The Billionaire's Forsaken Wife

Chapter 13

ROOSEVELT'S POV

Zyran froze.

He stared at the metal scissors next to my heels. He noticed the bright red blood on the white hospital floor. Then, he turned to Mina, who was loudly sobbing and clutching her sliced cheek.

"Mina!" Zyran yelled. His voice cracked with pure, terrifying panic.

He dropped to his knees beside her. He didn't care that his expensive clothes were soaking up the blood on the floor. He gently pulled her hands away from her face to see the wound.

The cut was deep and ugly and It was bleeding fast.

"She did it, Zyran!" Mina wailed, hiding her face against his chest. Her small shoulders shook with fake sobs. "She said I was in the way! She said I was too pretty, then she grabbed the scissors! She tried to hurt me!"

Zyran's head slowly turned. He looked up at me.

The man looking at me was not my husband. He wasn't the man who kissed me on the red carpet. His dark eyes were icy and filled with anger, he looked at me as if I were a monster.

"Zyran," I said. My voice surprised me, it was calm. The shock was so heavy, it numbed my body. "Look at my hands. Look at my clothes. There isn't a single drop of blood on me, she picked up those scissors and cut her own face."

"Liar!" Mina screamed, crying harder into his shirt. "She wiped her hands! She is crazy, Zyran! She is a psycho!"

"Shut up, Roosevelt," Zyran hissed at me.

He didn't look at my clean hands or think about the logic. He only saw his fragile childhood friend bleeding on the floor. His need to protect her blinded him to the truth.

"Help! We need a doctor out here now!" Zyran roared down the hallway.

Nurses rushed out of nearby rooms, two doctors ran over with a stretcher. They quickly lifted Mina, pressing thick white bandages against her bleeding cheek.

"Don't leave me, Zy-Zy," Mina cried weakly, reaching her bloody hand out to him as they rolled her away.

"I am right here," Zyran promised, walking beside the stretcher.

He stopped in front of me, he didn't shout or raise his hand. But his words cut deeper than any blade.

"I knew you were jealous," Zyran said, his voice a low, deadly whisper. "I knew you were angry about the Gala, but I never thought you were capable of such pure evil."

I stared at him, the air left my lungs.

"You don't believe me," I whispered. A single tear slipped down my cheek. "After four years of marriage... you really think I could do something like this?"

"I am looking right at the evidence," Zyran said coldly, pointing at the bloody scissors on the floor. "I can't even stand to look at your face right now. Go home, pack your things and move your clothes into the guest house at the back of the property. I don't want you in our bedroom."

He turned his back on me and followed the doctors down the hall.

I stood completely alone in the cold hospital corridor.

My heart didn't just break, it shattered into a million tiny pieces. The fight was over, no one wins against a woman who would slice her own face open just to frame me. And I couldn't save a marriage with a man so eager to believe the worst about his wife.

Suddenly, a painful cramp pulled at my lower stomach.

I gasped, grabbing the wall. No, I thought fiercely. I will not let this stress hurt my baby.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, forcing the pain down. I wiped my wet cheek and stood up straight. Zyran King was not worth my tears anymore, he was not worth my child's life.

I turned around and walked to the elevator.

I didn't drive to the mansion.

I drove straight to my office at Elite Interiors.

The building was quiet. Most of the staff had already gone home for the weekend. I walked into my private office and locked the door behind me.

I walked over to my large desk.

Sitting right in the center, exactly where I had left it, was the thick, glossy folder from Mr. Vance.

Milan. Three years. A fully funded escape.

I sat down in my leather chair and I looked at the folder, my hands were no longer shaking. My mind was clear.

I reached for my gold pen. I opened the folder to the last page, where a dotted line waited for my signature. It was a contract that would take me far away from Zyran and his toxic world.

I placed the tip of the pen on the paper. I didn't write Roosevelt King.

With smooth, steady strokes, I signed my maiden name. Roosevelt Evans.

"It's just you and me now, little one," I whispered, placing a gentle hand over my flat stomach. A small, sad smile touched my lips. "We are going to Italy."

I closed the folder and tucked it safely into the bottom of my large leather purse. A huge weight lifted off my chest, I was finally taking control.

I grabbed my car keys. I needed to go home quickly, pack my clothes and my passport, and leave before Zyran returned from the hospital.

The mansion was completely dark when I arrived.

I ran up the grand staircase to the master bedroom. I pulled my largest suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed. I didn't pack the expensive dresses or designer bags Zyran had bought me. I only packed my simple clothes, my comfortable shoes, and the tiny white box with my baby's ultrasound.

I was zipping up the suitcase when the bedroom door suddenly clicked open.

I gasped and spun around.

Zyran stood in the doorway.

He looked exhausted. His white shirt was stained with dried blood. His tie was gone. When he looked at me and then down at the large suitcase on the bed, the muscles in his jaw tightened dangerously.

"What are you doing?" Zyran asked. His voice was low and rough.

"I am packing," I said. I lifted my chin, refusing to show fear. "I am not moving to the guest house, Zyran. I am leaving."

Zyran stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"You are running away," he said, taking a slow step toward the bed. "You think you can just hurt someone and walk out the door?"

"I told you, I didn't touch her," I said firmly, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. "But you've already made up your mind, you chose her. So, you can have her, I am done."

Zyran's eyes flashed with a dark, complicated emotion. He definitely didn't look like a man who wanted his wife to leave.

"The doctor said the cut is deep," Zyran said, his voice dropping. "Mina will have a scar on her face forever because of you."

"She did it to herself!" I yelled, my patience finally breaking. "One day, when she drops her act, you will see the truth! You will see exactly what you lost!"

I pulled the suitcase off the bed and started toward the door. "Goodbye, Zyran."

I tried to walk past him, but Zyran moved fast. He stepped right in front of the door, blocking my way. His broad, solid chest felt like a brick wall.

"Move," I commanded, glaring up at him.

"You are not going anywhere," Zyran said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked the screen and shoved it right in front of my face.

I looked at the bright screen, my heart stopped completely.

It was a popular celebrity news website.

Right in the center was a clear, high-quality picture of me in my red dress. I was in the dark alley outside the Gala. Maverick Sterling was holding me tightly in his arms, lifting me into the back of his dark car.

The headline read:

Trouble in Paradise? Billionaire Zyran King's Wife Leaves Charity Gala in the Arms of His Biggest Rival, Maverick Sterling!

"The press is going crazy," Zyran said. His voice shook with a terrifying mix of anger and wounded pride. "They think my wife is cheating on me, they think my marriage is a joke."

He reached out and grabbed the handle of my suitcase, yanking it out of my hands. He tossed it onto the floor with a loud thud.

"You are going to unpack this bag," Zyran ordered, stepping closer until I was backed against the edge

of the bed. His dark eyes blazed with a possessive fire. "You are going to stay in this house, sleep in my bed, and hold my hand in public. You are not leaving this marriage until I clean up this mess."