Dirty Billionaire: Own Me

Chapter 1: Loss

|Grace|

[“Is the news fvcking true, Grace?! You're fvcking getting a divorce?!”] My best friend's voice pierced through the phone, laden with shock.

I winced, my foot hitting the brake as the stoplight turned red. I couldn't believe these words were the first I was hearing from her in over a month.

"Seriously, Jade?" I replied, my tone dripping with disbelief.

"Oh my gosh, so it is true!" Jade exclaimed again, completely disregarding my implied complaint about her sudden reappearance and prolonged absence.

"I haven't heard a word from you all month, and this is how you choose to reconnect?"

"What? I'm sorry I was late hearing about your divorce! But seriously, is what your soon-to-be ex is saying true? Did you cheat on him?"

I took a deep breath, eyes on the traffic light, and replied, "What do you think?"

[“What the hell, Grace Collins! How could you fvcking—”]

“I didn’t,” I sighed, my voice carrying the weight of frustration. “Do you really see me as that kind of person? Sure, I might have a resting b***h face, but I don’t cheat. Ever.” I shifted gears, eyes forward as the traffic light turned green, steering through the city streets with a determined hand.

My eyes were glued to the road as I made my way home. Today’s taping had been brief, and my manager had offered to drive me back in the van. But I yearned for a bit of solitude, a moment to myself, so I took the wheel and set off alone, feeling the calm embrace of the evening.

I wanted some time alone, even for a while.

As Jade brought up the looming specter of my divorce, a wave of hurt and bitterness surged through me. The memory of that day, when news of our impending split spread like wildfire across the nation, was a sharp blow to my pride and dignity. It was all thanks to Keith—no, the soon-to-be-ex Keith. The court would soon make our separation official, and by week's end, I would reclaim my maiden name, Gracelyn Collins.

It all began with whispers in the shadows, as rumors often do. The tale that I, Grace Collins-Servanchez, was unfaithful to my husband, Keith Servanchez, spread like wildfire. The audacity of it all was almost laughable, especially since it was Keith who had betrayed our vows. But sometimes, the most outrageous lies are the ones that people are quickest to believe.

Keith and I, the darlings of the nation's entertainment scene, were once the epitome of on-screen romance. For a time, we were the quintessential 'loveteam,' our names synonymous with cinematic magic and television drama. In every project, from blockbuster films to prime-time series, we were the dynamic duo, our chemistry an undeniable force that captivated audiences everywhere.

Our chemistry was electric, sparking a love affair with our audience. They clamored for more of Keith and me, yearning for another cinematic collaboration. Riding on our popularity, our talent agency secured project after project, catapulting us to the pinnacle of fame in just a few short years.

Under the spotlight of media scrutiny and public perception, and with Keith being the only man I've ever been involved with romantically, we eventually decide to take the plunge and get married after years of working closely together.

Our marriage was heralded as the event of the century, capturing the public's attention. In the wake of that grand celebration, our love blossomed, binding us together in an inseparable bond for the following year.

However, as we embarked on individual projects post-marriage, seeking growth and pushing our boundaries as actors, I began to notice a growing chasm between us.

We made a conscious decision early in our marriage to forgo having children, not out of a lack of desire, but because we recognized the importance of prioritizing our careers. We understood that adding a child to the mix at that time would hinder our ability to fully pursue our professional aspirations.

I find myself questioning whether I should shoulder the blame, particularly because it was my own decision to pursue individual work, driven by the desire to nurture and elevate my skills as an actress.

Or subconsciously, I might be blaming myself.

A month later, Keith made a similar choice. At the time, I was immersed in preparations for a movie, and I stood by him in his decision. However, this unity sparked immediate controversy, with rumors swirling that Keith and I were at odds.

With the finesse of seasoned professionals, we navigated the media circus, adeptly masking any signs of turmoil. Our accolades in the industry were not without merit; we skillfully deceived the public into believing that all was well, that our love remained steadfast. Yet behind closed doors, the barrier between us grew with each passing month of our frenetic schedules.

In my efforts to reignite the spark, I attempted to engage him in meaningful conversation, hoping to bridge the gap between us. Occasionally, we found moments of peace, but more often than not, our interactions erupted into fiery disputes.

It dawned on me that the occasional miscommunication between us was just par for the course in any marriage. With friends, family, and the world around us all echoing the same advice—urging Keith and me to communicate and find common ground.

And so I chose to forgo a tempting new project to prioritize my role as his wife.

Yet… Keith changed.

His demeanor shifted, veering towards coldness and indifference. His temper shortened, his restlessness palpable. The reason remained elusive to me, or perhaps he had always harbored those traits, expertly concealing his true nature beneath a facade of amiability.

And indeed, it was the latter. His true nature started to show as I spent more time with him.

His vanity knew no bounds, consumed by thoughts of himself. He had a knack for dismissing me, as though our marriage meant nothing. While he played the obedient spouse in front of the camera, his true colors emerged once it stopped rolling.

I found myself uncertain whether the sudden frostiness between us stemmed from something I did or from the confrontation I initiated after catching Keith being overly familiar with his co-actress. His justification was that it was purely professional, urging me not to let jealousy cloud my thoughts.

Jealous? Of course I'll be jealous because I am his wife.

But…a woman's hunch is, indeed, terrifying.

