doesn’t belong to you.” My mother’s brows lowered. “They might even think you

Alex..I descended the three-step stairs that connected the entryway to the living room. A frown etched across my face, one that had refused to leave since Uncle Niall came this morning. I left for work before he arrived and mother had taken Mia somewhere to avoid my uncle from asking her questions. “Wipe that frown off your face.” My mother flipped through the magazine that rested on her thighs. “You don’t want him thinking you hate him.” My mother gazed at me beneath her lashes.Tossing my business bag on the floor, I dropped on the sofa. I snorted; I hadn't seen him, yet a stinging sensation had already made a home in my stomach. “Have you talked to Mia?” I loosened my red tie and tossed it on the sofa. “That she needs to avoid him at all costs." I zeroed in on my mother, who seemed more indulged in the magazine than the matter on the ground.Uncle Niall had this gift of asking simple and random questions and getting important information. “I have talked to her, and she is in

Alex ..It’s been four days since Uncle Niall arrived, and the air in the house didn’t seem to get any lighter. He was always in places he shouldn't be—my father’s room that no one had entered since he died, my father’s favorite gazebo in the far corner of the property, that it felt forgotten, the study room that missed my father’s presence—Uncle Niall was everywhere like he was trying to rewrite my father’s existence with his.Stepping into the entryway, my mother's sobs slipped into my ears. I quickened my pace, and on getting to the living room, my eyes fell on my mother sitting on the couch, her head buried in her hands. And Uncle Niall, as usual, his hands always touching things that weren't his. His right hand wrapped around her, his fingers sinking into her upper arm, and the left brushed against the cartoon colored jeans trousers he wore. Irritation knitted my brows together as I headed towards them, my pace faster than my tired legs could keep up. Before my mother, I lower

Sophie..The afternoon was usual. Summer oppressed the atmosphere, making the air thick and stagnant. The blue of the L-shaped pool contrasted with the vibrant green carpet of grass, hiding the hard ground beneath it in the backyard of Luca’s villa. I laid on the white outdoor pool lounge chair beneath the citrus tree that provided shade from the angry sun; its refreshing tart smell of lime traced the air, stamping its presence in the backyard.My mind was as thick as the air as Romi’s words lingered. A soft groan escaped me. Was I cursed? Why did all the men in my life leave me? First my father, then Alex. What if Luca left me too?I reached out for the chilled orange juice that had begun to succumb to the hot air. Bringing the transparent straw to my lips, I sipped from it. Although drowned in my ugly thoughts, I still took some seconds to appreciate the zesty tang that tantalized my tongue. If only my life could be as sweet as this orange juice.The soft thud stole the silence f

Alex..Good mornings filled the air as I walked to Mr. Watson's office. Getting home after my mother called me yesterday, she told me Damien had resumed working for the company. The bastard had started playing his card. My chest tightened, not with discomfort but annoyance—it would take grace and mercy not to lunge at him.Not everything could be solved with violence; mentally, I chided myself.Turning the doorknob, I pushed the door open. Mr. Watson's eyes flicked to mine before his usual cunning smile formed on his lips. “Good morning, Mr. Dawson. What brings you to my office?” His eyes gleamed like he was expecting me. He must have heard the news about Damien; he must have anticipated this.“Good morning, Mr. Watson.” I strode to the visitor's chair and dropped into it. Leaning back into the leather chair, I crossed my feet—ankle to knee. “You must have heard about Damien.”“He’s resuming work today,” he responded, his eyes glued to the stack of paper before him. “I also heard