Mafia Billionaire’s Forlorn Wife
Chapter 26

It is almost 3 a.m. when I finally make it out of Words and Whiskers. Eleanor left for her home a while ago after her night manager took over the duties.

And just as I leave the building with about six books craddled in the canvas tote bag on my shoulder, I find Jordan’s head snap towards me as he hurries to take the bag from my hands.

I give it to him without any hesitation before realising that there are two cars parked in front of the building, one of them is mine and the other belongs to Rhys.

“Is he still here?” I ask Jordan who nods his head and opens the car door for me.

The moment I slide in the back side, my breathing hitches in my throat when I find Rhys’ unmistakable frame dominating most of the space in the backseat as he lounges with his head against the window and his hand placed on his gun that is currently resting in the small space on the seat between out bodies.

His eyes jerk open the moment Jordan shuts the door and his grip tightens on his favourite gun and I immediately stutter out, “it’s just me.” My voice is low, as though even my words are afraid of falling too loud on this eerie night.

In the front seat, Jordan gets behind the wheel but I can’t see him since the partition is pulled up as usual.

“What time is it?” Rhys grumbles, looking around as he watches the car blur past the quiet streets of Seattle.

There is something about his sleep riddled voice that makes my heart flutter in my chest as I gulp, trying to gather my bearings as I whisper, “a little past 3 a.m.”

He nods his head in understanding, straightening up as his eyes fall on the gun and he mutters an apology under his breath before putting it back in the holster against his rib.

Staring at him right now, he looks mysterious and enigmatically handsome with the moon casting shadows on the sharp angles of his face, the sliver of skin visible through the top few buttons left open on his shirt while his sleeves are rolled up till his forearms. He is wearing his usual holster strapping two guns at each of his sides, leaving him looking enticing and inviting all the more.

He clears his throat and I blink, realising with utter embarrassment that he just saw how I was blatantly checking him out.

“You should take a picture. It’ll last longer.” He mutters in an aloof manner after I force myself to look away from my Greek god of a husband.

I roll my eyes, keeping my eyes trained on the empty streets blurring past us, “you’re way over in your head.”

He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head as I notice him from the corner of my eye. “And you’re too stubborn.” He makes an observation.

We sit in silence for a few moments before my thoughts start spiralling the way they have been since he left me inside Words and Whiskers about two hours ago.

His words echo in my head just before he left, about how he wanted to make sure that I was alright.

It’s 3 a.m. and the man probably has an early morning tomorrow and yet, he was sitting here, waiting for me to finish reading some stupid book just so I wouldn’t have to come back home alone.

Why would anyone do that for someone they claim to hate so much?

I turn my head towards him, finally preparing myself to ask the question that has been roaming through my head for the past one hour.

He lets out a g***n, throwing his head back against the seat, “just spit it out.” He grunts.

“Huh?”

He rolls his perfect midnight blue eyes, “just say whatever is on your mind, Arabella. I can practically feel your brain cells working an overtime and it’s giving me a headache.”

I scoff at his arrogance, “unbelievable.” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” He asks narrowing his eyes in my direction and I do the same thing.

“Why do you pretend that you hate me?” I ask him, point blank, knowing well enough that beating around the bush is not going to get me anywhere. I will have to ask him straight away what is stopping him from loving me.

He looks at me weirdly, “I don’t pretend that I hate you, Arabella.” He mutters. “I don’t hate you.”

My heart shudders in my chest for a moment, hope soars inside me but I just crush it down, knowing that this man holds the key to hurting me until it becomes impossible for me to breathe.

“Then why do you act like it?” I whisper, confusion and sadness clogs my voice as I try to make out his expressions in the darkness. The only light filtering through the windows is from the streetlights passing by and the moon and stars above.

A haunted look flashes across his features but he shakes his head, “I just want you to know that I can never love you. I married you but I have my reasons for doing that. And I know that to some level, you must think of me as some cruel and selfish bastard—” Yes I do, “—but really, in the long run, you’ll be happier for it.”

I gape at him openly, unable to believe that he actually said this, “why would I ever be happy about everything that you put me through? You took my investments, which by the way, I had collected with my own hard work and dedication. You’re a looming threat to my family. You’re always endangering my reputation for lunch with one of your floozies…why do you think I will ever be happy about all this?”

Rhys gives me an intent look, “your father would have married you off to the first man that offered him the golden bills and more business. And when I would have eventually come for him, with or without you, you would have faced the consequences too. At least right now, I can assure you that once I take your father down, I will let you walk away with enough money to last you for generations.”

That is when my b***d boils over, “is this what you think this is about?” I hiss at him, unknowingly leaning closer to him in my anger, “money? Do you think that is what I care about in the middle of all this?”

When genuine confusion flashes across Rhys’ face, a shaky breath leaves my lips as I realise just how lowly he thinks of me.

I shake my head scoffing, “I never thought I would have to explain myself this way in front of you, Mr. Mikhailov. I thought you knew me better than that.” I cannot help the hatred from appearing in my tone at the thought of how degraded he has just made me feel.

He really thinks that I am upset over some dollar bills?

“Is that not what you care about?” He asks, and once again, that genuine confusion makes its appearance.

I clench my fists as I meet his stormy eyes in the dark and something snaps inside me.

“Let’s just forget about what I care about for a second, Mr. Mikhailov.” I whisper, my voice dropping by a few octaves as I shift closer to him, waiting to see just how much longer it will take for me to break him.

