Indulging The Billionaire: My Son’s Secret Father.

Chapter 2

~~Joan’s POV~~

I raised my head to meet my husband’s cold gaze on me. I shiver in fear as memories of what happened yesterday night hit me. Seeing the bright sunlight seeping through the curtains, I knew it was another day.

The familiar beeping sound of the hospital machine in the room, and the strong smell of disinfectant that filled the air makes me know that I’m in a hospital. How I arrived here was a blur.

“Wha… What’s the meaning of this, Michael? You want to divorce me?” I groaned in pain as I tried sitting up from the hospital bed.

He didn’t bother to help me. I arched my head in a way I could look up to him since he was standing beside my hospital bed, his hands tucked in his pants pocket.

“Irene is pregnant with my child. I owe her and our unborn baby a complete family. If I don’t divorce you, how would I give her and our child a complete family?”

Michael’s reminder of the life he had created outside our marriage hit me like a second blow, harder than yesterday’s revelation.

He wasn't sorry, nor remorseful while announcing the news of his infidelity. I could even see the joy radiating in his eyes.

“How could you do this to me, Michael?” That was the only word I could say, my eyes were already welled up in tears. A knife to my chest could have hurt less.

Pregnancy is a sensitive topic to me. For the past three years I’ve been married to Michael, I’ve never been pregnant for once.

For three years, I had hoped, begged, cried to have a child of my own. I had been blamed, pitied, mocked, due to my inability to take in. And now, Irene is pregnant. She had everything I didn’t. The perfect weapon to trap Michael.

“How could I impregnate another woman?” Michael spat out in disgust. “Do you know how I was being mocked out there for being unable to father a child?” He gnashes his teeth in anger.

“Do you know how many times I had to sit there and listen to subtle insults, hidden mockery all because I married you?” His blaming words landed like a slap. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

“Until I met Irene,” he went on, and for the first time in months, there was something disturbingly close to admiration in his tone. “She didn’t judge me. She didn’t make me feel less of a man. She understood me.”

My fingers tightened around the bedsheet covering my legs. How dare he say another woman understood him?

“And guess what?” he added, letting out a short, mocking laugh. “It happened just once.”

My heart skipped painfully, my fingers turning white at my tight grip on the bedsheet.

“Just once, Joan,” he repeated, his eyes locking onto mine with a cruel glint. “That’s all it took. One time and she got pregnant, unlike you who had wasted three years of my life.”

My breath hitched, my mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. The room went completely silent, even the beeping machine seemed distant.

My tears kept on pouring as his words kept on ringing in my ears.

I’ve gone for a series of medical checkups, but I was always told that I’m in a perfect condition and fertile. My inability to get pregnant remains a misery. I stared at the divorce papers, my eyes twitching.

The bold letters spelling DIVORCE kept on looking at me. For a fleeting second, memories rushed in. Our wedding day, the vows I clung to, the nights I cried myself to sleep waiting for him to come home.

I tried to be the perfect wife for the past three years. Was this really all that was left of those years? Is this how my marriage would end?

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. Something inside me went quiet. Not shattered. Just still. The tears stopped.

The pain didn’t disappear, but it dulled — like my heart had finally grown tired of fighting for something that never truly existed.

A slow breath left my lips as I looked at Michael. I really looked at him this time, hoping I would even see a tiny bit of emotion in his eyes, but all that was in there was impatient.

There was no love there. No regret. No us.

And in that moment, I understood something clearly, painfully, but truthfully. I had been holding on to a marriage that only I believed in. A faint, almost sad smile touched my lips.

I grabbed the divorce papers and my fingers reached for the pen on the stool, but when the tip hovered over the line where my name belonged, I hesitated for a second.

I swallowed hard and forced my hand to move. With one shaky breath, I pressed the pen down and signed my name. This marriage had ended a long time ago. I just don’t want to admit it.

“Congratulations Michael, you finally got what you wanted.” I said after singing and threw the papers in his face, not minding the coldness radiating from him.

Yesterday wasn’t the first time he would be hitting me, hitting me today won’t make any difference. I could see his fingers clenching into a fist, trying to control something within himself, but I didn’t care.

I’m done with this hell called marriage. I deserved more than being tolerated. Three years ended in a single stroke. And for the first time in years, I chose myself.

“At least you know what’s good for you. My lawyer would meet up with you later this evening to finalize our divorce. You will receive the alimony too.” Michael said through clenched teeth, his jaw ticking with irritation.

From his body language, I knew he had expected a fight, expected me to make a scene, and even begged him not to divorce me, maybe even tore the papers and threw it at him.

He thought he would have to force me to let go because of how pathetically obsessed I had once been with him. My quick response to signing the papers was a shock to him. I could feel it.

“Suit yourself.” I murmured, turning away. I slid back into the comfort of the hospital bed, turning my back at him. I covered myself with a blanket. My hands tightly gripped the blanket as I fought not to break down in front of him.

He doesn’t deserve my tears, not anymore. The hospital room was silent. I could feel his burning gaze on me, but I held back, fighting the urge not to satisfy his expectations.

“Let’s see how arrogant you are after everyone in Paris gets to know that you are no longer Mrs. Lewis. Let’s see the unfortunate man who would dare to marry an infertile woman like you.”

His harsh remarks broke the silence, his words struck like a slap on my cheek. How could he say such a thing to me?

But I stayed still, my grip on the blanket tightening as I tried to hold back the sob that threatened to escape my throat. A few seconds passed before I heard the sound of his shoes hitting the floor as he turned to leave, his anger evidence in his powerful stride.

