All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Silent Regret: His Runaway Wife’s Secret: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

The sheets were a battlefield of silk and crushed lace, a testament to the feverish, almost desperate way Julian had claimed her just hours before. In the dim, golden light of the master suite, Elara watched him. For the first time in three years, she felt a sliver of hope. He had kissed her with a hunger that felt like a confession. His hands had lingered on her skin as if he were trying to memorize her.Julian leaned over her, his breath warm against her temple. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her cheek, his stubble grazing her skin."Julian," she whispered, her voice thick with an emotion she finally thought was shared.He didn't answer. Instead, he sat up, the warmth vanishing instantly. The bed groaned as he stood, his back a cold, muscular wall. Without a word, he walked to the mahogany dresser, retrieved a heavy manila envelope, and tossed it onto the tangled sheets.It landed with a dull thud right where his head had rested moments ago."Sign it," he said. His voice was f

The sound of the heavy oak door creaking open made Elara’s heart lurch. She scrambled to her feet, frantically wiping the salt and ruin from her cheeks with the back of her hands. By the time Julian stepped into the room, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her spine rigid, staring at a fixed point on the wall.Julian paused. The cold, sharp scent of rain and scotch followed him. He looked at her..really looked at her and for a split second, his jaw tightened. Her eyes were rimmed with a raw, swollen red that made his chest feel like it was being squeezed by an iron fist. But he strangled the feeling before it could reach his tongue."Get up," he said, his voice a jagged blade. "There’s a charity gala tomorrow night. The Vane Foundation. You’re attending."Elara let out a dry, hysterical laugh that caught in her throat. "Are you serious? You threw divorce papers at my face this morning, Julian. You told me I was a debt to be paid. And now you want me to play the happy wife for you

Elara’s hands shook as she folded a simple cotton sweater, one she had owned before the world turned grey. She bypassed the velvet boxes on the vanity. The diamonds, the emeralds, the "tips for services rendered" she left them all. They felt like lead weights.A sharp, familiar wave of nausea hit her, forcing her to lean against the wardrobe. She clutched her stomach, her breath coming in shallow hitches. I’m just tired, she lied to the empty room. I’m just hollow.Her eyes drifted to the silk sheets, and the memories came unbidden, biting and cruel. Three years of nights where the silence of the day was drowned out by the heat of his skin. Julian never said "I love you," but he had claimed her with a desperation that felt like a prayer. She remembered a rainy Tuesday two years ago; he had come home drunk, his guard shattered. He had pulled her into his lap, burying his face in her neck, murmuring, "Elara, why are you so soft? Why are you the only thing that doesn't hurt to look at?"