I’m Divorcing with You Mr Billionaire! (Sydney and Mark)

Chapter 98



Chapter 98

Chapter 98 Chapter Ninety Eight

SYDNEY’S POV

I couldn’t remember how I ended up on the bed with Dylan last night… Or maybe I did, I just didn’t want to recall it, I couldn’t. I feel sore all over. And right now, all I feel is extreme tiredness and a grawing hunger.

Dylan whoever he really was, was a greedy and insatiable man. It only took not more than twenty minutes after pulling away from me for him to get on top of me again. He kept grinding me like he was some beast, ordering me to keep telling him I loved him. What type of psycho was that?

I actually wished the gnawing hunger was related to my tiredness or even a little something to do with it but no. The louder my cries and fake moans mixed with his loud grunts got, the higher my ha- tred for him heightened. My hunger for revenge was making me starved and I needed to collect my- self before I did something really stupid and get myself killed.

Every touch of his hands on my skin made me want to recoil in disgust. The weight of his body pin- ning me down was like being smothered by a massive rock. Each thrust felt like a violation, yet I had to feign pleasure to keep up this sickening charade. With every passing minute, I could feel my soul being chipped away bit by bit.

I also noticed that he hadn’t used protection. He usually remembered to use it when he pretended to be Lucas, apart from the times where we weren’t acting like rowdy animals. The only thing I was grateful for was that I had an IUD installed before coming to Italy.

When I still thought I was abandoned, I knew I was mad at Lucas. Raving mad but it never extended to hating him. I still loved him, I was just angry and sad that he left but he not only leave, he left with- out so much as an appropriate goodbye. So I was worried that I might not be able to

control my – al desires if I ever found him which might in turn lead to another pregnancy – which I was sure I would

not be ready for, no doubt.

At first, I didn’t want to admit it because the thought itself was embarrassing but I had to come to terms with myself and do the needful. Now, it was what would save me from having another child for this man. A small mercy amidst this living nightmare.

My stomach growled and I silently moaned as I clutched it, I was starving in the literal sense. The couldn’t even have the decency to order us some food before he sucked all of the strength out of me. Just another display of his utter selfishness and lack of care for me as a person. I was merely an object to be used for his twisted desires.

I briefly glanced at his plastic face. He was still sound asleep. I sighed and turned away from him on the bed. Then I quietly rose from my sleeping position and sat at the edge of the bed so I would- n’t disturb him. In truth, I didn’t want him to wake up yet because I wasn’t ready to hear his command- ing voice or see his sickening smirk. I needed this little time alone so that I could be able to prepare myself for the horrible day ahead. These fleeting moments of solitude were my only reprieve.

As I was about to get on my feet, my roaming eyes fell on a handgun – the one from yesterday – hang- ing out of the pocket of his jacket on the coat rack. My gaze glued to it and my heart rate quickened,

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slamming against my chest as it did. Should I pick it up? If I could quietly reach there and grab the gun without waking me up, I would only be a trigger away from ending all of this and fulfilling my

Wish

I would be quick and easy. All I have to do is slightly hurt myself so that I would be able to feign to the hotel security that I shot him in self–defense. I almost went through with it; I almost leapt out of

bed and tiptoed there but then… It could be a test. No, I wouldn’t do it. Seeing that, he was still having trouble believing that I loved him, even as he me throughout the night, the psycho might put

me through some sick tests that were as sick as his head.

So I diminished every thought of killing him in his sleep. Besides what satisfaction was there in killing him while he was asleep? That would be a peaceful death at most. I need him to feel that tight- ening in his chest after I’ve made him believe me and love me back when I turn the gun on him. If I killed him now, I’d only be confirming his suspicion which in some way would be satisfying to him. No

he didn’t deserve such an easy end. He needed to suffer first…

Suddenly, I felt a prickle at the back of my neck and I knew that I was being watched at that very mo- ment but I didn’t dare to look back.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to relax. Relax, Sydney, you still have things under control. I took a deep breath, pushing down the rising panic. One misstep and this whole plan could unravel. I can’t let my fear or disgust show through. I am the actor here and he is the audience. I must play my role. flawlessly

I stood from the bed with a yawn and stretched as I made my way to the bathroom. In the bath- room, I turned on the tap and washed my face. The cool water helped clear my head a bit. I stared at my

my reflection – my eyes looked hollow, devoid of the light they once held. How much more of my- self would I have to sacrifice?

