The Billionaire’s Pawn

LONDON

We finally arrived at the European-style cottage. It was prestigious. It reminded me of a countryside farmhouse. The entry began with a beautiful fountain made of bricks. The entire home was thoughtfully designed with large stained glass windows, limestone walls, beamed ceilings, and wood doors.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Behind it were brick pathways, a fire pit, and a pool. The lush landscape and trees enhanced more privacy.

In a few hours, the sun would rise, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t napped since our wedding, and I would grow horns if I couldn’t get enough sleep.

As soon as the caretaker left, I went to the room. The bedroom was all white, except for the curtains and rug, and it looked cozy and exquisite.

I went to my luggage so that I could change. I noticed Striker enter the room.

“So we’ll just pretend that we’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” I replied shortly. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too. I feel like I could sleep the entire day.” He came from behind, wrapping his around me. He still smelled good and could wrap me in his arms until I fell asleep. Considering how tired I was, it would be comforting if he could give me a back rub. But it was not going to happen.

“I’m tired, Cade.” I held his hand so that I could get away. I went quickly to the room from the right, the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I sat there for a while and tried to relax my mind.

This was my doing, too. I shouldn’t blame Striker for hiding something from me. He was also a victim of this sham arrangement. And I did this to myself. I didn’t fight enough. Dad took advantage of my vulnerability. Now, I was starting to pay for it.

It just hurt so much that Striker never trusted me. He was my husband, and I thought we were partners, but I was wrong to assume. He chose to keep whatever they talked about with Tate all to himself, and I knew it was something important.

So his vows meant nothing to him. It was just a scheme because everyone was listening. He was just like my father. And what was worse, I couldn’t believe I had fallen for the ruse.

After a quick shower, I wore something comfy and dried my hair. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I wanted to cry, shave my head bald, or maybe get a tattoo.

So this was a disaster then, not a honeymoon.

When I got out of the bathroom, Striker was still in his clothes, but he was already in bed, asleep, slightly snoring. Great. Just great.

I tiptoed to the other side of the bed and lay on my side. I was so damn worn out. Exhaustion took over me quickly.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a full bladder. I was tucked nicely with the duvet in Striker’s arms. He must have woken up and changed. He was already wearing his pajama bottom but shirtless.

I got up slowly and emptied my bladder. I felt like I refueled even though I only got four hours of sleep. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and went out of the room. I checked my miscalls and messages. I had from my father and Neke.

I replied to Neke and returned a call to my father because I knew what he wanted to talk about.

“London, I’m glad you call me back.”

“Just say it, Dad.”

“Yes, I am upset.” It was pretty obvious. His voice was harsh. “So, did you fulfill something of getting married without me? Is this rebellion will go on?”

“I’m still getting married again, ain’t I? Isn’t that what you wished for?”

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out?”

“It wasn’t a secret. And if you care, you could have attended if you wished to be there. And I knew you would find out because you seem to have eyes everywhere.”

“You insulted me, my daughter. Don’t come running back to me if you’re in trouble. No doubt your husband will help you with that.”

“You did this to me, Dad. You used me and played with our lives. What exactly do you want to accomplish here?”

“That is none of your business.”

“So, are we really going to do this? You’re going to hate me after what you’ve done to me when I should be the one resenting you.”

“You shouldn’t have disrespected me. I will still get what I want with or without you. Don’t worry. You can keep your business for now, but I’m no longer spending a penny for you.”

“Do what makes you happy. Maybe you should find your own happiness, get married, and have a family. By that time, you don’t need a brat like me anymore. I wish you all the best, Dad. Despite how we parted the last time, I still care for you. I still love you and will forever be grateful for taking care of me alone. Bye, Dad.”

After I hung up, I let out the pain inside my chest. It had been there for a long time. I sobbed to cry alone on the couch, somewhere so far from my friends. And I couldn’t do anything. I felt helpless.

This marriage had caused me so many things-my life, my life’s work, and my relationship. When I thought I could have vengeance for what he did to me, I gained nothing but heartaches and unbearable pain.

I was wrong when I thought I would finally find happiness with Striker. I just lost the love of my father because I met him that night. I had no doubt Dad loved me, but that was not the case anymore. He wanted something in return.

I had a good life. I was happy with my job, with my best friend, with my clothing line. I even had a boyfriend. I had guidance from my father. I was contented with my life when it was just the two of us. Why did I just throw it all away? Now I had nothing-only a husband who never trusted me.

I went outside when the sun rose. It was beautiful and peaceful, indicating a new day ahead. I would have enjoyed cuddling with my husband this new day, but we didn’t even get married for twenty-four hours-everything soured and went from hot to freezing cold between us.

I just didn’t like secrets. I’d been in hell and back, and he should understand that trust meant so much to me.

I went back to the room. Striker was still sleeping. He must be so exhausted from the wedding preparation that he slept this long. I grabbed my crossbody bag and shut the door behind me. I found a bicycle parked outside, and it looked in good condition. I pedaled out, hoping to find some shops or cafes nearby to focus my time on.