THE DISGRACED HUSBAND IS A BILLIONAIRE

17: TO THE UNDERSIDE

The night swallowed George whole.

One drink became several. The burn in his throat dulled the chaos in his mind, but only for seconds at a time. It never lasted. It never fixed anything.

He knows that Gabriel is still angry with him, so he thinks that he should mind cooking his own food now for dinner if he didn't want to be hungry.

George sat slouched on the edge of the hotel bed, a glass hanging loosely from his fingers. The room smelled like alcohol and something hollow, like regret that hadn’t fully formed yet.

“I just want it to stop…” he muttered under his breath. “Even just for a moment…”

The girl beside him shifted slightly, watching him but not speaking. She didn’t know him. Didn’t understand the storm inside him.

And maybe that was the point.

George let out a dry laugh.

“Funny… you think you can drown it. But it just… floats back up.”

Before anything else he could say, a firm knock echoed through the room.

George frowned. “Ignore it.”

Another knock. Louder this time.

Then the door opened.

A man in uniform stepped inside, posture straight, presence controlled. His eyes immediately found George, but instead of meeting his gaze directly, they lowered in quiet respect.

“Mr. Werch,” the man said calmly, “your father sent me. He said you may go home now… He is waiting.”

George froze.

For a second, it was as if the alcohol vanished from his body system. Then his lips curled into something bitter.

"Waiting?” he repeated slowly.

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.

“Why wait?” His voice dropped, rough and uneven.

“When I was just a child… he left me with anyone he could ask” His grip tightened around the glass.

“He was always gone. Always too busy. Like I didn’t exist.”

The man in uniform remained silent, his gaze still lowered.

“He didn’t care about me,” George continued, his voice rising slightly, emotions slipping through. “Not once did he look back and ask if I was okay.”

The moment pauses in a second.

Then George laughed again, but this time, it cracked halfway through.

“And now?” he added. “Now that he’s rich… now that everything is convenient… suddenly I matter?”

Silence filled the room, and it was uncomfortable.

The man in uniform shifted slightly, clearly affected by the words, but careful not to overstep.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Werch,” he said quietly. “I cannot interfere… I am only here to deliver the message.”

George stared at him for a long moment.

Then his shoulders slowly dropped.

"It’s fine,” he said, softer now. “I understand.”

He looked down at his hands again, his voice almost a whisper.

“Maybe… it’s just how things are for me.”

A bitter smile formed on his lips.

“From childhood until now… maybe there are just people who are meant to leave me.” He exhaled shakily. “They come into my life… and eventually, they walk away anyway.”

The room felt smaller, and somehow it's colder.

George looked up again, his eyes distant, searching for something that wasn’t there.

“Tell me,” he said quietly, almost pleading, but trying not to sound like it, “what do others have… that I don’t?”

The man in uniform didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because some questions weren’t meant to be answered. And some wounds. Ran too deep for words to reach.

"Hey man...Do you know of any decent jobs that an ex-con can get?"

The confused man hesitated, but still he manages to control his composure.

"Well, Mr. Werch aside from being a farmer, maybe a butcher?!"

"A butcher?" George reacted.

"If you haven’t heard, your father owns a cattle ranch in another town. There’s a small slaughterhouse there, and his partners are small business owners who buy the meat. This is his way of helping people in the town who want to earn from the meat business, at a low price "

“I will work as a butcher. Tell my father that I chose this so I can earn more before I meet him.”

The man in uniform nodded and left.

George started talking to a stranger, she is a young lady. Beside him, the girl laughing louder than necessary, saying things he wouldn’t remember.

The girl is pretty, sexy in her curve with blonde hair. Smiling in a way that didn’t ask questions.

George didn’t ask her name, because he didn’t care.

But later on, everything blurred together, the alcohol clouding his thoughts. Although love is said to be gentle, it is more often blind. Love is pure for the other long-term partners. It's only a matter of time, according to some.

George inhaled deeply while gazing at her face. He is fully aware that she is a college girl who tries to have this job as a part time, he understands her.

He lifted her dress over her head, exposing the alluring curves of her figure , for his eyes to admire. As he leaned in closer, he allowed his tongue to lightly touch her full lower lip, prompting the girl to move slightly, inviting him to delve deeper into her mouth.

His hands stroked down her back, fingers massaged her spine, and reaching her buttocks, then he said, "First time?"

The girl hesitate. "Yes Sir... I'm still a virgin"

"That's fine.. I'll be gentle.." George whispered to her ear.

"Put your arms around my neck, and spread your knees." George said. His alluring voice ignited a wave of longing, prompting the girl to obey with his request.

He pressing her delicate breasts against his broad, muscular chest. The sensation of her n*****s hardening and elongating was heightened as they made contact with the thick, dark hair that adorned his torso.

The girl looked into his eyes and melted as she saw in the depths of his smoldering gaze.