Goodbye, Mr. Billionaire

Chapter3

Hazel’s POV

Rain fell all evening, covering Ellington Manor in silence, and under Kate's watchful eye, I found myself forced to share a room with Bryce, my husband.

I mocked myself for the discomfort. I had loved him so desperately once, lighting up at his smallest touch. That joy had died long ago.

He didn't seem to notice, reaching out to ruffle my hair. "Want to shower first?"

I pulled away, about to answer, when Madison's frantic knock rattled the door. Bryce opened it to find her standing there, eyes red and panicked. "Layla had a nightmare. She's burning up. Please come check on her."

He glanced back at me, and I felt only relief. "The child comes first," I said coolly. "I'll explain to Kate." I didn't want to share a room with him anyway.

He hesitated, then promised he'd be right back. I watched him go, knowing he wouldn't return. Years ago, when nightmares plagued me in this unfamiliar house, Bryce would stay beside me, whispering, "Shh, I'm here." We'd shared sweetness once. Now it felt like thorns in my throat.

It rained all night. By morning I could hear Bryce playing with Layla outside before he left for work. That evening was Grandfather Scott's birthday, and I'd arranged to meet Valerie to pick out a gift. Before I left, Layla grabbed Madison's hand and shot me a triumphant look.

"Uncle Bryce said he'll stay with Mommy and me every night. You'll be kicked out soon, and he'll be my daddy. You're just a leech. You’re so ugly and mean, and without him you'll have nothing!"

Madison only smiled thinly. "Ms. Westbrook, don't take a child's words to heart."

"Done pretending?" I asked.

She dropped the act instantly. "Bryce isn't here. Let's be honest. You know how he feels about me. I have a child to raise, and I need a man I can count on."

"Eric's barely cold in his grave," I said. "Does he know you've already found your next meal ticket?"

Her expression darkened. "He's dead. Should I mourn him forever? Bryce has been with us this whole time. Know your place."

"I don't know about other things," I said, "but tonight, he won't be with you." I understood Bryce too well. He cared about appearances too much to skip Grandfather's birthday.

I left her standing there and went to meet Valerie. We spent the afternoon browsing antique shops, and that evening Bryce picked me up as promised, driving toward the Westbrook mansion in the hills. Halfway there, his phone kept ringing endlessly, and he finally pulled over and picked it up. When he hung up, his brow was furrowed.

"Layla fell off a slide and hit her head. I need to get to the hospital. Madison's too shaken to handle it alone."

I stared at him, feeling nothing but a familiar, endless desolation. "Can't you send Spencer with her?" I tried, one last time.

"She's terrified. She won't stop crying. With Eric gone, I can't abandon her." His mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Fine," I said, and I meant nothing more by it than the word itself. I knew this had nothing to do with Eric. I simply didn't matter as his wife. I opened the door and stepped out into the wet wilderness.

"I'll send Spencer for you. Once I handle Layla, I'll come right over," Bryce said, giving me one long look before he drove away.

I stood watching his taillights vanish into the dark. The Westbrooks had always treated me cruelly, restrained only by the Sterling name and by Bryce. He knew I'd struggle alone tonight, and he'd left me anyway. The icy rain drenched me from head to toe, and I don't know how long I walked before my hands and feet went completely numb.

Headlights cut through the darkness behind me. In the back seat of a Maybach, a man sat half in shadow, turning a small, worn pink keychain between his fingers. His assistant spoke up, startled. "Mr. Sterling, that's... Ms. Westbrook."

Ryan Sterling looked out the window at me stumbling through the rain, dressed too lightly, numb to the cold, just as thin and pitiful as the day he'd first found me years ago.

"Drive," he said flatly.

"Mr. Sterling, if she keeps walking in this weather—"

"Worried about her? Go join her, then."

His assistant fell silent immediately.

Just as the window began to rise, a heavy thud sounded as I fell to the muddy ground pitifully. The cold had finally taken me. As my vision faded, a familiar scent drifted into my nose, and then everything went dark.

***

I woke up in a cold, damp storage room off the main house, a gray cashmere scarf wrapped around my neck, smelling faintly of cedarwood. Before I could remember who'd brought me there, cruel whispers reached my ears from just outside the door.

"What terrible luck, fainting on Grandfather's birthday. Just trying to ruin everyone's night."

"You think some knight in shining armor carried her in? Please. Someone probably just didn't want her dying in the street like a stray dog."

"Keep your voice down. Her husband's still Bryce Ellington."

"So what? His affair's all over town. He couldn't even show up. He'll divorce her any day now."

I sat up, folded the scarf carefully, and tucked it into my purse. Their words didn't really affect me anymore. I'd grown used to the Westbrooks' cruelty since I'd been brought back into this family. Bryce was no longer my refuge. I had to face this alone.

I smoothed my dress and walked straight into the banquet hall, presenting Scott with the gift Valerie and I had chosen. "Happy birthday, Grandfather."

He noticed Bryce's absence immediately, his smile fading. "As his wife, you need to be more understanding. Don't cause problems at home."

"Yes, Grandfather," I said, lowering my eyes.

I understood my only remaining value to this family. Even if Bryce kept a thousand mistresses, they'd still force me to bear the empty title of Mrs. Ellington.

Soon after, my mother Allison found me, launching into accusations before I could explain. "What emergency could matter to him more than your grandfather's birthday? This is your fault for being useless. Go find somewhere out of sight."

Zoey, the real Westbrook daughter, appeared with a look of fake concern. "Hazel, why don't you help at the gift table?"

I didn't understand her sudden kindness until I realized it wasn't kindness at all. Logging gifts and verifying checks was a lot to do, but I didn’t have a choice. I just kept working like unpaid help while everyone else celebrated.

A delivery arrived; a beautiful rare antique vase from the Sterling family, worth a fortune. The guests began to whisper. "I heard Ryan Sterling moved back. Think he's here tonight?"

My whole body went still. I searched the crowd before I could stop myself, then almost laughed at my own foolishness. Ryan never slipped in unnoticed. If he were here, the whole room would know it.

Zoey asked the delivery man directly, "Did Ryan come today?"

"No, Mr. Sterling is still overseas," he said.

My heart sank, and I couldn't tell if it was disappointment or relief. I looked down at my ink-stained hands. This wasn't how I wanted him to see me again.

"Hazel..."

I looked up to find Bryce standing there, his expression apologetic.

"Sorry, I’m late," he said.