The Billionaire’s Neglected Wife

Chapter 7

By the time Emily stumbled into the bedroom, she felt like she’d been hit by a car.

Her limbs were shaky, her skin clammy, and her stomach rolled with a vague but persistent nausea. She collapsed onto the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting into the sheets as she tried to catch her breath.

Emotionally, she was bruised. Stripped bare.

The confrontation during breakfast had drained her, but there was a strange, stubborn flutter of triumph in her chest. For once, Nicolas hadn’t simply dismissed her. He’d listened…maybe not with empathy, but with a certain stillness that suggested he’d actually heard her.

It was a promising start.

Her thoughts were a chaotic mess, and instinctively she reached for the old landline telephone on the nightstand, craving a familiar voice, a moment of comfort. Maybe she’d call her aunt Maria. She would've preferred to talk to Quinn but she didn't want to bother her.

Aunt Maria would have to do…. She just needed to talk to anyone who could help her make sense of the mess unraveling around her and give her more strength.

She lifted the receiver, only to freeze.

There was already ringing on the other end of the line.

Her heart stuttered.

Someone was on the extension. She recognized the faint echo of the line… and then the ringing stopped.

Her fingers remained curled around the receiver, about to hang up, when a clipped, authoritative voice answered.

“Matteo Russo.”

Emily’s spine stiffened. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Her father?

She held her breath.

Nicolas’s voice followed, unmistakably cold. “Hello, Russo. Are you aware your daughter wants a divorce.”

The words hit her like a slap. She sat frozen, the receiver pressed tightly to her ear, unable to move.

“What?! What do you mean Emiliana wants to get a divorce?” her father barked. “A divorce cannot happen now. That's impossible.”

Emily’s mouth parted in silent shock.

What does he mean by it's impossible?

“I'm aware that we can't get a divorce now,” Nicolas replied dryly. “But clearly, your daughter does not. Is she not aware of our agreement?”

Agreement? Emily’s pulse spiked.

“Why would I tell that one,” her father scoffed. “She would have ruined things for me if I had told her the real deal we had. The little fool married you because she was head over heels in love with you, Stone.”

He laughed.

Her stomach turned.

The room spun around her as her father’s words echoed in her ears. A fool. That was how he saw her. That was how they both saw her.

“Love? All this time she didn’t know?” Nicolas said, his tone distant. “I thought she had agreed as the Daddy's pet that she is. I believed she went along with this marriage just to fulfil your wishes.”

There was a pause.

Emily clutched the phone tighter, her other arm wrapping around her waist as if that alone could hold her together.

“Look, it was better that things happened that way. Would you have gone along with our agreement if you knew for a fact that she loved you?” Matteo asked.

“She really has no single idea of our agreement? Not even a clue?” he added after a long, breathless silence.

“She knows nothing. I expected you to discuss things with her, clearly you didn't.” her father replied dismissively.

“So, let me get this straight,” Nicolas said slowly, with disbelief laced through every word, “Emiliana married me because she thought I loved her back?”

“Obviously. She's that stupid.” Matteo snorted. “My silly daughter grew up believing in all those silly fairytales with love, prince charmings and happy endings. Her mother is to blame for that. Anyway, you're the man of her childhood dreams come to life. So it was easy to deceive her.”

“How could you let her think I loved her?” Nicolas asked, voice rising.

“Oh please. Think about how it's benefitted us, Stone. I admit, it was amusing for me to watch her act so sweet and lovestruck while knowing you didn't feel the same for her,” her father sneered. “But like I said, It was better that things happened that way.”

“How it's benefitted us,” Nicolas repeated, voice flat with disgust. “You're mistaken, Russo. This is all you. It benefitted you. If I had known, we–”

“Please just drop it, Stone,” Matteo snapped. “You gained more than enough from this deal. So don’t act like I played you and pretend you’re the victim. Even if you’d known about her fairytale dreams, things would’ve been the same.”

“But…but…she’s your daughter,” Nicolas suddenly shouted, rage breaking through his usual control. “You should’ve cared about her feelings instead of using them!”

Emily nearly dropped the phone. She had never heard him raise his voice like that before, not even at her.

But her father didn’t falter. “I use what I can to get what I want,” he said coldly. “She's been a waste to me from the day she was born and now that I finally got the chance to make her useful, you’re complaining? She is my daughter, so I get to do whatever I want with her. Just get the thing pregnant. After you have a child with her, go ahead with the divorce.”

There was silence.

Emily stared straight ahead, unable to breathe.

Her role. Her purpose. Get pregnant. That was all they wanted from her.

“You know what is at stake if this marriage crashes now, don't you?” Matteo added smoothly.

Nicolas was quiet for a while.

“Yes, I know,” he said eventually, voice quieter. “I'm tired of this too and I'd like to get things done so I can finally be free.”

That broke something in Emily.

So that was it. She was a nuisance. She was holding him back. He never even saw their marriage as real. She was just a pawn in a sick game between two powerful men.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back. She wouldn’t cry for either of them.

“Well, why don't you get done with it,” Matteo said. “It's taken too long already.”

“You know we've tried and we're still trying. Things happened too,” Nicolas replied, and Emily’s brow furrowed.

What is he talking about now?

“We shouldn't just rush things…I mean, we should let her heal first.”

A strange buzzing started in her ears as she tried to piece together what they were saying.

Rush things? Heal first?

And then—

“The silly girl can't even be a proper woman. How hard is it to carry a baby?” her father snapped.

It finally clicked.

Her breath whooshed from her lungs as if someone had punched her. Her fingers trembled around the receiver.

The miscarriages.

That’s what they were talking about.

The arrangement was giving Nicolas a child. A son.

And she had failed. Failed at the only thing they’d apparently wanted from her.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Nicolas said quietly. “It’s not like she caused it to happen.”

But his defense felt hollow. Insincere.

“Well, forget that,” her father dismissed, “just get her pregnant as soon as possible. Sleep with her everyday if you have to. You're a young man filled with life so that should be easy for you to do. Even if you find her repulsive, just be quick with it.”

Emily swallowed a sob.

Her own father couldn't care less about her.

“When she gives birth,” Matteo continued. “Serve her the divorce papers as a push gift, then you're free to move on with that Isabelle woman of yours. The woman you truly love, from what I heard.”

Emily’s mind reeled.

Isabelle?

Of course. Of course there was someone else.

Isabelle was the real life Nicolas wanted to get back to.