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33: A Bitter Pill
Last Updated:
2024-12-05 21:47:34
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The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 34: Friendly Reunion
[Arella]The dining area is bathed in soft sunlight pouring through tall glass windows, reflecting off the polished marble floors. I sit at the expansive wooden table, its surface gleaming under the light, with a small plate of sliced apples in front of me. I'm alone at the table, Lincoln had told me last night that he wouldn't make it for breakfast because of a board meeting.My stomach feels hollow after throwing up–yet again, and I bring a an apple slice to my mouth, hoping its sweetness will settle me.The butter–sweet, tangy taste soothes my taste buds, momentarily easing the nausea twisting in my gut. It’s still my first trimester, so tell me why the only thing I can enjoy in the morning without throwing up is mayo-covered apple slices. Heaven knows what my weird cravings will be like as the months come along. “Need more apples, my dear?” Rita’s warm, maternal voice floats over from the kitchen area. She moves toward me with a concerned smile.I shake my head, rubbing my tu
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[Arella]“Oh please, you don’t have to call me that,” Bridget giggles, her voice light and melodic as she leads me to our favorite spot at the back. The warm, familiar ambiance of Morty’s wraps around me like a cozy blanket.I wonder if Morty, the owner, still works here. He was already quite old back in college, with a twinkle in his eye and stories that could fill a library.“But I do, Your Highness,” I tease, lips curving into a playful smirk, and Bridget just shakes her head, her cheeks flushing faintly.I’m not joking, though—Bridget is a real-life princess of a small Scandinavian country in Europe, though she’s always been more down-to-earth than royal.We sit, settling into the worn but inviting leather booth. Our orders are taken by a cute little girl on rollerblades. Cliché, I know, but it’s charming, like something out of an old movie.Feeling my hands being clasped by Bridget’s soft, slightly cool fingers, I look up. Her baby-blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, reflecti
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[Lincoln]“Welcome home, Mrs. Sawyer,” I say, my voice calm yet firm, startling Arella as she turns to see me seated on the dark leather couch, illuminated only by the soft amber glow of the fireplace. The large living room seems even bigger in the dim light, with the fire casting moving shadows on the marble floor.The staff retired to their quarters early today because I wanted to spend some quality time with my wife.Imagine my shock when I didn’t see her home—no texts, no calls. I went a little paranoid—not that she needed to know that, though.“Heyy…Lincoln,” she replies in an awkward voice, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.My lips twitch, and I fight back a smile.I’m supposed to be angry, but I guess I can’t—not when she looks like an adorably stunned hamster, her wide eyes shimmering under the soft light.Keeping my voice flat, I continue with a practiced stoic face, “The driver tells me you declined his offer to take you out.” My tone is even,
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[Arella]The dim light from the bedside lamp fills our cozy bedroom with a soft, golden glow. The air smells faintly of lavender from the candles on the nightstand filling the silence between us. Lincoln’s shoulders slump, and my heart drops for some reason."I'm sorry," the words come out as a whisper, barely audible."You don't want to work with me?" His voice is low, tinged with disbelief.Deciding against lying, I nod truthfully, and he chuckles sadly, the sound hollow and distant."Can I at least have a reason? You declined it without going through it all" His gaze is steady."It's not what you're thinking, Lincoln. It's just that…it wouldn't be right handing me the position of Chief Officiating Officer of Sawyer Group," I explain, feeling my fingers tremble slightly."With your numerous qualifications, nobody would say a word even if I make you the CEO, Arella. Tell me the real reason." His voice tightens just enough to make my chest constrict.I swallow, reaching out to hold
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[Lincoln] "I wanted to see my wife," I reply, unashamed. Arella rolls her eyes. "You saw me this morning," she retorts, her tone clipped but playful. I shake my head slowly, holding her gaze. "Doesn't matter. Had lunch yet?" She flushes, her lips twitching with guilt. "Would you believe a yes?" "I wouldn't," I reply, my jaw tightening at her carelessness. "Get in," I command firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument. "What? Now? I’m at work, you know," she protests, exasperated but already moving toward the car. I give her a pointed look. With a resigned sigh, she slips into the passenger seat, smoothing her skirt with jittery fingers. Reaching into the back seat, I grab the small flask of food and place it in her hands. Her eyes brighten instantly, a spark of joy softening her tense features. "You got me food?" she asks, her voice rising with surprise. "Hmm." I hum, savoring her reaction. Before she can say more, I grab her chin with controlled intensity and press my li
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[Arella]The weekend rolls by, and despite how drained I feel from my first week at Chanax, I’m excited to see my sister again.The car pulls up, its engine purring softly as it comes to a stop. Without waiting for Lincoln, I push the door open and step out, my shoes crunching against the gravel.“Careful,” he says behind me, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s shaking his head at me.The camp air wraps around me, warm and inviting, with the faint scent of pine and freshly turned earth wafting through the breeze. The soft hum of nature fills my ears, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds. Beautiful birds flit between the trees, their bright colors streaking against the dense greenery.Tucked away in the busy city, this camp feels like a sanctuary—a place of hope for children with MDD. My heart swells at the thought of seeing Ava again, of being able to hold her.“Ava!” I squeal, excitement bubbling in
