The Daring Billionaire’s Wife by Lypstical

Vanessa 

It’s very unusual for my dad to call me first thing in the morning, but today seems to be an exception. I don’t know what got Into him. 

“How’s your husband this morning?” he says, straining his voice little. 

“He’s alright. He’s already left for work.” 

“I’m glad.” 

He strains his voice again and the more we talk, the more I feel like something’s off with him. 

“Dad? Is something wrong?” 

“Not at all w 

“Not at all. Why would you think something’s wrong?” 

“You sound a little different.” 

“I guess I’m just stressed from all the work. With all the new investors coming in, I’ve already started making massive profits in a short period of time, but that means I also have to be more involved.” 

“I see. That puts me at ease. Tll talk to you later.” 

“I’ll talk to you later, my child.” 

After I put down my phone, I step into the shower and let the water soak my scalp. I take my time with it, thinking about how I haven’t seen Dominic since yesterday in the morning when he left for work. 

He must’ve come back much later in the night because I didn’t even hear him come in. And this morning, I only heard. footsteps in the hallway. 

After I’m done with my shower, I step onto the mat with a towel wrapped around my body. 

As soon as I open the bathroom door, the image of Dominic looking at my bare chest flashes in my mind. Is this what awaits me now? Will I always see him standing there and watching me? 

I wish I could change bedrooms, but that might make it obvious to him that something is up with me. I still don’t want him to know that I remember certain things. 

All dressed up, I head down stairs so I can have my breakfast. I’ve never sat at the dining table early in the morning to have a meal. 

The best part about this is that he’s already gone for work, so I don’t have to run into him. 

After I make it downstairs and make my way to the dining table, the butlers and maidservants are all lined up, panicking a This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

little. 

“I apologize for the delay, Ma’am” one of the butlers says to me. I was just about to come up and call you!” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I say to him. “I just came down early.” 

My assurance that I’m not mad about it seems to make them all relax a bit. 

As I turn at the corner, stepping foot into the dining room, I look down at my dress, trying to reposition the loose belt. 

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But as I look up, I stop in my tracks at the sight before me. Dominic’s sitting at the table, having his breakfast. Why’s he still here? I thought he had already left. 

My first instinct is to turn around and leave, but again, that will just make it obvious that I’m being awkward around him because I remember what happened. 

Holding my head high, I relax my shoulders and approach the table. 

I wonder if I should say good morning to him or not I’ve never cone that before, but the room is already thick with tension. 

The butler comes in and pulls out a chair from me, then leaves. 

even look up at me as he eats. I guess I’ll keep my 

I’m sitting on the other end so I’m not too close to him. He doesn’t ew greeting to myself. 

As I finally help myself and begin to eat, there’s quite a distance between us because the dining table is wide, but I can feel his eyes on me. Is he thinking about what happened? Does he really not remember or am I right to think that he was alert enough to remember? 

I ignore it for a few seconds, but I still feel his eyes on me and I can’t take it anymore. 

“Is there something on my face?” I ask, looking up from my plate 

“Are you talking to me?” he asks arrogantly from the other side of the table. 

“We’re the only ones here. Of course I’m talking to you.” 

He scoffs. “But why would you ask me that?” 

“It just felt like you were looking at me.” 

“Get over yourself. Why would I ever look at you?” 

I’m instantly reminded of how he looked at my bare chest, but I soon block it out. 

“Then forget it,” I say in response. “I guess my eyes were deceiving me.” 

“Get them checked or something,” he says mockingly. 

For a few more minutes, there’s the clanking of utensils until he finally gets up to leave. He heads out, only to turn around and take a few steps toward me. 

“When do you plan on going to the orphanage?” he asks with a blank expression. 

“Three days from now. Why do you ask?” 

“That way, they’ll know when to expect you. I’ll be out of town for three days, working with my father. 

It gives me some relief knowing that he won’t be around. 

“And when do you plan on visiting Little Warriors Hospital with the toys?” he asks, bringing my focus back to him. 

I can do it on the same day.” 

“Good, because the kids kept asking me about you yesterday.” 

“They did? I’m unable to hide my amusement so I smile a little. 

“Yeah, it was actually annoying.” He rolls his eyes. It almost feels like he’s a little bit jealous. “I only kept telling them that 

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you’d be there soon, so you better work on that.” 

“I will. I promised them.” 

“I know.” 

“Fine.” 

He faces the other side and says, “I’m leaving now, I’ll be back in three days. If there’s anything you need, and I mean anything at all, don’t ask me. 

1 shake my head at him. There’s that asshole side of him that I know. This usually makes it easy for me to hate him, but right now, why don’t I feel that way? 

As I think ab 

it, he pops back in and approaches my side of the table. 

“Did you forget something?” I curiously narrow my eyes. 

“Why else do you think I’m back here?” 

“Fine. What is it?” I cross my arms as I lean back in my seat. 

He raises his finger at me, his expression serious as he speaks to me. 

“While I’m away, don’t go out to drink. If you want to do that, drink from right here.” 

Til drink from wherever I want.” I purse my lips. 

“No. Don’t you dare do that. I now know what you’re like when drunk.” 

My eyes widen a little as I wonder if he’ll add something more, but he simply puts his hand down and turns around to leave again. 

Sometimes, he makes it difficult to understand him. Is there a small part of him that’s actually concerned about my wellbeing, or is he just being self–centered so he can always show off to everyone that he’s taking care of me? 

Just when I’m certain he’s finally about to leave, he once again steps in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. 

“One more thing 

“What is it this time? I’m already not taking him seriously, but his next words make me a little nervous. “You h 

better keep track of that fertile window because I’m waiting for it. 

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