My Billionaire, My Toy Boy

“Kiss me!” The man said, his voice low and husky. As he spoke, his strong hands wrapped around Mia’s waist, pulling her closer. The air grew hotter, thick with tension, making it hard to breathe. “So passionate?” Mia teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She leaned in, brushing her lips against the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple. She had to admit it—the man in front of her was simply irresistible. From his Adam’s apple to his abs, to those perfectly sculpted lips—every part of him made her linger just a little longer. “Only for you,” he murmured. With a swift movement, he reversed their positions, pressing her beneath him and taking control. Mia laughed softly, hooking her arms around his neck. She looked at him with wide, glistening eyes, like a helpless rabbit inviting the wolf to come closer. There was a mischievous allure in her gaze, as if daring him to bully her. “You’re such a good boy. Too bad you won’t be mine anymore,” Mia said lightly, as though she were just commenting on the weather. The man froze. His hands stopped, and his dark eyes turned cold as he stared at her. “Make it clear.” The sudden shift in his tone killed the mood. Mia sighed, brushing him off as she buttoned up her shirt. “What’s so surprising? Isn’t it normal for a sponsor to end a deal?” Her annoyance was clear. She had paid for this arrangement; why was she the one being glared at? Reaching into her Chanel bag, she pulled out a sleek card and tossed it to him. “Here. Sweetheart, there’s 300,000 on this card, plus the sports car downstairs. They’re all yours.” The man didn’t move, his expression darkening further. His black eyes glimmered with a quiet storm. “Mia, are you saying you want to end this?” His voice was cold, each word clipped and precise. “End what?” Mia blinked, feigning confusion, before patting his cheek. “Darling, remember your professionalism.” Her tone was sweet, but there was an underlying sharpness to her words. “My husband’s back. Things are going to get inconvenient. But since you’ve been so good, I can introduce you to some other wealthy ladies.” She smiled, her voice light and breezy. “Move on, alright? Bye-bye.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room, her high heels clicking against the floor. Behind her, the man’s face turned stormy. With a loud crash, he swept the wine glass off the bedside table, sending it shattering onto the floor. ****** Mia had just left the hotel when her phone rang. It was Ryan, her husband. “Mia, Dad and Mom are waiting for you. Why are you late again?” His irritated tone made Mia roll her eyes. “Are you crazy, Ryan?” “What?” he asked, sounding confused. “If you’re not sick, why are you calling me? Your precious family dinner—what’s it got to do with me? Oh, I get it. Lila’s too pregnant to move, so now you’re dragging me in?” Her sharp words hit the mark. On the other end, Ryan’s tone turned tense. “Mia, how do you know Lila’s pregnant? I’m warning you—don’t you dare—” Before he could finish, Mia hung up, her frustration boiling over. Ryan Lucian. Her husband. Married for a year. And yet, he had spent the entire time wrapped around another woman’s finger. A whole year. Not once had he returned home after their wedding night—all because Mia lived there. Before their marriage, Ryan had been painfully clear. “Mia, I’m only marrying you because of Grandpa. My heart belongs to Lila. If the Lucian family hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have agreed to this. We can get married, but I’ll always stay by Lila’s side. You’re free to live however you want.” He couldn’t have made it clearer: Mia had no place in his life. But fate worked differently. Mia’s father, Charles Sylvan, had once saved Ryan’s grandfather’s life. Out of gratitude, Grandpa Lucian adored Mia and took her into the family after her father’s death. When he found out Mia had feelings for Ryan, he arranged the marriage without hesitation. Ryan, however, hated it. He retaliated by abandoning her and refusing to come home. Until last week, when Grandpa laid down the law: “If you still want your inheritance, you’ll return home.” And so, after a year of absence, Ryan finally came back. Mia shook her head, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. None of that mattered now. She’d finally seen things clearly. She was done with him. Love, men—none of it mattered anymore. Her car pulled up to the grand Lucian family estate. Ryan was standing at the entrance, a cigarette between his fingers. His white shirt and black slacks complemented his naturally refined aura, a far cry from the typical rich playboy image. Looking at him, Mia couldn’t help but acknowledge why she had once fallen for him. She paused for a moment, lost in thought, before noticing the shift in Ryan’s expression. His face darkened the moment he spotted her. But Mia didn’t care. She smirked, walking toward him with confident strides. Ryan frowned, instinctively stepping back as she approached. But Mia was quicker. She leaned in close and whispered, her voice low and firm. “Grandpa’s watching from upstairs. Be kind.” Her tone was calm, but the meaning was sharp. Mia had no intention of engaging with Ryan, but her respect for Grandpa Lucian outweighed her personal feelings. If nothing else, they should part on good terms—for the old man’s sake. Ryan gritted his teeth. “You really think you’re part of this family?” Mia ignored him, looping her arms around him in a picture-perfect display of affection. Ryan hated how easily she played the role of a dutiful wife. Still, he plastered on a polite smile, even going so far as to rest a hand lightly on her waist. “Mia, we…” Ryan started, but she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. Her breath was warm, and she stayed close, her head nestled against his shoulder. Ryan raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden change in behavior. Was she finally giving in? That stubborn, headstrong woman… was she actually admitting defeat? Then she spoke. “Let’s get divorced.”