Then I went into the shower and set the water temperature to ‘cold‘ and stood under it. Goose- bumps rapidly spread all over my body and I felt the urge to turn it off and have a warm bath instead but a warm bath would not prepare me for the day ahead. I needed a scrub bath. I needed to scrape away every last remnant of him from my skin.

As I took my bath, memories of last night flashed in my eyes and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I didn’t stop them. Thank God I was in the shower a cold shower at that. The icy water masked my sobs as I cried for Aiden, my sweet boy who I may never get to see again. I cried for Lu- cas, the man I loved, now just a ghost of a memory trapped behind this horrific facade.

I cried as I scrubbed my body like a mad woman just to get his touch and cologne off me, even though I knew he would still touch me again. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I could never be clean. His violation had stained my soul.

I wrapped a towel around my damp body and stood before the bathroom mirror. I looked at my tired face, even after the shower, the bone–deep exhaustion I felt still shone through. The fear that filled my eyes was easy to hide but the hate was the hardest to hide. It filled me up

everywhere to the brim, dripping off me in multifolds. As much as I’d like him to see this – how much he repulsed me – I had to replace the hate with love; love for my beloved Dylan. At least on the surface.

I smiled at myself in the mirror, a hollow, practiced smile. I gave myself a small nod and left the bath-

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room, my game face on. No matter how hard this was, I had to see it through. Survive first, then live.

Naturally, my gaze riveted to him as I stepped into the room. He was still asleep. Or he was still pre- tending to be asleep. I wouldn’t put it past him to be testing me even now.

As I passed by, I accidentally bumped into the coat rack, causing the gun to slip out of the pocket and drop on the floor with a resounding thud. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Shit!” I muttered under my breath but then, I frowned at the gun on the floor. What?

Almost immediately, Dylan quickly sat up, looking dazed. In a blur, he was on the floor, he reached for the gun and pointed it toward me.

I took reflexive steps back. Stay calm, I told myself, don’t let him sense your fear.

“I’m sorry,” I pleaded, making my voice tremble. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m really sorry.”

There was a nasty sneer on his face and his voice was low and dangerous. “You want to kill me, don’t you? It was your plan all along.”

I shook my head and said in a weak, quivering voice, “I didn’t.” I made my eyes wide, full of innocent fear.

He scoffed and his eyes became even colder as he snarled, “Do you think I would believe you?”

“I really didn’t, I just got up to take a shower,” I cried, making the tears flow. I was the picture of a ter- rified woman, pleading for her life.

I should be hit with the hot sting of a bullet that will go right through my neck, right? Yes, but noth- ing happened.

I tried to look as surprised as I could as a triumphant smile spread across his face.

“Just kidding, there are no bullets in this gun.”

My face turned pale and my eyes filled with tears and fear. “You can’t scare me like this anymore,” I cried, my voice quivering, “My heart literally stopped beating, Dylan.”

I watched as he laughed and walked to me. “God, you should’ve seen your face.”

I gave him a blank ‘I’m angry but it’s hard to be mad at you because I freaking love you‘ expression, “It’s not funny, Dylan. I was terrified.”

He smirked and just moved closer. He stroked my chin tenderly and I giggled in response. Thanks to my past self defense classes and Mark’s insistence in ensuring I underwent three months of shooting training, the moment the gun hit the ground, I knew there were no bullets in it. So, this was a test, afterall. A dumb test, if you ask me. But I’m glad that I passed.


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