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WHATEVER SHE WANTS

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billionaire
love-triangle
arranged marriage
arrogant
confident
billionairess
heir/heiress
drama
tragedy
bxg
city
highschool
civilian
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Blurb

A billionaire trophy wife is insulted at a public function because her husband placed her in that position. She resolves to kill him and end her misery as she exits the party but misfortune knocks on her door as she runs down a college student. Discovering how handsome her casualty is, and realizing her need for a real masculine presence, her resolve to eliminate her husband is solidified and she carries through with her plans. A new door to enjoying her love life is opened, and her affair with this college boy blooms but the ecstasy is cut short when a mystery character appears and is hired as the new butler. Erryn's new lover dupes her and elopes, and now she is left to look right in front of her to find love. A new love story starts out between her and her butler, but is this the ending we expected?

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The Trophy Wife
Erryn's POV As the car pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, I wound down the back window and gazed out over the whole premises. Eight years of marriage did really pay off after all; only that I don't have children to show for it. Jessica thinks I'm being rather obtuse. I like it that Pattie and Erica are on my side. They understand why I've come to accept this status of mine; and I don't want it to change. “Ma'am, the groceries and other items?" I paused in my thoughts and raised my eyes to the rearview mirror. “Take them in. I might be in the car a little while longer." “Yes, ma'am." I resumed looking at the lawn. Obviously, I didn't have a reason to be mad at the gardener now. Just then, my phone rang. “Erryn Stoner?" “Yes, please." “This is Moines Jewellers. There's an order for a 24 carat diamond necklace in your name. We want make sure this is the right contact." I huffed away from the phone. Yet another white elephant. This gift seemed very useless to me at the moment. It is quite expensive, but it only symbolizes a different type of pain. The one where you have to make objects fill in the place of someone you love. “This is Erryn Stoner." “Right. Thank you." “Uhh…excuse me, if I may ask, who placed the order?” "I'm afraid we can't divulge that, ma'am.” "Thank you.” I ended the call. There was no use asking anyway. My husband did it. The James McCartney. It's a good thing I decided to bear my maiden name even after marriage. At least, I'm still my own person. It was simply something my parents didn't understand when they consented to the marriage by falling into debt. But I saw his desperation. He was ready to agree to anything, as long as I agreed to marry him. According to him, he needed company; not someone to bear his name. I'm still entitled to alimony, should the marriage be annulled. My driver was returning to the car already. I've never seen someone so zealous over so little a job. Good thing is he's working for the right people. He can boast of a reasonable annual income; unlike some Trustfund personnel. “What is it, El?" “Everything is set, ma'am. The boss just informed me that he won't be joining you for lunch as earlier planned. He said you can carry on without him." My whole being already knew the drill. A hurried breakfast, lunch alone, and a late reheated dinner after I must have had a two-hour nap. “It's alright." I put on my dark spectacles as I stepped out of the car. The sun rays felt brilliantly warm against my skin, reminding me of the many times I've had to sleep alone in a king-sized bed. I held the last shopping bag, which contained the new skincare products Erica had convinced me to try out. I walked into the beautiful lonely mansion full of domestic staff, and empty of my husband. Things they don't tell you about being a trophy wife. “Welcome back, ma'am." “Good afternoon, ma'am." “Your lunch is ready, ma'am. Will you be served at table, or in bed?" I took off my mink fur coat and handed it over to the steward, who seemed to be waiting a bit too eagerly for it. I turned to my cook. “I'll have it here at table. You'll bring me some dessert when I send for it. What's it for lunch?" "Caesar salad and tomato soup.” "Well…that's hot. I'll still have the dessert after. Thank you.” "Yes ma'am.” I sat at the rich mahogany table. It was beautiful, but all the same, lacking life. I can count the number of times I've had to sit through a complete meal with my husband. Jessica said I need to learn to settle into my feminine element, and be content with the luxury I didn't have before. Pattie said I'd get used to it. Erica said I could use that to my advantage, eating as much as I wanted. She didn't look the size of one who ate that much; for a glutton. But I think among us all, she was the one living the life: vacations, ostentation, and still the benefit of getting herself a younger lover. Jessica hates her in a way I consider rather hypocritical. I remember our first ladies’ hangout where I was welcomed to the ‘club’. All four of our husbands were connected by business in diverse ways, so we had to link up; acknowledging the fact that the social arena wasn't quite open to us. So, no matter how large our differences, we had to always have each other's backs. I was silent throughout my lunch, taking my time to savor the meal while I scrolled on sss. I was checking out another lipstick line Erica recommended to me. Sometimes, I honestly wish that I had more than this for a life. If I had gone to college, I'd have had hopes of chasing a sustainable career, but due to my status, I'm super comfortable. I really don't need anything because all my needs and wants are being met, even to a fault. I left sss to my gallery. Photos from our little beach party were the most. I smiled as I remembered how a drunken Erica had made passes at the hot lifeguard. Personally, even I wondered why they'd hired him if he was that hot. He didn't deserve the job. I soon lost my appetite and went up to the master bedroom to shower and change into lighter clothes. Frank will come for the laundry later on. I can wait patiently for my dessert. “Amelia?" “Ma'am?" “Make it chocolate-dipped strawberries for dessert, please." “Right, ma'am. I'll notify Gilles." “Thank you." I almost skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Chocolate had long since become my coping mechanism because I couldn't reconcile the idea of getting an adult toy for pleasure. I needed a masculine presence; something about strong arms grabbing my hair, and bending my body at will. Not this stale s*x life of mine. I got into the jacuzzi and soaked in the hot water, reveling in the burning sensation that shrouded me.

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