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[Arella]Turning my worried eyes away from Ava, who looked like she'd seen a ghost, I turn to none other than Deric. The air feels thick, like something heavy is about to drop, and it settles in the pit of my stomach. I swear, it’s like fate is always playing a cruel joke on me, making me cross paths with this scumbag at the worst possible time.I scoff immediately, the sound sharp and biting, as I feel the blood rush to my face in anger. "Why can't I be here? Is the mall yours?" He smiles smugly, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "I should be asking you this same question. I'm here to get an engagement ring for my soon-to-be wife, Vivian."He emphasizes her name like it’s some kind of victory. Like I should care. “Not like you would know anything about that”, he adds, the jab aimed right at me…I don't even know if I should call this a jab though, seems pathetic.My smile turns brighter, forced but sharp. "Well, my husband closed down the mall for today. It'd be in your best in
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[Arella]The hot summer sun beats down, its harsh rays bouncing off Mr. Malcolm's bald head. I sit up straighter, tilting my head to avoid the glare coming through the open window. The office feels warm, with the AC struggling to keep the heat at bay.“What is the matter, Mr. Malcolm?” I ask calmly, masking my irritation.“Oh, please, cut that bullshit, young lady!” he snaps, his voice sharp and abrasive, echoing through the quiet office.I arch a brow, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Funny how bold he is now that Bridget is out on business. His audacity is as suffocating as the humid air hanging heavily in the office.“I'll ask again, Mr. Malcolm. What is the matter?”He storms forward and slams a crumpled piece of paper on my desk, his thick fingers trembling with barely restrained rage.“This! This is the matter! What do you think of yourself, eh? That you can just come here and change the order of things? My project with the Ames finances will not be cut off the vision board,
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The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 184: Steel & Softness
[Arella]SEVEN MONTHS LATER"Mrs. Sawyer! Over here! Mrs. Sawyer, one picture, please!"The flashes are relentless, blinding. Cameras snap like a firing squad, their rapid shutters echoing through the grand hall. My smile is practiced, perfect—curved just right to look pleasant but not warm, professional but not too inviting. A mask I’ve worn so well, it’s almost second nature now.My grandfather steps beside me, his presence commanding the room with effortless authority. He pulls me in for a brief hug before turning to the podium, his voice rich with pride."Thank you all for joining us today for this historic handover ceremony."Applause ripples through the crowd, excitement buzzing like an electric current. Months of grueling work, endless negotiations, and sleepless nights have led to this moment. I’ve trained, fought, and bled to earn my place here, and now—"After extensive strategic planning, rigorous restructuring, and unwavering commitment, I am proud to announce the rebrandi
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 183: Joy & Ruin II
[Arella]"Wait! Come back!"My feet pound against the ground as I chase after Lincoln’s retreating figure. He moves farther and farther away, his broad shoulders rigid, his pace unwavering. Panic grips my chest, crushing the air from my lungs."This is goodbye, Ella." No! It’s not."Stop! Stop!" I scream, my voice shattering in the empty void between us.But he doesn’t stop.With a startled gasp, I jolt upright, my breath coming in rapid, uneven pants. My chest rises and falls erratically, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. The force of my abrupt movement sends sharp, agonizing waves of dizziness crashing through my skull, a pounding headache threatening to split my head open. My throat feels raw, my skin clammy with sweat.Disoriented, I reach up, fingers trembling as they graze my head, feeling the rough texture of gauze wrapped tightly around it. Where am I?My instincts take over, and my hands fly to my stomach. The panic sharpens, squeezing my lun
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 182: Joy & Ruin
[Arella]"Move out of the way! Move!"The voices around me blur together, frantic, overlapping, desperate. Hands grasp at me, shifting my body, prodding, fussing. My head lolls to the side, the world a hazy, spinning mess of colors and noise.A guttural scream rips through my throat as another wave of unbearable pain tears through me. My body jolts, arching off the surface I’m lying on, my fingers clawing at the sheets beneath me. It feels like my insides are splitting apart, as if something is twisting and wrenching me from the inside out."You have to hold on—please, Arella!"I shake my head weakly. I can't. I can't do this.“My baby—” I gasp, barely able to get the words out. “It’s coming. I—I can't—”I sob through gritted teeth, my breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. Panic claws at my chest, tightening like a noose.Loud beeps pierce through the room—machines, monitors, voices shouting medical jargon I can’t comprehend. A sharp, burning pressure builds in my stomach, spreading
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 181: A Hero's Fall
