Billionaire's Unlucky Wife

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

I ran my eyes appreciatively over the laid-out breakfast table, trying to keep my eyes focused on the delicacies decorating it. Rena, the forty-five-year-old maid who was in charge of the other five maids, had seen to it that breakfast was prepared just like how Dane liked every Friday morning. He had a habit of having a full breakfast on Friday mornings because he said, he liked closing his week in style.

“I’m so sorry, Cynthia. I wish I had fought harder for us. I miss you so f*****g bad and I want you back. Promise me you’ll stay this time. I can’t live without you because you’ll always be the love of my life. I want you back,”

The tears. The raw emotions that had been present in his voice. f**k! It was all too real.

“No, he was just drunk,” I whispered under my breath, working up a smile.

“Are you okay?” Rena questioned as she set down the last glass while I sat down. She was like a mother to me, always showing concern over my life. My mother was probably in some fancy resort in Hawaii, flaunting her latest conquest while online shopping from some crazy rich online store.  

“I’m okay, Rena. You should join us,” I offered her.

“No, thank you. I’ll leave you and Dane to it,” she answered.

“Doesn’t she look especially exquisite this morning, Rena?” Dane’s voice had my body going rigid just for a few minutes, everything he’d said yesterday night replaying in my brain. He was already dressed for work, his suitcase on one hand as his coat resting on his arm.

“Now that you said it, she does look extremely radiant this morning. Red is indeed her color,”

“I’ve told her so many times and she is still somehow stuck on green,” A smile sketched on Dane’s handsome face as he made his way towards me, bending down to lace a quick kiss on my lips before he joined me on the table. Rena walked away, leaving us to enjoy the breakfast she had wholeheartedly prepared.

“Good morning, Beautiful,” he greeted, reaching over to get the juice. Beautiful? Was that how he used to greet her too?

“Good morning handsome,” I took my cup of coffee, taking a sip of the dark liquid full of arabica beans just like how I liked it before continuing,” You came in quite late yesterday night,”

His face went rigid for a moment, his fork midair from the omelet before swiftly regained his composure,” Well, the Carson twins were quite a hard bunch to convince,”

“And you were drunk,” I pointed out, my heart picking speed. I wondered for a brief moment if he’d remember anything from yesterday night. Would he remember all those admittedly hurtful and hard-to-believe words he spoke to me?

“Those twins just wouldn’t leave me alone and I had to give in to the request of a few drinks with them,” he replied.

“But you don’t drink,”

He suddenly slammed the fork hard on the table beside his plate,” What is this? Twenty-one questions? Yes, I got drunk Chanel. I got f*****g wasted to the point that I have no bloody idea how I even got home. My head hurts like hell and I can’t seem to remember anything,”

Dane had never shouted at me before and so it was rather impulsive that my lower bottom lip dipped in astonishment.

“D-Did you just yell at me?

“I’m sorry,” he released a deep breath,” I’ve just been on edge lately and the pressure just keeps on piling up on me. From work to mum and Dad hell bent on making us get heirs for the company,” he reached forward, his hands clamping mine, an apologetic look on his face as he added,” You know I would never yell at you.  I love you, Honey,”

I love you, Honey.

Was that what he told her too? Every time he told me those words, did he even mean them?

I suddenly stood up, grabbing my car keys and purse,” Don’t forget, we are having dinner with the Watkins at the Grand La Alma. I made the reservations yesterday night after I called you so many times and you wouldn’t answer,”

“Honey,” He called but I ignored him, walking to my car.

“Will I be driving you to work today, ma’am?” Rodriguez questioned. I knew damn well he was the one who drove Dane home yesterday because in that state, my husband wouldn’t have been able to tell the gas pedal from the brakes. I was tempted to ask him about yesterday, the places Dane had been and who he’d been with but I was somewhat scared of the truth.

“No, you can drive Dane. He won’t shut up about his headache,” I added with a slight chuckle.

“Have a great day then, Ma’am,” I nodded in response.

As I drove to work, I couldn’t stop reminiscing over the events of yesterday night and today morning. The drinking and the yelling were so unlike Dane. Tears were threatening to wet my cheeks but my pride was too damn huge to let them. I couldn’t just lose my husband over some past lover. Dane and I shared way too much to let another woman come in between us and I was going to remind him exactly that.  Whoever she was, I was not going to let her take my man away from me. I was not going to be like my parents at the slightest doubt creeping up in my marriage. If I have to fight whatever memory he had of hers, then so be it. The question that haunted me however was why the hell would Dane bring up his ex or whoever she was after the three years I’ve known him?