The door opens, then pauses. His eyes were on me. That I knew. It seems like he was waiting, hoping to see the sight of me breaking at his last words, but I gave him nothing.

Moments later, the door slammed shut behind me, breaking the last bit of control of my body. My tears fell as I sobbed in silence. I could still feel the weight of his last words pressing against my skin like bruises.

I tried not to cry, consoling myself that he wasn’t worthy of my tears, but the past years I’ve wasted trying to be the perfect wife, perfect daughter-in-law flooded my mind like a montage I couldn’t escape.

I don’t know how long I’ve been crying. A soft knock on the door brought me out of my self pity. I hurriedly cleaned my tears with the back of my hand.

“Come in.” I said to whoever was at the door with a hoarse voice.

“Good day, Miss Laurent.” I slowly sit up to meet the familiar face of Michael’s lawyer, attorney John. I just nodded my head to acknowledge him. Without looking at the mirror, I know I look broken but I don’t care.

I could see the look of pity that flashed attorney John’s eyes as he walked towards the sofa across the room.

“I’m here to finalize your divorce with Mr. Lewis.” Attorney John stated as he pulled out some papers from his black bag.

“Mr. Lewis had given you his villa situated in La Muette, and a hundred million dollars credit card.” I just stared at Attorney John as he spoke to show that I was listening.

I never uttered a word from the beginning to the end. I watched as Attorney John packed his bag, stood up and left after all was done.

Finally, my divorce with Michael was finalized in silence, without the knowledge of our families, who had arranged our marriage.

I could imagine how angry my parents would be if they found out that I’ve divorce my husband, but I don’t care anymore. It’s time for me to choose my happiness over pleasing my family.

I was betrothed to Micheal after I finished high school seven years ago. As a daughter of one of the prominent families in Paris, I don’t have the privilege to make decisions about my own marriage, so I accepted Michael as my fiancé. Since then, I’ve seen myself as the mistress of the Lewis family, until a few minutes ago.

Four years of being his fiancé, and three years of being his wife after graduating from college, all results in nothing.

I’ve wasted seven years of my life on a man who wasn’t worth it. As I thought about my pathetic sacrifices, my lips curled up in a self mocking smile.

My eyes scanned the room until I locked my gaze on the divorce papers that were placed on the stool beside my bed.

I took them. It’s time for me to wake up. I picked up my clutch bag and my phone that was placed on the stool. I placed the evidence of my ended marriage and my phone into my clutch bag.

No need for me to check the news, I knew all that happened yesterday at my third wedding anniversary would be all over the internet. With a small groan, I stood up from the bed with my bag in hand and walked out of the hospital room, my body screaming in pain.

I didn’t change out of my hospital gown. I didn’t care about the gazes that were shot my way. I kept on moving. As I was about to walk out of the hospital main entrance, my eyes fell on a familiar figure not far away, walking towards me.

“It’s him.” I muttered as I watched his figure get larger as he got closer to me. Although my vision was blurry yesterday night, I still remember seeing this man’s handsome face at my anniversary turn humiliation party. He had saved me like a hero from my ex-husband’s abuse.

The moment he reached my side, a sharp voice cut through the air as a stretcher came rushing down the hallway at full speed. “Move! Move!”

Everything happened too fast.

Before I could react, the edge of the moving trolley brushed hard against my side, throwing me off balance. A soft gasp escaped my lips as I lost my footing.

Pain shot through my already weak body, and for a split second, I thought I was going to hit the ground.

Instinct took over. My hand shot out and grabbed onto the nearest thing which turned out to be him.

My fingers clutched the sleeve of his suit tightly as I steadied myself against him, my body trembling slightly from the sudden impact.

For a moment, the world tilted. My head spun, my vision blurring again.

I didn’t even realize how close I was to him until I felt the solid warmth of his arm beneath my grip. His body went rigid.

“Let go.” Before I could retract my hand, his deep, commanding voice cut through me like a whip, shame dying my cheeks red.

Slowly, I unwrapped my fingers from his arm, embarrassed beyond words. My lips parted, desperate to explain, to apologize, however my desperation turned into anger the moment he opened his mouth and spoke again.

~~Alexander’s POV~~

It had been a while a woman had the audacity to hold me in public. As I trailed my eyes up to the person who had the courage to stop me, a look of surprise flashed across my eyes.

It’s her. A voice screams in my head. She was the woman I saved yesterday night from that woman-beating bastard. I remembered her because she left quite an impression yesterday.

I had saved her yesterday because she made me remember some unpleasant memories. If not, I wouldn’t even glance at her twice.

She looked quite pitiful. She looked exhausted, broken. Her hospital gown hangs loosely on her fragile frame.

Her trembling fingers slipped from my arm, and she stood there, pale and pitiful, eyes lowered like a scolded child. For a moment, I almost pitied her, but pity wasn’t something I could afford.

“Had you stopped your husband with this much courage yesterday, he wouldn’t have had the audacity to strike you… or humiliate you like he did yesterday.”

My voice came out harsher than I expected, but I didn’t bother to tone it down. My words are not meant as comfort, but as the f*****g truth.

”You…” The word escaped her trembling lips, a look of anger or hurt would I say, flash through her eyes. Her fingers were clenched into fists beside her.

Before she could continue whatever she wanted to say, the sharp ring of her phone cut her off, giving me the distraction I needed.

I didn’t glance back. By the time she pressed the phone to her ear, I had already disappeared into the crowd, leaving her with my words ringing louder than the caller’s voice.