[Lincoln]"I can't find her Lincoln!" Ryder’s voice is hoarse, nearly drowned out by the chaos around us. The building groans under its own destruction, flames licking at the walls like ravenous beasts. Smoke burns my throat, but I push forward.Part of me feels gut-wrenchingly guilty for leaving Arella behind. The other part knows she’d never forgive herself if something happens to Bam Bam tonight.The masks we hastily put on do little against the toxic air. My lungs burn with every breath, and more blood spills from my mouth as Ryder stumbles, barely able to stand. His face is pale, sweat streaking through the soot clinging to his skin. I don't think he can go any further.Looking at Zach, I grit out, "Take him out. I'll check the eastern side.""But sir—" he starts to protest, his own steps faltering."Go!" I bark, shoving him toward Ryder before forcing my way deeper into the hellscape.I surge forward, weaving through the inferno, lungs screaming in protest. The cyanide gas hiss
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 180: His Promise
[Arella]Lincoln looks conflicted, his jaw tightening like he’s holding back a war inside himself. His body is tense, his breaths uneven, like he’s trying to convince himself of something even he doesn’t believe. Then, suddenly, he presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. It’s warm, firm—full of something unspoken. It should calm me. It should tell me everything will be okay.But it doesn’t.Not when I don’t know what’s coming next.Not when something in my chest screams that this moment is slipping away—slipping through my fingers like sand.“I swear, I’ll come back.”His voice is rough, almost torn. There's something final in the way he says it, something that sends an icy wave crashing through my veins. Before I can respond, he steps back, pulling free from my grasp. My fingers, weak and trembling, try to hold on, but it’s like trying to catch smoke.No.A frail voice breaks through the tension. "Are you sure about this, son?"The words barely register, but I know that voice
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 179: Smoke And Cyanide
[Arella]“Lin…coln…” My voice is dry and coarse, barely more than a whisper, but he hears it.He’s kneeling beside me in an instant, his face twisted in a mixture of fury and raw pain as his gaze lands on the gash at the side of my head. His touch is gentle but trembling, like he's afraid to hurt me more."Who did this to you? How did you—" He coughs violently, the sound wet and ragged.A drop of blood falls from his lips.My heart clenches.Tears well in my eyes, blurring my vision as they spill like heavy rain. A thick, metallic scent clogs my nostrils, and my stomach turns."What’s that smell, Linc?" I murmur, my body swaying.Before I can process anything, I feel myself lifted, cradled in his arms. My body is too weak, too heavy, but the movement jolts another coughing fit from my burning throat.A firm hand presses something against my nose. His handkerchief.“Cyanide,” he rasps.My heart sinks into my stomach.My body tenses, horror gripping my chest like a vice.I know what cya
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 178: Under Attack II
“We’re under attack!” my father rasps between violent coughs, his voice hoarse, barely audible over the chaos erupting around us. His eyes are bloodshot, his face paling by the second as the toxic air claws its way into his lungs.“Who would dare do such a thing?!” Grandfather barks, his voice raw, but the words barely make it out before another violent cough racks his body.My heart slams against my ribcage as I take in the horror unfolding around me. My mother suddenly appears, her face pale as a sheet, her breathing labored. She looks frantic, her eyes darting around until they land on me.“Lincoln—”“Don’t say anything, Mom. Reserve your breath.” My tone is sharp, commanding, but I can’t afford for her to waste energy. “Where’s Arella?”Her eyes widen. Panic flickers across her face. “I—I don’t know. We were all just having a conversation, and she wanted to ease herself. Then, after a while, fumes started pulling out of the vents—” She breaks into a coughing fit, struggling to fin
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 177: Under Attack
[Lincoln]My father and I settle into the dimly lit study of my grandfather-in-law. The heavy scent of old books and polished mahogany fills the air, mixing with the faint aroma of cigar smoke that seems embedded in the very walls. The room is grand—intimidating even—with its high ceilings, dark oak shelves lined with legal tomes, and an air of quiet authority that only men like my Harold Walcott can command.My father shifts in his chair beside me, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his shoulders stiff. He’s nervous—hell, even I’m a little uneasy. Grandfather sits across from us, his expression unreadable, but the slight downturn of his lips is enough to tell me this won’t be a pleasant conversation.He clears his throat, his voice steady and sharp. “There are some matters that still need settling, and I’d like us to be clear on the Clement Thompson situation before we move on.”Straight to the point, as always. No sugarcoating, no unnecessary pleasantries.My father exhales, nodd
The Billionaire's Forgotten Ex-wife 176: Locked In
[Arella]"Are you okay, Arella? I heard voices."Mila’s voice startles me as I turn around to see her standing at the top of the stairs. My chest is still heaving, my breathing erratic from Deric’s antics, but my heart warms at the thought of Lincoln keeping me safe—even at a party like this.I force a breath, shaking my head. "It's nothing, don't worry. Just some random stranger."Mila doesn’t look convinced. Her brows furrow in skepticism, but she lets it go."Oh… okay," she says slowly. "What are you doing up here anyway? Looking for Lincoln?" She smirks, throwing in a cheeky wink.I palm my face, shaking my head. "I came to pee, and I didn't want to use the guest restroom downstairs. Could you point me to the one here?""I mean, I could follow you. I just peed now myself," she offers after pointing the way.I roll my eyes. Why is everyone trying to babysit me?"Don’t act like my husband, Mila. You look like you could explode any minute. Go sit down," I tease, shoving her playfully
