Mafia Billionaire’s Forlorn Wife
Chapter 24

Arabella

The moment I enter my car, I break down crying as soon as the partition between Jordan and I is pulled up.

“Where to, Mrs. Mikhailov?” Jordan asks from the driver’s seat, his voice reaching me through a speaker installed in one of the panels of the otherwise sound proof partition.

“Words and whiskers, please.” I mumble, trying to make myself sound as normal as possible, even though I have a feeling that my chauffeur s***h bodyguard pretty much knows what state of mind I am currently in.

“Alright.” He replies and then, the car starts moving in the direction of my favourite place in this entire city.

I try not to think what Rhys must be doing with Amelia right now. God, I never thought I would be one of those jealous wives…I never thought I would need to be.

I bury my head in my hands, clutching at the roots of my hair as I try to think about where everything went wrong, why my marriage became this sham of an arrangement with no love, kindness or affection of any sort whatsoever.

Rhys says that he never did anything with those models, he says that he has never cheated on me, but I don’t believe him.

I don’t believe him because he clearly doesn’t love me…in fact, he hates me so much that he has gone out of his way to prove that.

From taking my assets, to betraying me by marrying me for revenge, to forcing me to stay in the guest bedroom of his house when I have every right to stay in his room, as his wife…Rhys Mikhailov has shown me exactly how much he hates me.

And Amelia…

My heart clenches in my chest with pain as I think about the stories I’ve read about his relationship with Amelia.

The media used to describe them as the most lovesick couple that the country has ever seen. They had fan pages shipping them together and making posters and shrines of their love long after the two of them broke up.

Rhys has never told me exactly why they broke up, and every time I would ask anything related to her, he would just say that he would rather talk about his relationship with me than his relationship with anyone else.

Which, now I realise, was only a trick to get me to stop prying into his life.

More tears escape me as I realise just how big of a fool I was. I can’t believe I actually thought that I could compete with someone like Amelia.

She comes from a well established oil empire that she is going to inherit all to herself in a few years. Aside from that, she herself is a world renowned biotechnologist with more than four hundred patents under her name and multiple awards in the STEM fields.

She is gorgeous and she’s a genius. Just like Rhys is. Irrespective of his ties in the mafia, that man is practically a walking internet explorer. There is hardly anything in this world that he does not know about and it was his knowledge and wit that drew me towards him in the first place.

The car comes to a halt as Jordan’s voice follows, “we’re here, ma’am.”

I take in a shuddering breath, looking out at the familiar building to my side as I take out a few tissues from the dispenser before fixing my face and then touching up my make up to make myself look as presentable as possible.

I run my fingers through my hair, combing back the slightly unruly golden waves before checking my face once in my pocket mirror, I finally step out of the car.

“I’ll be here for a while.” I tell Jordan, adjusting my sunglasses on my nose, “please don’t tell your boss about my whereabouts.”

The man purses his lips together and nods tightly which is more than enough for me to know that he will tell Rhys about my whereabouts if and when asked. Shaking my head, I walk into the two floor building that I know holds the two things that can calm me down right now.

“Bella!”

I hear a loud voice exclaim, filled with pure joy and glee as I enter the modern interior of the building. I grin when I find a girl my age rushing towards me from behind the call desk with her arms spread wide, ready to take me in for a hug.

“Ellie!” I gush, wrapping the sweet redhead in my arms, squeezing her in a tight hug while her head reaches my chin.

Ellie— or Eleanor— is a dear friend of mine from my college days and even though we weren’t that close back then but we have certainly grown attached in the last few years that she started this establishment that I am currently standing in.

She is a true American through and through— having been born and brought up in New York City— but now, she chose to settle in here, in the far western corner of the country, owning the best place in the entirety of Seattle.

“I was hoping to see you! It had been way too long since you last came here for my taste.” She says with a pout, her blue eyes filled with nothing but genuine affection.

I giggle, already feeling a lot better than earlier in her company, “I agree! I was missing you and of course, everyone else here.”

She smiles, “just wait here for a few moments while I get everything set up for you, yes?”

I nod eagerly as she gives my hand a light squeeze before disappearing through a set of glass doors to my right.

I look around at the eclectic styled reception area, bursting with hand painted portraits of pretty dogs and cats and rows upon rows of books lining the bright walls. The furniture too was an array of plush and colourful designs with velvets and glass and gold making accents.

Aside from me, there are a few more people hanging around here, waiting for their turns I’m certain, and before it is too long, Eleanor appears behind the glass doors, motioning for me to come in.

And so, I lose myself in the world of exquisite books and pets that is Words and Whiskers.

⚜️⚜️⚜️

Rhys

The man that I have tied up in the chair in front of me takes his last breath as I stare at him in disdain.

“I hate killing people on Mondays, you know?” I mutter more so to myself, shaking my head at the reporter that wrote the shitty article on Arabella.

