MY BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND’S LIE

Amelia’s POV “I love you, Amelia. Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.” He said it so simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The kind of words you don’t need to think about — you just feel them. The city lights flashed against Liam’s face as we drove through the streets. His hand rested on the steering wheel, the other loosely wrapped around mine, thumb brushing my skin in slow, absent circles. I smiled, my heart swelling with that familiar ache that only came when I looked at him too long. “You’ve been saying that for three years straight,” I teased softly. “Because it’s still true,” he murmured, eyes flicking to me before turning back to the road. “And it’ll be true for the next fifty, or even hundred," I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, though the corners of my lips betrayed me. “Fifty, huh? That’s a lot of patience, Mr. Sinclair.” “For you?” His mouth curved. “It’s not nearly enough.” I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt, but I didn’t care. It was our anniversary, our third year of marriage — and despite everything Eleanor, his step mother had thrown at us, despite the constant whispers that I wasn’t good enough for him, we were happy. For once, it felt like life had finally stopped fighting us, after he got his first major contract. I turned in my seat, watching him as the lights from passing cars painted his profile in gold and. He looked tired, a bit of stubble on his jaw, his sleeves rolled up, the veins in his hands standing out on the steering wheel. God, he was beautiful — in that quiet, rugged way that made you forget how to breathe for a second. “I love you too, Liam,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Today and the rest of my—” The sound cut through the night before I could finish. A blinding flash, a horn, screeching tires, then impact. It was instant — brutal — like the universe had ripped open and swallowed us whole. The car spun once, twice — metal twisting, glass exploding around us like shards of ice. My scream caught somewhere between my chest and throat. The world became noise — crushing, roaring, endless. “Liam!” I screamed, reaching out blindly. My seatbelt cut into my shoulder as the car slammed sideways into the divider. My head snapped forward. The windshield cracked. Something hot trickled down my temple. And then — silence. All I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Smoke filled the car. My lungs burned. The faint smell of gasoline stung my nose. “L-Liam…” I choked out, my voice trembling. He was there — half slumped over the wheel, blood dripping down his forehead, eyes fluttering. “Hey,” I whispered, touching his arm. My fingers came away wet and red. Panic clawed at my throat. “Liam, look at me—” He stirred, groaning faintly, and then — before I could blink — his arm shot out, pulling me into him just as the car jolted again. The sound of metal crunching filled the air as something hit us from behind. His body pressed against mine, his hand gripping the back of my head, shielding me completely. “Don’t move,” he rasped, his voice broken but fierce. “I’ve got you, Amelia. I’ll always protect you.” The car was tilting now, one side lifted slightly, the world spinning around us. The headlights of another car cut through the smoke, blinding. I could barely breathe. My chest felt crushed. His blood soaked through my dress, warm and slick. “Liam— please—” “Amelia,” he whispered, his voice faint but steady. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” I wasn’t, he wasn’t, none of this was. I tried to reach for his face, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, and the distant wail of sirens began to break through the ringing in my ears. “Stay with me,” I begged, my tears falling fast. “Please— stay with me, Liam—” His eyes fluttered open just once. Just long enough to meet mine. “I love you,” he breathed, his words barely audible. “Always.” "I love you too, Liam, please..." And then everything went dark. The last thing I remembered was the sound of his heartbeat fading against my chest, and the cold stillness that followed.