He watches me like a predator watching his prey, observing, noting. But he doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s see what you give two f***s about.” I hush, deliberately turning my voice more sensuous as I scoot towards him until my hand is firmly placed against his thigh.

His eyes darken at my suggestion but his fingers come to wrap themselves around my wrist, stopping me from trailing my hand up to his crotch.

“Stop.” He hisses with barely restrained l**t.

I smirk at him, showing him that I have no intentions of doing that as I jerk my wrist out of his grip and my hands start working on the buttons of the satin mauve shirt that I am wearing, making Rhys’ eyes widen.

I unbutton one after the other until he can see the white lace bra that he loves so much on me, and just as I am about to take it off, Rhys is all over me, covering my body with his, pressing his lips against mine.

He g****s against my mouth, “f**k, you drive me insane.”

So do you, Mr. Mikhailov. But tonight I will show you exactly how much you care about me.

His lips devour mine with hunger and pure passion as I lose my fingers in his thick hair, clutching at his roots, pulling him as close to myself as possible.

It was about three days ago since we had last gotten physical with each other but despite all that, I am desperate for him. He is the only one who can satiate me and I hate the fact that even though I need to hate him, I still can’t.

His hand finds his home on my breasts which are now spilling out of my bra after he skilfully unhooks it from behind my back.

I m**n in his mouth, pushing my chest further in his grasp when he rubs at my n*****s, teasing me by pinching them and knowing exactly what it does to me and how insane it drives me.

“Why do you do this to me?” He grunts just before his lips latch onto my n*****s and his teeth begin their sweet torture which has me pressing my head against the window and scrunching my eyes shut as I hold him against my chest.

“Because you’re too stubborn to realise anything otherwise.” I pant, completely at his mercy but still more in control of the situation than ever before.

A growl ripples through his lips as he pulls me onto his lap, pushing my shirt down my shoulders as I realise that getting hot and heavy inside our cars is something that we happen to do quite so often.

“Agh, Rhys—” I mewl in both pain and pleasure when he bites down on my n****e and I have to refrain myself from pulling back in recoil. He knows exactly how to drive me insane.

Absolutely insane.

“You love teasing me, moya solnyshka. I am going to show you exactly what happens when you do that.” He says and with that, he lifts up the formal skirt that I am wearing until it is bunched around my torso before he pulls my panties to the side and hums in delight when he finds my heat waiting for him there.

“Always so eager for me, so wet…” he whispers, making me forcibly look into his eyes by clutching the roots of my hair until my head is slightly tilted back and my gaze is fully trapped on him.

I lick my lips as a shiver slithers down my spine, “you like seeing me like this? Is that why you trouble me so much?” I coo.

He lips don’t answer, but his fingers do when they plunge deep inside me and I try to scrunch my eyes in pure ecstasy but he tugs at my hair even more harshly, until I open my eyes once again because of the pain.

“Look at me when I am f*****g that sweet little p***y of yours, moya solnyshka. Look at me while I make you c*m all over my hand.” He tugs at my hair once again to strengthen his point and I feel my walls clenching around his digits in response.

He grins devilishly, showing me a promise of pure danger and pleasure in his midnight blue eyes as his fingers start pumping in and out of me at a deliciously sensuous pace.

“You really like to play with fire, my poison Ivy.” He whispers, his thumb joining the mix as it starts to rub my clit in figure eights, making me pant more and more as I try to keep my voice down.

“Maybe I just like getting burned by you.” I whisper shakily, unable to look away from him for even a moment.

His face darkens with desire and pure l**t, the beard that I love so much is giving him a sinister and dangerous look which was what drew me towards him in the first place.

“Careful, Ivy. You won’t like the outcome. Stay away from me as much as possible. It’ll be over soon.” He says but his fingers still don’t stop pumping inside me until I am inching closer and closer to the edge, ready to fall off into the sweet abyss of pleasure at any moment.

I rock my h**s in his lap, knowing well enough that he is hard inside his pants too, “why can’t you just let it go? Why can’t we live like this forever?”

I lift myself off of his hand before plunging myself down once again, as if to make my point. His eyes seize the way my breasts jiggle in front of him at the action.

“Because you don’t deserve that.” And saying that, he brings me to his chest and starts to pump his fingers in and out of me at a faster pace, pressing his thumb into my clit as my cheek presses flat against his hard and muscular chest and I scrunch my eyes shut, finally letting myself go in the pure ecstasy that he brings me.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts pressing his lips against the side of my neck but his fingers don’t let up, “c*m for me.” He drawls in my ears.

He pinches my clit once and that is all it takes for my walls to clench harder around his fingers as I finally let go of my inhibitions and allow my o****m to ripple through my body at full force.

Rhys holds me tight, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of me, riding my o****m with me until I am a limp mess sitting straddling his lap while he uses his free hand to caress my hair.

This was one of the best o*****s this man has ever given me and he didn’t even need to take his clothes off for this.

Suddenly feeling too conscious about myself, I start to pull back but he wraps his arms around me for a moment, breathing me in as my eyes widen but I allow the comfort of his arms to seep under my skin.

He is hugging me after such a long time.

My body just fits inside his arms and he just k****s my forehead a few times before pulling my shirt back up my shoulders.

When I finally do pull back, Rhys doesn’t meet my eyes and starts to button my shirt slowly, furrowing his brows in concentration at the task.

“Rhys, I—”

My words are cut shot when a loud bang disrupts our moment and one moment the car was driving through the quiet streets of Seattle and in the next moment there are bullets firing at us.

f**k.