The Billionaire’s Ex-wife

Chapter 16

The address glared at me from my phone screen.

Floor 27, Penthouse. 9PM

I woke up to that text at 6:12AM, a day before the three day ultimatum expired. He was so sure I’d come that he didn’t even bother with threats anymore. Just the address.

Bastard.

I dropped the phone on the bed and stared at the ceiling. My aunt’s voice from last came to me again, sad and shaking.

"Alessia, maybe I should just move in with you. It’s small, but we’ll manage. I don’t want to be a burden...."

"No ma,” I had cut her off, sharper than I meant to “Don’t pack anything. I’ll handle it"

Handle it.

As if I had a plan that didn’t involve walking into Dante's penthouse and selling pieces of myself I wasn’t sure I’d get back.

I got out of bed anyway. There was no tears today. Crying was a luxury I couldn’t afford now. Today was action, even if the action was just proving I could still choose something.

"This is for my family" I kept saying it as a mantra.

If I had to use my body as currency, I’d at least make it a weapon. I did a quick exercise for about twenty minutes while sweat dripped down my spine.

“This is not someone else but your ex-husband” i reminded myself.

The mirror didn’t care about my pep talks though, I stood there naked, skin flushed from the workout, and hated how my body looked like it was waiting for someone.

My hips were wider than four years ago, my stomach softer, and my breasts fuller and rounder. I turned and caught the curve of my waist, and for one disloyal second I wished he was here.

Not Dante the blackmailer but Dante the man I had agreed to marry, the who used to come up behind me at the bathroom sink, wrap his arms around me, and whisper ‘I love you Alessia’ against my neck everyday.

I remembered the first time we had met in college and I pressed my forehead to the mirror again before I finally jumped into shower with a deep sigh.

By 10AM,I had made a decision. I would be the one to pick my choices and not someone else. And I decided to pick the frenchman.

It was better to w***e myself to a stranger for a salary than to Dante for a leash. At least the Frenchman wouldn’t be able to control me and I wouldn’t have to put up with his family.

I put on a very sexy dress, black, conservative, knee-length and drove to the boutique with my jaw locked.

I was five minutes early. Devereaux’s Boutique was all glass and judgement. I was reaching for the door when I saw him.

Dante.

Walking out with Devereaux, clapping him on the back like they’d just closed a deal. Devereaux was laughing with his head thrown back. Dante wasn’t laughing though, he was looking at his phone with his thumb moving. Probably deleting me from his contacts now that he’d bought my other option.

My blood went cold, even before I could think of something.

I ran back into my car so fast my heels broke. I sat inside and peered through the glasses like a criminal. Dante slid into a black SUV. He didn't look up or sense me before the SUV pulled off.

Devereaux stayed on the curb. Looked around and when he saw me in the car, he recognized me, waved, smiled and said few things I couldn't hear. I rolled the window down an inch.

"You had a rethink already? Come, let’s talk inside”

Not a chance, I thought.

Dante had bought him too or warned him. It looked like the whole world now revolved around Dante.

I didn’t answer him, I rolled the window up, gripped the wheel and pulled into the streets.

I drove home with the AC on full blast and still felt like I was burning. The apartment was empty and quiet. I threw my bag on the couch, kicked off the broken heels and my dress felt like a costume now. Like I had played dress-up as a woman with choices.

I dropped to the floor, with my back against the door, and let the rage come. Not tears. I was f*****g angry. I really meant the words from the other day.

"He thought he had bought my surrender, He was about to learn a mother’s rage”

But your rage wouldn’t pay rent or foot bills, a small voice said.

By 6PM I was still on the floor, and awakened by my aunt’s call. I didn't pick it though, if she heard my voice she would get worried.

By 7PM I showered , unsure of what to do but by 8PM, I knew there was no choice. There never was. Not when he owned the street, and stolen my choices.

So if I was going to walk into hell, I’d do it in armor. I pulled out the dress he got me for our third year anniversary. I couldn't wear it at that time because I left.

