The Billionaire's Karma

Chapter 5

I woke up to the soft golden light of the morning streaming through the curtains. For a moment, I forgot where I was. The sheets felt impossibly soft, the faint sound of waves crashing against the cliffs outside was soothing, and for just a few seconds, I let myself believe I was back in my old life, where things were simpler and where I still had control over my own fate.

But reality came crashing down like the tide.

I blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling and slowly turned my head. The other side of the bed was empty—untouched, as though no one had ever been there in the first place. My heart sank, though I didn’t know why I was surprised. Julian hadn’t exactly been warm or welcoming last night. The bitterness in his drunken words still lingered in the air, and I could still see the cold, unyielding look in his eyes. There was no reason for him to stay.

And yet, seeing the empty space beside me hurt more than I cared to admit.

I sat up, rubbing my temples in an attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion. My body felt heavy, weighed down by the events of the past day. The wedding, the whispers, the suffocating silence of the villa—it all played over in my mind like a cruel, never-ending loop. I reached for the silk robe draped over a chair and slipped it on before heading toward the bathroom.

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror was a stranger. My dark hair was still styled in the soft waves the stylist had worked so meticulously on, but they were now slightly frayed, a shadow of their former perfection. My eyes were rimmed with faint shadows, and my expression was hollow, as if someone had carved out all the life and energy I once had. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would help me feel something, anything. But all it did was leave me with a chill that sank deep into my bones.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I tightened the robe around my waist and opened it, revealing one of the villa staff members. She was young, with a kind face, though her expression was carefully neutral.

“Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood,” she said politely. The name sounded foreign, like it didn’t belong to me. “I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Blackwood left early this morning. He said he had urgent business to attend to.”

I stared at her for a moment, the words sinking in slowly. “Oh,” I said finally, forcing a small smile. “Thank you for letting me know.”

She nodded and left without another word, leaving me standing in the doorway. My chest felt tight, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Julian had every right to leave. He’d made it clear from the start that this marriage was nothing more than a business arrangement, a contract signed under the weight of our families’ expectations. I shouldn’t have expected anything from him—not kindness, not consideration, and certainly not companionship.

Still, the knowledge that he’d left without a word stung in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

By the time I returned to the penthouse later that afternoon, my emotions were a tangled mess. The ride back had been quiet, the city blurring past the window as I stared out in silence. I felt numb, like I was floating outside of myself, watching my life unfold from a distance. The penthouse was just as I’d left it. Cold, pristine, and devoid of warmth. I dropped my small overnight bag by the door and kicked off my shoes, letting them fall where they landed.

I sank onto the couch, my head falling back against the cushions as I stared up at the ceiling. The weight of the day pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that Julian’s indifference didn’t bother me. But the ache in my chest told a different story.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling me from my thoughts. I reached for it, hesitating when I saw Margot’s name on the screen. Her message was short, as always.

'Hey, want to grab a drink? You need a break.'

I stared at the text for a moment, debating whether or not to respond. A drink sounded tempting. Anything to get out of this empty, lifeless penthouse and away from the storm of emotions I couldn’t seem to escape. But the thought of facing the world, of pretending everything was fine, felt exhausting.

Then I thought of Julian. He’d walked away without a second thought, without so much as a goodbye. Why should I sit here, wallowing in his indifference? He clearly didn’t care about me. Why should I care about him?

'Sure,' I typed back before I could change my mind. 'Where?'

Margot’s reply came almost instantly. 'That new rooftop bar on Fifth. Meet me in an hour?'

I glanced at the clock. I could do this. I needed to do this. I need to breathe.

The bar was beautiful. Strings of fairy lights hung overhead, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. The air was filled with the hum of conversation and the faint clinking of glasses, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a spark of normalcy. Margot was already there, perched on a stool near the edge of the bar, her smile bright and inviting as she waved me over.

“You made it!” she said, pulling me into a quick hug. “You look great, by the way. I don’t know how you do it. I’d probably be a mess after everything you’ve been through.”

Her words made me laugh, though the sound felt hollow. “Thanks. I don’t feel great, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Margot handed me a menu, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good. Because tonight, we’re forgetting about everything. No husbands, no fathers, no drama. Just drinks and girl talk. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, though my smile didn’t quite reach my eyes.

We ordered cocktails and settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation. For a little while, I let myself relax. I laughed at Margot’s jokes, sipped my drink, and tried to forget about the mess waiting for me back at the penthouse.

But then I heard it—a voice I knew all too well. Low, smooth, and unmistakably Julian’s.

My stomach twisted. I turned my head instinctively, my heart pounding as my eyes searched the crowd. And there he was. Julian Blackwood, leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand and a charming smile on his face. He was talking to a woman in a red dress, her laughter ringing out as she leaned closer to him. Her hand brushed his arm, and he didn’t pull away.

I froze. My chest tightened as I watched them, my mind racing with emotions I didn’t know how to process. I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Julian, after all, the man who had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. I’d known he was a player, had known it long before I’d agreed to this farce of a marriage. But seeing him here, so carefree and charming, felt like a punch to the gut.

Margot followed my gaze and stiffened. “Are you kidding me?” she muttered. “He’s already out here flirting with someone else? That’s low, even for him.”

I tore my eyes away and focused on my drink, my fingers tightening around the glass. “It’s fine,” I said, though my voice wavered. “I don’t care.”

Margot raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because you look like you’re about to throw that drink in his face.”

I managed a weak laugh, though my throat felt tight. “I’m not in love with him,” I said quietly. “I barely even know him.”

“Then why does it bother you? Plus, I never said you are.” Margot asked gently.

I didn’t know how to answer. I shouldn’t care. Julian was a stranger, a man who treated me like an obligation. And yet, the sight of him laughing and flirting with someone else left me feeling hollow.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I just… I thought things might be different. That maybe we could at least try to make this work.”

Margot placed a comforting hand on my arm. “You deserve better than him, Elena. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re not enough.”

I nodded, though my gaze drifted back to Julian. I watched as he leaned closer to the woman, his smile dazzling. And in that moment, I realized the truth, I wasn’t sad because I wanted him. I was sad because, deep down, I’d hoped he might want me.

But he didn’t. And he never would.

I took a deep breath and turned back to Margot. “Let’s get another round,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m done thinking about him.”

Margot grinned and raised her glass. “Now that’s the spirit.”

I clinked my glass against hers, determined to push Julian Blackwood out of my mind. But even as I laughed and drank, I couldn’t quite shake the ache in my chest—or the nagging feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complicated.