THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN WIFE: My Husband's Redemption

BETTY

BETTY

By the time I make it downstairs the next morning, the house is already alive with chaos.

Vendors swarm the halls like ants, hauling in towering bouquets, glittering balloons, and a massive golden sign declaring “Harriette’s 80th”, its golden metallic shine stabbing at my nerves.

I close my eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, the kind that would make Harriette frown in amusement if she were here.

Another event I don’t want to attend, but one I can’t skip. Not if I want to stay on the good side of the only person in this house who actually likes me.

I tighten my grip on the envelope containing Grace’s permission slip and steel myself.

I head toward Nathaniel’s study, hoping, praying, that he’s in a better mood than yesterday, and I find his door is slightly ajar.

I pause, draw a slow breath, and push it open.

Inside, his chair is empty, and two maids are hovering over dusting shelves and furniture, their movements precise but sharp with irritation.

I clear my throat, and they snap their heads toward me, their faces screaming why the hell are you here?

“I’m looking for Nathaniel,” I blurt, darting my eyes between them.

They exchange glances, one rolling their eyes at me. “He already left,” the other replies, barely looking at me.

I squint, my shoulders slumping, and I let out a huge sigh. “Already? It’s still early…” I mutter under my breath.

The maids ignore me, returning to their dusting as if I were air. I step out, feeling the weight of invisibility settle on me, and stare down at the envelope.

The signature is needed by midday, and failing Grace isn’t an option. My jaw tightens. “Fuck, I have to go see him at his office.”

The thought of going to that office makes my stomach twist, the way it did two years ago when Nathaniel told me that I shouldn’t be seen anywhere near Blackwell Enterprises unless it was an emergency.

Emergency. I never dared test the definition, not until today.

I step into the foyer, where Anders is orchestrating the chaos like a conductor with a short temper, and he spots me instantly.

His spine straightens, arms folding neatly behind him. “Anything I can do for you, ma’am?” he asks, politely but distant.

I offer a small smile and nod. “I need to head into town. Can I have someone drop me off?”

His expression doesn’t budge, but he sighs, slow and irritated. “All the drivers are out.”

I tilt my head and smile at him, all teeth out. “I’ll drive myself then, if you don’t mind.”

That earns me a look. The questioning one. The are you sure you can even handle that? look.

Before he opens his mouth, I cut him off. “Yes, Anders. I can drive, and I’ll be careful. I’ll bring the car back in perfect condition.”

He hesitates, then reaches into his pocket and hands me a set of keys. “You'd better. Those cars are not cheap.”

I scoff with a shrug. “I know, Anders. Thanks.”

I squeeze the keys in my palm and head toward the garage. Only one car remains—the rest are gone, and this one is unmistakably Nathaniel’s favorite.

A sleek, obsidian-black convertible. Low, muscular frame. Chrome edges sharp enough to cut someone. Leather interior that smells like power and privilege.

“Fuck!” I slap my forehead and do a three sixty, fear prickling down my spine.

But then the envelope in my hand catches the light, and I take a deep breath. “For Grace,” I whisper to myself.

I slide into the driver’s seat, breath catching in my throat as I hit the ignition, and the engine roars to life.

I pull out slowly, easing onto the driveway, then the road.

The wind rushes in, sweeping my hair back, and something loosens inside my chest until I find myself smiling, actually smiling. It’s been so long since I felt… free.

I turn on the radio, the music filling the car, and the road opens before me.

Within the hour, the city skyline rises like a wall of glass and steel, and Blackwell Enterprise stands in the middle of it—tall, silver, merciless.

I park right at the entrance, because I won’t be staying long, and I step out.

The glass doors slide open, and the building greets me with its usual chaos. Phones ringing nonstop, and people rushing past with files stacked to their chins.

I head straight for the elevator and press the top-floor button. My heart thuds faster the higher we climb, and by the time the doors open, my pulse is a drumbeat in my ears.

The top floor is different. Quiet. Cold, and the air feels heavier, like money and power and secrets.

I walk slowly, softening the sound of my heels just to make sure there is no attention drawn to me.

Nathaniel’s secretary’s desk is empty, so I look around to see if she is anywhere in sight, but I can’t see her.

I swallow, grip the envelope tighter, and step toward his door, but his voice coming from the other side of the door stops me in my tracks.

He sounds like he is speaking to someone. But I am not sure if someone is in there with him or if he is on the phone.

I turn and look at the secretary’s desk again and sigh. “Where the hell is she? I can’t just stand here like I am lost.”

My eyes sweep the hallway before I turn back to his door, and I’m seconds away from knocking when a woman’s voice floats from inside. I freeze.

Confusion hits me hard, rooting me to the spot, and I don’t know what to do next.

“How could you still be married to her, Nathaniel?” I hear a spiteful female voice ask.

I frown, and curiosity nudges me closer. I don’t mean to listen, God knows I don’t, but I can’t stop myself, so I lean in my ear against the door.

“My marriage to her is complicated,” Nathaniel answers, his voice cold as steel. “I had to. It was either that or lose my place in the family. It was out of obligation.”

My stomach twists violently.

“So she trapped you, right?. And you don’t love her, do you?”

I flinch. Because one thing is for sure is I don’t think I want to hear what comes next.

I want to turn around and get out of there, but somehow, my feet refuse to move. My heart begins to thud in my chest, the silence inside there deafening, but then, I hear him sigh.

“No. I don’t. I could never love anyone as I loved you.”

“What?” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. My vision blurs, my ears begin to ring, and I feel the hallway begin to tilt.

I stumble back just as a hand touches my arm.

“Mrs. Blackwell? Are you okay?” I turn and find Nathaniel’s secretary looking at me, her face filled with concern.

I stare at her, struggling to breathe, and my throat tightens. “N…no,” I whisper, shoving the envelope into her hands. “Give him this. It’s for Grace. Tell him it must be faxed to the school by midday.”

Before she can respond, I turn and bolt for the elevator, my breath hitching in painful bursts.