DIVORCED BY THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND.HE REGRETTED

Chapter 6

Poor Bruce, who hadn't touched makeup in his life, came back with Fariana's $500 makeup bag like it was a bomb.

He was holding it with two fingers, far away from his body, like it might explode.

Fariana was already sitting on her vanity chair, legs crossed like a queen. Robe on. Hair pinned up. Phone ready on record in her lap.

Dolly was furious while watching from the doorway because SHE used to be the one Bruce did everything for. Now she had to stand there and watch him serve someone else. Her red nails dug into the door frame.

Fariana felt a little sad for a second. Just a tiny second. Because she saw how much Bruce wanted that signature. He wanted their marriage DONE. He wanted her gone that badly. The sadness came and went fast — she replaced it with ice.

Bruce unzipped the bag and stared inside. Twenty brushes, ten lipsticks, bottles he couldn't even name.

"Which one is first?" he muttered.

"Foundation," Fariana said sweetly. "If you know what that is, Mr. CEO."

He grabbed the bottle of foundation and squeezed out HALF the bottle into his palm.

Fariana's eyes widened. "Bruce—"

He started putting on foundation with his hands like lotion. Like he was applying sunscreen at the beach. Smearing it hard across her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

It was too much. Way too much.

Fariana looked like a stupid ghost. Pale, cakey, with streaks everywhere.

From the doorway, Dolly burst out laughing. "Jesus, she looks like a clown!"

Bruce's jaw tightened. He was embarrassed. His ears were red.

Fariana looked in the mirror, kept a completely straight face, and said, "Wow, Bruce. For a CEO who runs a Fortune 500 company, you have the artistic talent of a 5-year-old. Do it again."

"What?"

"I said, wipe it off. And do it again."

Bruce stared at her. "Fariana—"

"That was the deal, remember? You do what I say. Or I don't sign."

Dolly rolled her eyes. "Just do it, Bruce. The faster you finish humiliating yourself, the faster we get rid of her."

So he had to wipe it all off with a makeup wipe. Fariana's expensive foundation — gone. He wasted like $40 worth in one swipe.

Second try. He used less this time, but now he missed spots. Her neck was still brown while her face was white.

Third try. He finally got the base somewhat decent.

Then came the eyeliner.

This was the real disaster.

He tried eyeliner and his hand was shaking — because he was so mad and so embarrassed — so he drew it all the way to her temple. One long, black, shaky line that looked like a war scar.

Dolly howled. "Oh my God! STOP! She really does look like a clown now!"

Fariana didn't laugh. She looked in the mirror at her ruined face, at Bruce's sweaty face so close to hers, and she kept her voice calm.

"Again."

"Fariana, come on!"

"Again, Bruce."

He wiped it. Started over.Three times.

By the third time, his face was sweaty. His $2,000 expensive shirt had lipstick fingerprints on it because Fariana kept "accidentally" touching him. His hair, which was always perfect, was messy because he'd been running his hand through it in frustration.

And Fariana was secretly recording him on her phone. The billionaire CEO, on his knees, holding a tiny eyeliner brush like a weapon, muttering, "I have a board meeting tomorrow, I have shareholders, and I'm doing... eyeliner."

On the fourth try, something changed.

He leaned in closer. Too close. One hand gently held her chin to keep her steady. His other hand was still shaking, but less now. He was focused. His eyes were locked on hers.

He finally got it. A thin, almost perfect wing.

Their faces were inches apart. She could smell his cologne — the same one he wore on their wedding day. He could see her real eyes again, without the foundation, without the anger for just one second.

For one second, it wasn't servant and queen. It was just Bruce and Fariana again.

And Dolly SAW that second.

Her fake smile vanished.

"Are you done FLIRTING with your wife?" Dolly snapped from the door, her voice sharp and jealous. "We have a divorce to get, remember? Or did you forget while you were playing makeup artist?"

The moment broke.

Fariana leaned back in her chair, smiled at Dolly in the mirror — her face still half ghost, half clown — and said in the sweetest voice:

"Who said anything about flirting? He's just my servant. Right, Bruce?"

Bruce didn't answer. He just stared at the eyeliner in his hand, breathing hard, his shirt stained, his pride on the floor.

And Fariana pressed STOP on her recording.