I don’t know why but I enjoyed killing him. Just the thought of anyone troubling Arabella or making her feel insulted and humiliated in any manner is enough for my stupid heart to drive me insane.

I shake my head as I notice the small b***d stain on the cuffs of the white shirt that I am currently wearing. I fold up the sleeves, loosening my tie as I open the first two buttons of the shirt before reaching over to the liquor cabinet and pouring myself a glass of whiskey.

“Quite the mess, isn’t he?” I hear Vernon’s voice speaking up from behind me as I turn back around and find him standing near the lift, staring at the dead body with a look of disgust.

I shrug, “he deserved it.”

Vernon smirks, “oh, I’m sure he did.” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice before he looks at me quizzically, “you’re doing an awful lot for the woman you claim not to care about.”

I roll my eyes, gulping my drink in one go before I change the subject, “did you find out about Ace’s latest investments?” I question.

He purses his lips together, his eyes already shining with disappointment and judgement as he says, “I did. You will be thrilled to know that your team of very efficient and unethical lawyers will be able to get their hands on his investments before the end of this week.”

I give him a curt nod, beginning to walk towards the lift, in full mood to just sleep away for the rest of the night, “discreetly.” I remind him, “and get this mess cleaned up.” I say waving my hand towards the bloodied mess of a reporter in the chair.

I press the button for the lift, and at the exact time, Vernon states, “I will. And I think you would be interested to know that your wife still isn’t back home.”

I don’t respond to him, but I falter in my steps for a few seconds, and then without a word, I enter the elevator and push the button for the main floor of my mansion.

Where could she have gone?

This woman will drive me insane one day by just continuing to run off and having me chase after her.

I dial Jordan’s number, “where is she?” I bark into the device the moment the call connects.

“At Words and Whiskers, sir.” He tells me curtly and I furrow my brows.

“What the f**k is that?”

“I don’t know either sir, but I was briefed that she has been coming here since before the wedding so I know where it is. It’s supposed to either be a bookshop or a pet shop…I really don’t know.” He says sheepishly.

I roll my eyes at that. “Send me the location.”

Ending the call, I am making my way to my car by the time the location pings on my phone and the moment I get behind the wheel, I start driving in the direction according to GPS.

Lord knows how many times I will have to hunt this woman down from places unheard of. I don’t know what the f**k she wants from me.

She is so damn infuriating that at one point I do wish to rip her head off but on the other hand every time she does something like that, I cannot stop myself from going after her.

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

By the time I reach the place, it is almost eight p.m. at night and I find Jordan standing beside Arabella’s car in the parking spot in front of the building.

“She’s inside.” He tells me the moment I step out.

Nodding my head, I saunter inside the building and the moment I enter the reception area, I feel like I have stepped inside an artist’s den.

I furrow my brows at the surroundings, what the hell is this place?

“Hi, can I help you?” I hear a soft, chirpy voice call out from somewhere in the space as I look in the direction and find a redheaded girl with a pixie cut staring at me with a warm smile.

I am so confused that I almost walk towards the reception in a daze, “I was told that my wife is here? Arabella Mikhailov?”

The girl’s eyes widen in recognition right before she narrows her gaze at me, “so you’re the husband…” she mutters in distaste and I clench my jaw in response.

I don’t even bother asking her about what Arabella has told about me, “where is she?” I press, already irritated by the entire situation.

“I’ll have to ask her if she wants to see you before I tell you where she is.” And saying that, she starts dialling a number on the intercom, placing it against her ear. “Bella, your husband is here. He wants to see you.” She says into the device. I don’t hear what Arabella says but the redhead’s face turns sour as she huffs, “alright.” She mutters before ending the call and then when I look at her expectantly, she says, “go through those doors, last room to the right.”

I give her a curt nod before striding towards the glass doors as I walk through the fluorescent coloured hallways until I am standing in front of a door with a portrait of a large golden retriever hanging over it.

Sighing, I raise my hand and knock at the door, not knowing what I am going to find here.

But at this point, I doubt there is anything aside from finding Arabella that I really care about.

The door finally clicks open and when I push it in, my eyes widen when they clash with her ivy green orbs.

And the moment I take in her surroundings, I am more surprised than anything in my life.

Running throughout the room, are about half a dozen golden retriever puppies, all playing and teasing each other as Arabella sits curled up on a low height sofa, surrounded by snacks, books, as another larger golden retriever — perhaps the mother of the puppers— is curled up beside Arabella with her head in my wife’s lap.

Arabella is currently holding a book in her hands, her adorable reading glasses sitting on her nose as she sits here in this room filled with puppies with walls lined with more books than anyone can count in a night and with enough food to last anyone a week.

“You’ve made yourself home.” I say with a teasing smirk, looking around as I realise just how out of place I feel here.

“Close the door or they will run out.” She snaps.

And when she rolls her eyes and just goes back to reading her book and petting the mutt in her lap, I take in a deep breath and closing the door, I prepare myself for a long night ahead.

The lord knows what else this woman will make me do.