The billionaire regret;the heiress revenge

Chapter 4: Time to Be Me Again

Sienna’s POV

It was twenty minutes past midnight, and the house was screaming with silence.

Xavier still wasn't home.

After he had chased Vanessa out of the gala, the atmosphere at the dinner table had become toxic. His mother had tried to force a smile, her face tight with a humiliation she couldn't hide.

His brothers had looked away every time I caught their eyes, and the guests... the guests whispered. I could feel their pity sticking to my skin. I couldn't breathe in that room anymore. I had excused myself, blaming a sudden migraine, though we all knew it was my heart that was failing, not my head.

Now, I was back in our massive, empty mansion, twisting the cool diamond band on my finger until the skin underneath turned red. I was still waiting for him. Even after everything, after the cold words and the divorce papers, a pathetic, desperate part of me was still holding a candle in the wind.

I had loved Xavier since I was a teenager. I had spent three years of marriage trying to prove I was worth more than the shares my grandmother owned. I didn't want to let a girl like Vanessa,a woman who only saw him as a trophy, steal the life I had bled to build.

When the clock struck one, the silence became unbearable. I stood up and started pacing the length of the living room, my heels clicking against the cold marble. My phone was in my hand, the screen glowing. I wanted to call him. I wanted to hear his voice, even if he was yelling at me.

"He's never stayed out all night," I whispered to the empty room. "Maybe something happened. Maybe he’s hurt."

I was making excuses for him again. I was building a bridge for a man who was busy burning the forest on the other side.

Just as I raised the phone to dial, headlights came through the dark curtains, sweeping across the walls like searchlights.

My heart did a leap. I ran to the door like a lost puppy finally hearing its master’s footsteps. I reached for the handle just as the door groaned open.

Xavier stumbled inside.

He smelled like a distillery. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his tie was gone, and the top buttons of his shirt were ripped open. He looked like a man who had spent the last four hours trying to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey.

"You're drunk," I said, stepping forward to catch him before he hit the floor.

"Not... not really," he slurred, letting out a hollow laugh. He kicked his shoes off, nearly tripping over the rug.

I swallowed the bitter taste of anger. I knew why he was like this. He was mourning the fact that his mother had kicked his mistress out. He was probably upset because Vanessa had played the victim, crying in his arms about how mean I had been.

I pushed the jealousy aside. Right now, he was here. He was home.

I slid my arm under his, guiding him toward the stairs. For a fleeting, foolish second, I leaned into him. I missed the smell of his skin, even through the scent of alcohol.

"I can walk, Sienna," he grumbled, but he didn't push me away. He actually leaned into me, his head resting briefly against my shoulder.

"Sure you can," I muttered, my heart aching at the small contact.

We made it to the bedroom, and I eased him down onto the silk sheets. I knelt on the floor to pull off his socks, then stood over him to loosen his collar. Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. He pulled me down toward his chest with a strength that caught me off guard.

I gasped, my hands landing on his shoulders.

His eyes were open now, and they weren't cold. They were soft, hazy, and filled with a look I hadn't seen in years.

"God, you're so pretty," he murmured, his voice thick and rough.

My chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to scream with joy that he was finally looking at me. But the divorce papers were still sitting in his suitcase. Vanessa was still waiting for him in a hotel room. What was the point of a compliment if it was fueled by whiskey?

"How I love you..." he whispered, his fingers reaching up to stroke a strand of hair behind my ear.

He looked at me in a way that sent a thousand butterflies through my stomach, fluttering against the walls of my ribs.

"Xavier..." .

Before I could say anything else, he pulled my head down. His lips crashed against mine with a hunger that was terrifying and beautiful all at once. I stiffened for a heartbeat, my mind screaming at me to run, to protect myself.

But the deep, starving part of me won. I fell into him.

I clutched his shirt, my fingers tangling in the fabric as he kissed me deeper, his breath hot and smelling of spirits. All the walls I had built over the last week crumbled. Every rejection, every insult, every cold night, it all faded into the background.

I just wanted to be his.

He rolled over, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I didn't think. I didn't question. I just gave in to the heat.

The night blurred into a hazy dream. The clothes we wore were cast aside, scattered across the floor like the ruins of our old life. His touch was needy and rough, as if he were trying to pull the soul out of me. For those hours, I allowed myself to believe. I believed that the man who wanted a divorce had changed his mind. I believed that this was the beginning of our real life.

I held him tight, my eyes closed, refusing to let the reality of the morning in.

But then, the dream turned into a nightmare.

Xavier moved closer to my ear, his voice a low, gravelly moan that should have been for me.

"Nessa..."

The name hit me like a bucket of ice water. The blood drained from my face, and my heart felt like it had been physically torn in half.

Nessa.

I knew that name. It was the nickname he had for Vanessa. He wasn't with me. In his mind, he was with her. He was holding me, but he was loving her.

"I love you so much, nessa," he groaned, his voice filled with a passion he had never shown me.

I went cold. I pulled away from him, my hands shaking so hard I could barely move. He mumbled something in his sleep, reaching out for a body that was no longer there, but I was already out of the bed.

I scrambled for my clothes, pulling them on with trembling fingers. I felt dirty. I felt used. I felt like a substitute in my own marriage.

I ran into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning against the cold tiles I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my lips were swollen, and my eyes were red with a pain I couldn't even put into words

.

I was broken. Truly, finally broken.

I didn't cry. The tears wouldn't come. I just stared at the woman in the glass and realized she was a stranger. I had spent three years dying for this man, and he didn't even know my name in the dark.

When the sun began to peek through the bathroom window, I knew what I had to do. The decision wasn't even hard. It was the only way to survive.

I walked back into the bedroom. Xavier was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling. He looked peaceful. He looked like the man I had loved since I was a girl. I watched him for a long minute, memorizing the curve of his jaw and the way his hair fell over his forehead.

Then, I turned toward the closet.

I pulled out the divorce documents.My hand shook as I picked up the pen, but as I touched the tip to the paper, my grip became steady.

I signed my name. *Sienna Vale.* I felt the ink seal my fate. It was the most honest thing I had done in three years.

Next came the ring. I twisted the diamond band off my finger. I placed it gently on top of the signed papers, right in the center of the desk where he would see it the moment he woke up.

I didn't pack much. Just a single suitcase I had prepared the night before, filled with things that were actually mine, things he hadn't bought.

I walked to the door and took one last look at the room. Then, I stepped out into the hallway and down the stairs.

It was time to finally be Sienna again.