It was a black, backless, slit to the thigh kind of gown. He said he liked it instantly when he saw it on the Fashion site before he ordered, he said it looked like it'd make him commit crimes.

I looked at myself naked one last time before I zipped the dress. Ran my hands down my sides and the dress fit perfectly. I looked even better in it. The hips, the breasts , four years had not made me less. It had made me more.

"This is for my aunt and for Leo, for our survival"

And for the first time, I let myself believe that thought. I left at 9:40PM. Drove myself. No Uber. No witnesses and in no time, I was at the address, at floor 27.

I ascended the elevator back to the man I left years ago once again. The doors opened. His penthouse smelled like him champagne and sin and the door was slightly open.

I stepped in and stopped. There was a footstep approaching and a woman walked out of his bedroom.

She had a blonde hair and very straight legs. She was fixing an earring, not even looking at me. She looked satisfied.

My rage went ice cold. So this was it. He didn’t even clear his schedule. He’d have one woman walk out while the next walked in. He thought I was that desperate. That broken.

I didn’t breathe or speak. I turned on my heel and marched back to the elevator and pressed on the button amidst tears.

I was going to drive home. Tell my aunt to pack and then tell Dante to f**k off and go to hell. The elevator dinged and his voice came from the doorway.

"Don’t tell me you’re leaving?"

I didn’t turn cause I couldn't. If I saw him, I’d either slap him again or do something funny.

"You have a guest” I said to the elevator, still not facing him, trying to swallow the jealousy.

"She’s my lawyer” he said.

That made me turn. He was leaning against the doorframe. No shirt. Just suit pants, low on his hips. He had something like scratches, down his ribs.

Lawyer?

"Your lawyer was in your bedroom?” I said.

"She was checking the bug we found in my lamp. Are we going to talk while I’m half naked?” He pushed off the frame and walked toward me

“I don’t bring women here, Alessia. This is my safe space. I only come here when I want to be myself. No security, no camera.. nothing"

Again, a convenient excuse.

“Why are you trying to make my life miserable?”

"That’s not what I’m doing" He was in front of me now but not touching .

"Then explain to me what this is? Why are you trying to force me to be with you?”

“Because I need you” I raised a brow. “You may not believe that but it’s the truth”

“You need me and the only way you could get me is to have me fired from my job and coax me to be your mistress?”

“That’s the only way I could get you to understand” I scoffed.

“Your excuses don’t even make sense”

He was close enough that I could see the pulse in his throat. His eyes dropped and he took in the black dress. Recognition flashed across his face.

“You were supposed to wear this on our third anniversary” I didn't reply him.

"You kept it"

He reached past me, but didn't touch me. He hit the elevator button and the doors slid shut.

"You look really beautiful" he said in a low voice.

The air between us had changed, it felt like could explode if he tried to touch me. He cleared his throat and finally touched me. He lifted my chin up with two fingers and titled my face upwards.

"You didn't change, your eyes, lips, ever…”

"Don't touch me" I cut him off and pushed his hands away. He smiled softly and rubbed his knuckles.

“I’m leaving now” the blonde woman said, not before giving me a cold look.

“I’ll see you Anita” she smiled at him and left. I scoffed.

“So she has a name” I murmured.

“Are you jealous?”

“Me? Why would I be jealous about who you sleep with”

“I didn’t sleep with her” he retorted.

“Let’s get to the reason I’m here. Should I remove my clothes and spread my legs for you?”

I watched his eyes rest on my breasts, down to my legs and lingered on the slit, before his eyes came back to my mouth. His tongue slid over his bottom lip hungrily and I hated the fact that I liked it so much that my thighs pressed together.

I hated that I remembered the taste of his mouth, hated that I could still find him really attractive even after everything. He didn't say anything yet and kept looking at me.

“Dante, let’s get to the reason I’m here” he looked at me now.

“I don’t want you to be my mistress. I said that before because I was angry”

“So what do you want me to be?”

“My wife”