The Billionaire's Forsaken Wife

Chapter 22

MINA’S POV

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of the hospital bathroom.

A white bandage covered the left side of my face. The doctor had just discharged me. He told me the cut was too deep and said the scar would never fade.

I gripped the edges of the porcelain sink until my knuckles turned white.

I had lost everything. The beautiful Lakeview Penthouse, the $250,000 diamond ring was taken by the police. The Foundation Director title was gone. And worst of all, Zyran had dropped the charges against me, but only if I left the country forever.

He chose her. He picked that boring, pathetic woman over me.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a tiny, glass vial. I had paid a night nurse a lot for this little bottle. It contained a heavy, untraceable sedative mixed with a powerful stimulant. It made the mind go blank, but it made the body burn with a desperate heat.

A wicked smile formed on my lips. The bandage pulled painfully against my skin, but I didn’t care.

You think you can just throw me away, Zyran? I thought, slipping the vial into my pocket. If I cannot have your heart, I will take something else. I will leave you with a secret that will destroy your perfect marriage.

I walked out of the hospital and took a cab to a Lounge, an exclusive bar downtown. It had private rooms upstairs for VIP guests.

I sat in a dim corner booth and waited.

Exactly at nine o'clock, Zyran walked in.

He looked incredibly handsome in his suit, but his face was devoid of warmth. He didn’t look at me with pity or love anymore, his eyes were completely dead. He walked over to the booth and stood, looking down at me. He didn’t even sit.

He reached into his jacket and tossed a white envelope onto the table.

"There is a first-class ticket to London leaving at midnight," Zyran said. His voice was cold. "And a bank draft for two million dollars. That’s more than enough to start a new life. My driver is waiting outside to take you straight to the airport."

I looked at the envelope, forcing tears to fill my eyes. "Zyran... please. My face hurts. I have nowhere to go."

"You did this to yourself, Mina," he said coldly, not showing any sympathy. "You burned down the home I gave you and you tried to frame my wife. You are lucky I’m not letting you rot in prison. Take the money and leave, this is the last time we will ever speak."

He turned to walk away.

"Wait!" I cried out, grabbing his sleeve. He flinched and pulled his arm away. I swallowed my anger and put on my best, most broken face. "Just... one last drink. Please, Zy-Zy. For the kids we used to be. Five minutes, and then I will walk out that door forever."

Zyran stopped. He looked at the bandage on my face. A tiny shred of guilt flickered in his eyes. He let out a heavy sigh and sat down across from me.

"Five minutes," he warned.

I signaled the waiter. "Two glasses of your best scotch, please."

When the drinks arrived, I waited for Zyran to look down at his phone. My hands moved quickly. I popped the cover off the tiny vial and poured the liquid straight into hisbdrink. It dissolved instantly.

Zyran put his phone away and picked up the glass.

"Goodbye, Mina," he said flatly.

He raised the glass and drank the scotch at once.

I smiled behind my own glass. "Goodbye, Zyran."

It didn’t take long. Within three minutes, Zyran’s shoulders slumped. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to clear a sudden fog. He reached up and loosened his tie, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

"It is... hot in here," Zyran muttered, his voice thick and slurred. A flush crept up his neck. He tried to stand, but his knees buckled, he fell back into the booth.

"Zyran? Are you okay?" I asked, pretending to be worried. I slid into the seat next to him and wrapped my arm around his waist. His skin was burning through his shirt.

"I feel dizzy," he groaned, closing his eyes. His breathing became heavy. The drug was working perfectly. His mind was shutting down while his body woke up. He leaned his head against my shoulder, completely helpless.

"You just need to rest," I whispered sweetly in his ear. "Come on. I will help you upstairs."

I signaled the bartender, who knew not to ask questions when a billionaire rented a private room. I pulled Zyran’s arm over my shoulder and guided his body up the stairs to a VIP suite.

I pushed the door open and let him fall onto the bed.

Zyran groaned, rolling onto his back. He was totally out of it. The drug made him hot, he grabbed his shirt and ripped the buttons open, desperate to cool his burning skin.

I locked the door and walked over to the bed. I slowly took off my coat.

I crawled onto the mattress and straddled his hips. I leaned down, pressing my hands against his hot chest.

Zyran’s eyes fluttered open. They were glazed over, unfocused. The drug was stirring a desperate hunger in him. He reached up blindly, gripping my waist.

He pulled me down hard against his chest.

"Roosevelt," Zyran groaned, burying his face into my neck. He kissed my skin hungrily, completely lost in the drug's illusion. "My wife... Roosevelt."

My blood boiled, even now, completely drugged, he was calling her name.

I gritted my teeth but forced a sweet smile.

"Yes, darling," I whispered, running my hands through his dark hair. "It's me. I am right here."

I leaned down and captured his lips, taking everything he thought he was giving to her.

ZYRAN’S POV

Bright sunlight streamed through my closed eyelids.

A sharp pain hammered against my skull. My mouth felt dry, like it was stuffed with cotton.

I groaned, rolling over to bury my face in the pillows. But the pillows didn't smell like the fresh lavender Roosevelt used at home. They smelled different.

My eyes snapped open.

I wasn't in my master bedroom. I was in a strange, dimly lit hotel room.

I sat up quickly. The sudden movement made the room spin. I grabbed my head and squeezed my eyes shut until the nausea passed.

When I opened my eyes again, the sheets fell away from my chest. I looked down. I was completely naked.

Panic slammed into my chest.

"What the hell?" I rasped, my voice cracking.

I looked around the room, It was empty. The bed next to me was messy and there was no one else.

I threw the blankets off and stumbled out of bed. My clothes were scattered all over the floor. My white shirt was missing three buttons, my tie was thrown over a lampshade.

I grabbed my pants and pulled them on, my hands shaking.

I tried to remember. I forced my brain to think.

I went to the Lounge, I remembered. I met Mina. I gave her the ticket to London and told her to leave.

And then what?

I remembered taking a sip of scotch. Then... nothing.

A few blurry images flashed in my mind. I remembered feeling hot, I remembered soft hands touching me and the smell of sweet perfume.

No, I thought, my heart pounding. No, no, no. I wouldn't. I didn’t.

I thought I went home. In my messed-up memories, I thought I was holding Roosevelt. I remembered calling her name.

I looked around the room frantically. There was no note. No sign of Mina. Just an empty glass of water on the nightstand.

Did I drink too much? I never lost control like this. I never blacked out.

A wave of dread washed over me. I felt dirty. I felt completely disgusted with myself. I didn’t know what happened in this room, but the evidence was scattered all over the floor.

I grabbed my ruined shirt and pulled it on. I found my phone in my jacket pocket.

The screen lit up. It was 8:00 AM.

I had ten missed calls from my driver, who was probably still waiting outside the bar, and two missed calls from Roosevelt.

Seeing my wife's name on the screen made my chest ache. She was waiting for me at home. We had just fixed our marriage. I had just promised her to change, and now, I was waking up naked in a cheap VIP room with no memory of the night before.

"God, what did I do?" I whispered, rubbing my hands over my face.

I didn't have time to stand here and panic. I needed to get out of this place. I needed to get home to my wife.

I grabbed my suit jacket, didn't even bother with the tie, and practically ran out of the room. I kept my head down as I rushed down the back stairs of the bar and out into the morning light.

I didn't know where Mina was, I didn't even know if she got on the plane to London.

All I knew was that I had a dark secret now. And if Roosevelt ever found out I woke up in a hotel room the night I was supposed to banish my ex-girlfriend, it would destroy my marriage forever.