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Reclaimed by the Billionaire
Reclaimed by the Billionaire
Author: Risky rits

Anniversary party

Isabella~

"Isabella, where’s Xavier? Call him to the party hall. All the guests are waiting for the cake-cutting ceremony." Mr. Donald Thompson, my father-in-law, requested that I find my spouse. With trepidation, I nodded and spun around to search for Xavier in the massive party hall. At this grand party, seeing him felt like an impossible task.

All the important guests, clutching their wine glasses, enjoyed the evening in the beautifully designed hall, its floral arrangements, and colorful lights creating a breathtaking display. The wealth of the Thompson family was evident in every detail of the decor, which reflected the Thompson family's wealth, leaving everyone in awe. They were America's richest family, not just the town's richest.

Holding the shimmering folds of my heavy gown, I navigated through the crowd like a lost puppy, trying to spot my husband, Xavier Thompson. This was only the second time I’d attended such an extravagant event. The first had been my wedding reception, and now, a year later, I was back at an even larger celebration—this time for our anniversary.

But today wasn’t just about us.

On the day of my wedding, my father-in-law had announced his upcoming retirement as chief lawyer of the Thompson firm. Everyone in attendance today was eagerly awaiting the big moment—the announcement of the new heir to his prestigious position, which was set to take place after the cake-cutting ceremony.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t see the man in front of me until I accidentally bumped into him, spilling wine across his pristine white coat.

"Isabella, where are you wandering?" Victor, Xavier's younger brother, inquired as he looked down at the stain. His expression was perplexed but not angry.

"Oh, Victor! I’m so sorry," I said quickly, fumbling to wipe the wine from his coat.

"Relax, Bella. It’s just wine." He smiled warmly, his tone soft. "You don’t have to be so nervous around me. I’m your friend, not your husband, who reprimands you without reason every chance he gets." His words were light, but they held a bitter truth.

He blinked, offering me a small nod of reassurance, but the guilt gnawed at me for ruining his party attire.

"Let me help you clean up," I insisted, leading him inside the house. Victor followed, and once we were away from the noise of the party, he spoke again.

"Where’s Big Brother? Shouldn’t he be by your side on your anniversary?" He inquired, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I don’t know," I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "Dad asked me to look for him."

Victor shook his head, frustration flashing in his eyes. "How could he do this to you? He should be here—at least today of all days! He also needs to hear Dad's announcement."

"Don’t be angry," I muttered. "He’s probably running late because of some important work." I opened Victor’s wardrobe and pulled out a tuxedo for him to change into.

"Why are you presenting me with all of these options when you are aware that I will simply wear whatever you choose?" Victor chuckled and stepped into the bathroom to change.

I smiled faintly as I glanced at the coat he’d left behind. When he emerged a few minutes later, I couldn’t help but admire how the tuxedo fit him perfectly.

"Hmm... you look good, but something’s missing." I placed a hand on my chin, studying him.

He looked strikingly like his elder brother, Xavier. He possessed an irresistible charm and a sharp jawline that captivated women. So many longed for a glimpse of Xavier, but I was the one lucky enough to call him my husband.

"Bella, what are you smiling at?" Victor waved his hand in front of my eyes, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Wait here," I said with a quick grin. "I’ll be back in a second."

I hurried to my room to fetch a brooch for Victor’s coat. As I approached, I heard Xavier’s voice from inside, his tone low and familiar. My footsteps slowed at the door. When had he arrived? Did he get dressed for the party?

I reached for the knob but froze when I heard a woman’s voice—a voice I knew all too well.

"When will you divorce her, darling?" Alicia’s words hit me like a slap. "I can’t stand being apart any longer."

No. It can’t be her. My hands trembled as I stood there, rooted in place. I had to imagine it.

Xavier’s voice cut through the air, low and cruel. "Just wait a little longer. After Dad announces the new heir, I’ll file for divorce. Only I know how I managed to survive this year living under the same roof with that uneducated, low-class woman."

His words pierced through me, leaving me breathless. The tears came before I could stop them, hot and fast, blurring my vision. What was I hearing? Did he not love me? Why had he married me at all? My mind raced back through the moments we’d shared over the past year, each one now tainted by the realization that he had never cared for me.

I was so blind. I had mistakenly believed that his affection for me that night meant he had finally come to love me. But now I saw the truth. He had been drinking. I was foolish enough to mistake his weakness for love.

But now, even though I knew I wasn’t ready for what awaited me behind that door, I had to face it. With every ounce of courage left, I turned the knob and stepped inside.

There they were—Xavier, half-dressed, and Alicia shamelessly naked beneath the duvet. Her face drained of color when she saw me.

"Isabella, when did you—" Alicia stammered, clutching the sheets around her.

I looked at Xavier, waiting for any sign of guilt, any hint that he cared about what he had done. But there was none. He wrapped his arms around Alicia as if my presence didn't matter at all.

My chest tightened, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My heart, already fragile, shattered into pieces as I stood there, staring at the man I loved, who didn’t love me back.

"Dad’s calling you for the cake-cutting ceremony," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady.

Xavier gave me a nod, not even bothering to cover his shame. It was nothing to him.

I wiped my tears quickly as I heard Victor approaching. With a forced smile plastered across my face, I stepped back out of the room and shut the door behind me.

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