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The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back If only they had a father like Brion
“Yeah! That was what Uncle BRION said,” River countered, supporting his twin sister. Just like winter, he has blonde hair, only that his hair is always slightly tousled as if he just rolled out of bed or had been playing outside. No matter how much I brushed it, it always tangled after a while. His grey eyes are a deep, rich shade that seems almost wise beyond his years. He always reminded me of someone. DASHIELL. Even though he had my eyes, he still looked like his father. A miniature version of the man I never wanted to think about. Sighing, I squatted in front of them, grinning as I reached over to pat their hair. “Mum apologizes for not taking you with me. Don't worry, I will let you tag along the next time I'm going for a brand reveal,” I promised, despite knowing I might not fulfil it. Not only would it be a hassle taking them with me, but the last thing I wanted was for them to meet Dashiell.Whatever it takes, I intend to keep my kids as far from him as I can. I won't let t
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back Aren't you shameless?
DASHIELLThere was this gnawing emotion within me, one I couldn't understand. Spending time with Lilith always calmed me down, but not anymore. It felt like there was something else, something I needed but couldn't have.The feeling was foreign, something I'd never experienced before, which was why I decided to take a walk, to ease my mind of the insistent concerns raging havoc in my mind. Staying with Lilith at the moment didn't sound like the best solution. I needed some time alone, to clear my mind.As I strode down the busy streets, my thoughts returned to Nova and what transpired between us yesterday. I was still mad at her for everything that had happened. However, there was this sad feeling each time I thought of how she held hands with Brion. With the sad feeling came an anger so fierce it startled me each time. I had never been consumed by such an intense rage before, one that made me want to storm over to them and rip her off his arms. I wanted to dominate her, to possess
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back He's still with her
NOVAI put the phone on a high speaker as I drove out of the school car park, waiting for Brion to answer. “Hello, darling. Did you miss me?” Brion's cheerful voice filtered in, reminding me there were more good guys out there, ones who were better than that bastard Dashiell. Each encounter with him always made me question how blind I must have been years ago when I gave him my all. I must have been sick in the head, that I didn't realize what a bastard he was until I left. “Nova?” He called out, dragging my thoughts from my reverie and back to my phone. “Are you okay? Why aren't you saying anything?” “I want to leave,” I said, keeping my focus on the road and trying not to clench my fists hard on the steering wheel. “Why? Did you meet him again?” “Yeah, I did.” Nodding as if he could see me, I left the highway for the less busy street to avoid getting honked on by those desperately driving to work. “And he made you decide to leave?” “I can't take this anymore. Each encounte
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back An annoying house fly
The moment I stepped into the office, my jaw almost dropped to the floor at the Beauty. It was enough to take my mind off that damned bastard and his slutty girlfriend. The first thing I noticed was the large, rich brown mahogany desk, perfectly polished to a warm sheen. The desk was paired with a comfortable, high-backed leather chair upholstered in a complementary earthy tone.To one side of the room was a plush couch, its cushions a soft, creamy white. They positioned the couch to take advantage of the stunning view through the wall-to-ceiling window, which stretched from floor to top and allowed natural light to flood the space.From there, I could see those walking below, something I was grateful for since it overlooked the car park. Throughout the room, vibrant green plants added a pop of colour and freshness, their pots a decorative complement to the peach hue of the wall.I could tell, undoubtedly that the decorator put his all in the room. It was so breathtaking that I didn
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back I won't give up
Lunch was awkward. Dashiell tagged along with us despite my warning not to do so, and that made Astrid so clumsy that she ended up throwing everything to the floor. “I'm sorry,” she apologized for the twentieth time since we arrived. Her gaze kept on the turned-over plate on the floor as the waiter on standby rushed over to our table to clean it up. “It's okay. I will pay for the damages,” Dashiell said, dropping a wad of cash on the table as he got up. “Let's change to the other table. It's vacant and —” “I'm no longer hungry.” I rose from the chair and turned to Astrid, who was trying not to make herself as small as she could. “Let's go.” “But you haven't had anything yet,” Dashiell protested, reaching out to hold my arm, only to drop his hands to the side when I shot a dark glare at him. “Can't you at least have something before you go?” “With you here, I doubt I will have the appetite to eat.” I tugged Astrid up from the chair and led the scared woman out of the restaurant
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back A last minute heads-up
“This wasn't part of the plan, Brion,” I spoke into the receiver, my annoyance filtering through. “Not only did you let me work alone in the company while you took care of your pressing need, but you are telling me I need to represent you in the meet and greet?” “I'm sorry, Nova,” he apologized, his tone regretful. “I didn't know things would turn out this way, I swear.”“Can't you take care of it after the meet? It's not like your investors will die if you delay it for a day or two?” I plopped down on the couch in the living room, and crossed my legs, my gaze going over to my babies who were playing with their Legos. “I don't think it can wait, Nova.” “But —” “Are you worried about the kid? Someone will be there in an hour to help you look after them while you leave.” “You know, that's not what I'm worried about, Brion. I don't want to freaking attend the meet and greet!” I was almost yelling out now, my frustration taking the best of me. This wasn't how things were supposed t
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back There has never been an 'Us'
“Dashiell?” I frowned, stepping out of my house so he wouldn't look in. With the door closed, I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him as I demanded, “What are you doing here?”Instead of being offended by my question, he presented the bouquet in his hand to me, tilting his head partially to the side as a small smile played on his lips. I glared at the flowers, the silence dragging on as my stare became hard on him. The subtle breeze blowing on the leaves of the trees outside my property was the only noise to be heard. “Why don't you take it?” He demanded once more, stepping close, only to stop short when my scowl became deep. Not even the sweet fragrance from the flowers could dampen my emotions. “What are you doing here? How did you know my address?” I made certain to ask Brion to get a building far from the company, and one that couldn't be easily traced. I knew why I did that, but it seemed the damned bastard I was trying to hide my house from discovered it faster than I
The Billionaire's Regret: Getting My Wife Back Why are you naked?
To take my mind off the man sitting on the couch, I tried to mingle with the few workers I saw. Astrid didn't attend because she had something to deal with at home, so I was left alone in the sea of unfamiliar faces, sipping my drink, while trying not to look awkward. One reason I hated social gatherings? The odd stares from people. However, my greatest fear started when we all stood up to exchange pleasantries. I ended up drinking more than my fair share of wine. Why? I had to pretend I was busy, so I wouldn't be tugged into a conversation I wanted nothing to do with.After my sixth drink, and getting to meet like twenty of the shareholders and overexcited women, who were fans of my works, smiling until my cheeks hurt, and appreciating comments on my dress, I was ready to leave. I staggered out of the room and towards the restroom, praying I didn't fall on my face from the heels I had on. It was tricky walking on them with how drunk I was, but I would be damned to remove it. Some
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