Miljardärens andra chans: Vinna henne tillbaka

Miljardärens andra chans: Vinna henne tillbaka

Sarah

743.2k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

Jag trodde en gång att jag var den lyckligaste kvinnan i världen. Min man var inte bara otroligt stilig och rik, utan också mild och omtänksam. I tre år efter vårt bröllop behandlade han mig som en prinsessa.
Men allt förändrades den dag jag såg min vanligtvis samlade och reserverade man pressa sin så kallade "syster" mot väggen och rasande kräva, "Du valde att gifta dig med en annan man då. Vilken rätt har du att begära något av mig?!"
Det var då jag insåg hur passionerat han kunde älska någon—tillräckligt för att driva honom till vansinne.
Förståendes min plats, skilde jag mig tyst från honom och försvann ur hans liv.
Alla sa att Christopher Valence hade förlorat förståndet, desperat att hitta sin till synes obetydliga ex-fru. Ingen visste att när han såg Hope Royston på en annan mans arm, kändes det som om ett hål hade rivits genom hans hjärta, vilket fick honom att önska att han kunde döda sitt förflutna jag.
"Hope, snälla kom tillbaka till mig."
Med blodsprängda ögon knäböjde Christopher på marken och bad ödmjukt. Hope insåg slutligen att alla rykten var sanna.
Han hade verkligen blivit galen.
(Jag rekommenderar starkt en fängslande bok som jag inte kunde lägga ifrån mig på tre dagar och nätter. Den är otroligt engagerande och ett måste att läsa. Bokens titel är "Lätt skilsmässa, svår omgifte". Du kan hitta den genom att söka efter den i sökfältet.)
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Sarah

Chapter 1

"Ah, Christopher, ta det lugnt."

I videon är en man och en kvinna över varandra. Mannen har ryggen mot kameran och sliter frenetiskt av sig kostymen och skjortan, lyfter kvinnan och trycker henne mot väggen. Kvinnan, med långt hår, visar halva sitt ansikte, hennes ögon är glansiga och tårfyllda, hennes röda naglar drar nerför mannens bara rygg.

Jag stirrar på den anonyma videon och fokuserar på kavajen som mannen kastat av sig.

Det var samma kavaj som jag hade hjälpt Christopher Valence att ta på sig den morgonen, slipsen jag hade knutit åt honom.

Nyhetsrubriken, "Christopher spenderar en förmögenhet för att göra sin fru lycklig," toppar listorna, med alla som hyllar Christopher för hans hängivenhet till sin fru.

På vår tredje bröllopsdag köpte Christopher mig ett diamanthalsband som jag hade suktat efter länge och lovade mig en stor överraskning.

Vilken present skulle han ta med sig hem ikväll?

Jag satt vid matbordet hela natten, mina ben blev domnade, kände mig som en död fisk fastspikad på stolen. Men Christopher kom aldrig hem.

Nästa morgon rullade en svart Bugatti in på uppfarten.

Donna Blake, vår hushållerska, tittade ut genom fönstret och sa, "Det är Mr. Valences bil."

Jag höll mitt ansikte uttryckslöst. "Servera frukost."

Men det var inte Christopher som kom in. Det var en kvinna jag knappt kände.

Evelyn Valence, Christophers så kallade syster och kvinnan från videon.

"Förlåt, Hope. Christopher var med mig igår kväll. Jag sa åt honom att gå hem till dig, men han insisterade på att stanna hos mig."

Evelyn lekte med sitt hår, visade upp diamanthalsbandet som satt på hennes bröst, och tittade sedan på mig med falsk oskuld. "Hope, du vet hur nära vi är. Du har väl inget emot det, eller hur?"

Jag kände mig illamående. Hon ligger med min man, skryter om det, och har mage att fråga om jag bryr mig?

"Naturligtvis inte, du är ju hans syster trots allt." Jag tog fram min telefon och spelade upp videon. "På tal om det, jag såg en porrfilm igår kväll. Skådespelerskan såg väldigt mycket ut som du!"

Evelyns ansikte mörknade, och jag kunde inte låta bli att skratta. "Evelyn, när började du med porr? Du borde ha berättat för oss; jag skulle ha spridit ordet för dig."

"Håll käften, Hope Royston!" skrek Evelyn, hennes vanligtvis samlade ansikte förvridet av ilska.

"Jag vet att det stör dig att Christopher är med mig, men allt du kan göra är att prata." Hon drog fram några papper från sin nya LV-väska och tryckte dem i mitt ansikte. "I kärlek är den som inte är älskad älskarinnan. Christopher och jag har känt varandra sedan vi var barn. Om du inte hade trängt dig in, skulle vi ha barn nu."

"Skilj dig från honom. Jag ger dig en miljon dollar." Evelyn räckte mig ett kort.

Skilsmässopappren krävde att jag skulle lämna med ingenting annat än miljonen.

Jag lekte med Evelyns kort, sedan brast jag ut i skratt. "Mrs. Valences titel är bara värd en miljon? Evelyn, är du pank och letar efter en rik kille? Och vem är du att säga detta till mig?"

Evelyn fnös. "Hope, Christopher är för snäll för att säga det själv. Var inte otacksam. Skriv på pappren nu, så kan du lämna med lite värdighet."

Jag tog ett steg tillbaka, rev skilsmässopappren i bitar och kastade dem i luften som konfetti, såg dem falla på Evelyns förvånade ansikte.

"Låt Christopher säga det själv."

Christopher hade alltid behandlat mig väl. Vi gifte oss inte av kärlek, men fram till idag hade jag aldrig tvivlat på hans lojalitet.

Alla sa att Christopher älskade mig, så vad var allt detta?

"Jag vill att han säger det till mitt ansikte. Älskarinnans ord räknas inte." Jag upprepade bestämt.

Evelyn vaknade äntligen till, stampade argt med sina höga klackar och höjde handen för att slå mig. Jag fångade hennes arm och slog henne istället.

Evelyn skrek, "Hope! Hur vågar du slå mig!"

Jag gnuggade min handled, kände mig nöjd. "Behöver jag boka tid för att slå dig?"

När Evelyn kastade sig mot mig igen, försökte greppa mitt hår, ekade fotsteg från dörröppningen. Ett par långa ben stod i vardagsrummets valv.

"Vad håller ni två på med?"

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