The Billionaire's Forsaken Wife

Chapter 24

ROOSEVELT’S POV

I woke up feeling fingers tracing my shoulder.

I slowly opened my eyes.

Zyran lay on his side next to me, propped up on one elbow. His hair was messy from sleep, and a relaxed smile played on his lips. He looked completely at ease.

"Good morning, beautiful," Zyran whispered, his voice deep and raspy from sleep. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Good morning," I smiled, stretching my legs under the blankets. I rolled closer to him and rested my head against his bare chest. "What time is it?"

"It doesn't matter," Zyran murmured, wrapping his arms around me. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "I cleared my entire schedule for the rest of the week. I am not leaving this house and definitely not leaving you."

My heart fluttered happily. The tension that had suffocated our marriage over the past few weeks was completely gone.

We stayed in bed for another hour, just talking. Zyran told me about a new art gallery he wanted to take me to. I mentioned a new color palette I wanted for the living room. We laughed, we kissed, and for the first time in a long time, we felt like a real married couple.

Tonight, I thought, looking at his handsome face. I will make his favorite food tonight, and I will finally tell him about my pregnancy.

Eventually, we got out of bed, took a shower together, and dressed up, I wore a simple white sundress, and Zyran chose a casual grey sweater and jeans.

We walked downstairs hand-in-hand. The mansion smelled of peace, yes, peace that the b***h Is gone.

We were just sitting at the dining table when the doorbell rang.

Zyran frowned slightly, picking up his coffee cup. "I didn't invite anyone over."

The head butler walked quickly to the foyer and opened the doors.

I heard quiet shuffling, and then Beatrice and Clara slowly walked into the living room.

I instantly tensed, gripping the edge of the table. The last time they were in this room was hell.

But today, they looked different.

Beatrice wasn't holding her nose in the air. Her shoulders were slumped. She carried a large pink box from my favorite French bakery in the city. Clara stood right behind her, looking down at the floor and twisting her diamond rings.

Zyran’s face turned hard, he stood up from his chair, and walked to meet them.

"I told you both to never step foot in my house again," Zyran said. His voice was low and cold.

"Zyran, please," Beatrice said quickly, her voice shaking sounding ashamed. She took a hesitant step forward and gently placed the box on the edge of the table. "We didn't come to fight, we came to apologize."

I blinked in shock. Beatrice King never apologized.

"I heard the news this morning," Beatrice continued, her eyes filling with tears. She glanced past Zyran and met my eyes. "I heard about the video, they said Mina burned down the penthouse herself and she planted your earring to frame you."

Clara finally looked up, her face pale. "The doctors at the hospital confirmed it too, Zyran. They said the angle of the cut on her cheek was self-inflicted. She sliced her own face just to make us hate Roosevelt."

Beatrice took a shaky breath and pressed her hands together. She looked at me, and for the first time in four years, I saw real respect in her eyes.

"Roosevelt," Beatrice whispered, her voice breaking. "I was wrong. I let my yearning for the past blind me to the monster she became. I slapped you and insulted you and you were innocent the entire time. I am so sorry."

"We are sorry, Roosevelt," Clara added quickly, nodding her head. "We brought your favorite croissants. We just want to make things right. If you can ever forgive us."

I sat in my chair, completely stunned. The two women who had tormented me were standing in my dining room, practically begging for my forgiveness.

Zyran looked down at me, waiting for my reaction. He wasn't going to force me to accept it.

I took a deep breath, I didn't want to hold onto anger forever. I was going to have a baby soon, and I wanted my child to have a family.

"Thank you, Beatrice," I said softly, giving her a small nod. "I appreciate the apology. It will take time, but we can try to move forward."

Beatrice let out a sigh of relief, a small smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, my dear. Thank you so much."

The awkward tension in the room started to lift. Beatrice and Clara awkwardly took a seat at the far end of the table. The maid quickly brought them coffee. They began making polite small talk, complimenting my dress and praising the new curtains I picked for the hallway.

It felt strange, but peaceful. Zyran sat back down next to me, his hand resting on my thigh under the table, he looked proud of me.

Everything was finally falling into place.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sudden pounding on the door echoed through the house.

We all jumped. Beatrice spilled a drop of hot coffee on her saucer.

The person isn't even using the doorbell, they were practically hitting the doors with their fists, making the wood rattle.

Zyran’s jaw tightened. He stood up immediately, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Stay here," he ordered.

He walked out of the dining room and marched toward the living room. I couldn't stay seated. My heart started to race, so I stood up and followed him, standing at the archway of the dining room. Beatrice and Clara stood up behind me, looking nervous.

Zyran reached the doors and grabbed the handles and yanked it open, ready to confront whoever was disturbing our peace.

But the words died in his throat.

Zyran froze. His shoulders went rigid.

Standing on the porch was Mina.

She didn't look like a broken victim anymore. She wore a stunning red designer dress. Her hair was perfectly styled. The thick white bandage taped to her left cheek looked like a badge of honor.

Beside her high heels lay a big Louis Vuitton suitcase.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Zyran growled, his voice filled with disgust. "I gave you a ticket to London, you're supposed to be out of this country."

Mina didn't even flinch at his words, Instead, a wicked smirk spread across her lips.

She reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope.

She stepped forward, crossing the threshold into our home. She walked right up to Zyran and pressed the envelope against his chest.

"Plans change, darling," Mina said smoothly.

Zyran looked down at the envelope, snatched it from her hand, and ripped it open. He pulled out the paper inside.

I watched his face.

The moment Zyran read whatever that was on the paper, all the color drained from his face. He turned pale as a ghost, his hands began to shake violently, the paper crinkled in his grip.

He looked like a man handed a death sentence.

"No," Zyran whispered, his voice cracking. He stumbled back, staring at the paper. "No, this is a lie."

Mina laughed.

She looked past Zyran, her eyes locked onto mine, she stood tall, placing her hands proudly over her flat stomach.

"I am moving back in, Roosevelt," Mina announced majestically, her voice ringing loud and clear for everyone in the house to hear. "Because I am pregnant for Zyran."