THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET WIFE

6; I Want Her.

CHAPTER 6- “I Want Her”.

Alessandro Vittorio Bianchi.

My assistant looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes dilated slightly, “But, Sir, I thought you came to an agreement last night. They sent the signed documents earlier today.”

My fingers went to massage my temple, as my eyes flicked close for a moment, the headache returning in full force. Seems I might be in need of those hungover pills I am trying to avoid. “He spiked my drink,” I stated, “Took advantage of it to get me to sign it, then tried to set me up with some women.” My mind may have been hazy last night, so much that I was only partially aware when I signed the contract, but I was aware when he made those women come into what is supposed to be our private booth—where only us would converse the details of the meeting.

I only even agreed to meet there because it is one his businesses as well, and I am the one whom requested the meeting to be done yesterday, the minute I flew back in from my three-years long trip to Europe—Italy to be more specific. Family issues and all to be honest is the reason for my long stay.

He must have realized he did not convince me enough to sign the deal, so he resorted to unethical methods—probably thinking the women part would be the deal breaker, as if.

“What?” My assistant sounded taken aback that the man could have done such a thing…that he did do such a thing. “Do you want me to do something about the women?”

“Of course not,” My eyes flicked open, as I met his through the rearview mirror. “Nothing happened,” I left before it could. I trust myself under normal situations, but not when drugged in such state. I should have known better. ‘At least not with them,’ I wanted to add, but did not.

That patience I had tried to save by leaving before I could do something I would regret got down the drain when I met the woman from last night. I truly do not know what exactly is about her—I wanted to leave as well, only she did not seem to be in the best of states as well—that much was obvious.

Perhaps, it was that addicting scent that got to me, or it was that something about her felt familiar? I don’t know really but I found myself losing my composure, something I have never done with any woman before. But, even in such state, I knew very much what I said to her.

There is no going back. And that just goes beyond superficial meaning.

“Check the CCTV footage of the lobby of the VIP lounge,” I said again, “I want you to find me the woman from last night.”

I guess his suspicions of me spending the night with a woman last night got confirmed by my words, because his eyes dilated slightly but he dared not ask beyond that which I give out. Instead, he vocalize another problem I seemed to have forgotten.

“Okay, Sir. But, Mr. Bianchi Senior called,” His tone sounded hesitant. “Something about your…wife?”

Shit. My wife. Truthfully, I had forgotten that tiny detail in between last night and this morning.

The mention of her however made my mood dampen, as my face hardened, the same expression my assistant must be used to at this point. I could understand the confusion in his tone—he has been working for me for about a year now, he has no idea that I am married to begin with, since I never mention it.

It is not exactly something I am happy about. Who would be happy about being married to a gold digger?

I am reminded of our deal from three years ago though, and I knew it was time to put it in action. So, I leaned back on my seat, then spoke. “Reach out to Salvatore for her contact information,” I said, referring to my former assistant whom left a year ago before this one took over—the one aware of my marriage and took care of it three years ago. “Call, and ask her when she will be available for the divorce proceedings.”

His eyes dilated slightly, “Divorce, Sir?” He seemed to have said it without a second thought. So, when I slanted a glare in his direction, he realized his mistake and tried to cover it up hastily. “I am sorry, Sir. I was just…” He swallowed thickly, “…I will get on it right away.”

“Good,” I breathed out, then closed my eyes again as the drive continued. However, since her topic was brought out, I could not help but recall the conditions under which we got married.

The only reason why I agreed to marry her even was because of my grandfather and his relationship with her late father. However, when she asked of 100 million as her condition to marry me, I knew she was a gold digger right from the start and to think she does not even know who I really am or which family I am—all she knows is my English name, Victor White and that we are rich—just not how rich we are.

Regardless, I know she must be dissatisfied that we will be getting the agreed upon divorce, because she won’t be able to get another cent from me like she wants. Despite our agreement, I am well aware she asks for money through her mother to my grandfather over the past three years, and my hatred for her only grows.

I dislike her kind the most—but regardless, I have not once cheated on her…till last night. Weirdly enough, I do not regret it. Who knows what she has been doing over the past three years? Perhaps, she has been finding more men whom to milk money from.

Ultimately, I have my attention on someone—which is a first. The woman from last night, she seems to be the opposite of my soon to be ex-wife. If anything, the money she left behind serves as proof enough. She intrigues me.

I came to a conclusion…I want her.