On a fateful night, I stumbled upon the betrayal: him, locked in a passionate kiss with the new actress he was collaborating with. Asserting my position as Keith's wife, I confronted them both, refusing to let the deceit go unacknowledged.

In my rage, I lashed out at the vulnerable actress, channeling my anger towards her instead of directing it at Keith where it truly belonged. But in that moment, my sense of betrayal clouded my judgment, preventing me from seeing the truth.

And that marked the beginning of being labeled as the crazy and obsessive wife.

A public video was released of how I hurt his mistress the very same night.

That moment could have marked the beginning of my downfall, yet to my surprise, I found myself inundated with offers to portray the villain in numerous TV series and movies.

Of course I declined again.

Amidst the turmoil of salvaging my marriage, how could I possibly entertain the idea of taking on another project? Keith and I were already the media's darling subject, so how could I simply turn my back and pretend none of it mattered?

However, it appeared all my efforts were futile for that scoundrel. I should have realized sooner that our marriage was beyond salvaging, especially after his third instance of infidelity. What's worse, his mistreatment of me while intoxicated only compounded the pain.

In the midst of a heated dispute over another woman, the scoundrel struck me with an unexpected slap, leaving me momentarily speechless, the sting reverberating through my senses. Keith, visibly startled by his own actions, swiftly extended an apology, seemingly surprised by his own outburst.

But that was my cue to give up on him and to our marriage. I'm not that kind of person who would sit around and endure the pain if a man lifted a hand on me, even once.

After two years of giving my entire effort to save the marriage, I finally filed for a divorce.

In a private conversation with Keith, I broached the subject of our impending divorce, hoping to avoid another scandal. However, it seemed my approach wounded Keith's ego, as he began spreading rumors of my infidelity. I couldn't fathom how he managed to manipulate the media to shift attention away from his own indiscretions.

I should be saving my name and press charges against Keith. But I was too tired to do it.

I was weary of the constant drama and daily challenges that seemed to plague my life. For years, I'd borne the burden of handling endless issues and controversies associated with my name. If the public insisted on casting me as the antagonist in their narrative, then so be it—I would embrace the role of their villain.

[“Then does Nina knows about your situation?”]

Jade's inquiry jolted me back to the present moment. I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I pressed on with my journey behind the wheel.

"Indeed. She stepped up to handle my divorce proceedings," I answered calmly.

"Of course she did. She's the one who urged you to leave that cheating bastard," came the retort.

"Then why did you almost believe I was cheating on him?"

"Well, you never know what could happen, right?" Jade chuckled, her laughter ringing out as if she found my predicament amusing. I simply shook my head in disbelief, not taking offense. After all, Jade had always been like that, and I had grown accustomed to her ways.

Jade's disappointment with Keith lingered, mirroring Nina's initial reaction upon hearing the news. She vented her frustration by cursing my soon-to-be-ex-husband until she felt some semblance of satisfaction.

Lost in conversation, I couldn't gauge the passage of time until she abruptly ended the call. Just then, as if on cue, I caught sight of the tower that housed my new abode, just as another call came through.

It was from an unknown number.

Furrowing my brow, I scrutinized the unfamiliar number displayed on my phone screen. I had only given out my new number to a handful of trusted contacts. Contemplating whether to dismiss the call as potential media intrusion or spam, a message suddenly popped up from the mysterious caller.

*Unknown Number: Miss Grace, this is Thelma. Please answer my call. I have some urgent matters to tell you.*

Relief flooded through me as the unfamiliar number identified herself as my financial adviser.

"Yes, Thelma?" I inquired as I navigated towards the basement of the building, intrigued by the urgency of the call.

"Miss Grace," her tone carried a cautious edge, causing my brows to knit in concern. My heart quickened its pace, a sudden wave of nerves washing over me. Spotting a vacant parking space, I swiftly pulled over, eager to give her my undivided attention.

“What is it, Thelma?” I urged.

"Have you noticed any recent activity in your account?" Her inquiry deepened the furrow in my brow.

"Well, yes, I did some shopping," I replied casually.

"No, Miss Grace. What I'm asking is, have you made any unexpected transactions exceeding 20 million dollars? Typically, when such transactions occur, you notify me personally—"

"Thelma, what the hell! I didn't authorize any of those transactions!" I erupted, my shock and anger palpable.

"And yet, Miss Grace, these transactions are clearly reflected in your account. Furthermore, I've received emails from several companies confirming receipt of your payments, some of which were sent to private accounts," Thelma explained solemnly.

As my financial adviser delved into the recent transactions, I found myself puzzled by some of the entries. There were purchases I couldn't recall making over the past few weeks.

I squirmed in my seat, my thoughts a tangled mess as I tried to pinpoint who could be responsible for draining my finances. My body trembled with a mix of vulnerability and rage. But it was Thelma's revelation of how little remained that truly sent a chill down my spine, freezing me in place.

[“You only have roughly less than a hundred thousand left on your account, Miss Grace. I think—”]

"I'll get back to you, Thelma," I exhaled sharply, squeezing my eyes shut. Without waiting for her response, I ended the call. With trembling hands, I ignited the engine and sped out of the basement, determination propelling me forward.

There is only one person in my mind who's behind those transactions.

And that's one and only my fvcking soon-to-be-ex-husband.

Keith.