Desired by the Billionaire Playboy

Emily's pov

I moved in with Wendy, but that was supposed to be a temporary measure. I thought that after the divorce, from my own fifty percent, I could get my own decent apartment and get back on my feet. Wendy recommended a good lawyer. He was a cousin of hers and a nice guy; plump, with thick frames and a burning sense of justice.

He told me that the affair Brad had would give me a sure advantage. For the first few months of the divorce proceedings, Brad was suspiciously docile and understanding. Of course, that did not make me want to take him back, but rather, I was on my guard knowing that he would definitely pull something.

Then, after another hectic day in court, I stepped out with a smirk on my face, knowing that soon I would be officially severed from that man forever and with enough cash to keep me afloat for a while. Wendy had suggested that we go on a girls' trip. I agreed as I hadn't been on a proper outing all along because Brad would always be waiting back at home, ready to scream in my ear about how we were going to go bankrupt soon. He made me believe that only sluts went out without their boyfriend or husband.

Eventually, I started turning down every invitation to hang out until nobody other than Wendy bothered contacting me.

"Who knows?" Wendy said with a teasing nudge. "Maybe you might just run into BlueHaven guy again?"

My fingers froze, reaching for the passenger seat door.

Instantly, my whole face turned red, remembering the electric kiss that I shared with a stranger.

"We'll see," I responded, looking forward to my single life again.

"Emily!" I heard Brad calling my name. Wendy looked half ready to cause a scene, but I didn't want her to do that, especially while we were still close to the courtroom.

"Just get in the car, Wendy," I advised. "I'll join you in a minute."

I approached Brad before he could reach us. He was sweating by the time he stopped in front of me. He then wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and I just watched him patiently with my hands akimbo.

"If you're going to say something, then you should just get on with it. I don't have all the time in the world."

His jaw clenched.

"You become quite full of yourself, haven't you?" He remarked spitefully. "Don't forget that I know everything about you." He leaned closer and whispered, "Everything."

I stretched out my arm, forcing some distance between us.

"Would it kill you not to be an ass-hole for two seconds?" I run my fingers through my hair, "Why am I even listening to you? I don't care what you know as long as you stay away from me after the divorce. Believe it or not, I'm not going back to that life, Brad."

He tightened his fist.

"We already have a life together. You are the one who is selfishly throwing it all away because of one little mistake."

I opened my mouth, almost about to speak. I curled my lips shut again, resigned not to waste anymore words on this man. It wasn't bad enough that he was the one who wrecked everything, but he was so bent on pushing all the blame to me.

I moved my legs towards Wendy's car, trying to reach it. But then I felt Brad's strong grip on my arm, dragging me back. I shrugged him off, and he grew more annoyed.

"I'll give you by the end of today, Emily..." He said with a stern tone. "Come back to me. Get rid of all this divorce nonsense, and I'll forgive you for everything. We can go back to normal..."

What did he mean by normal? The awful treatment? Eating cold suppers because I always had to wait for him? Was that the 'normal' he was talking about?

"No, thanks, but I'm good," I finally mouthed.

I walked faster this time so he couldn't catch up to me.

That night, I ignored his warning, wondering what he could possibly do to hurt me.

The next morning, I woke up to my mother's voice screaming the roof down. In panic, I slipped on my flip flops and ran to the living room in my pajamas, where Wendy was trying and failing to calm my mother down. Behind her was my Dad, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked, my voice itched with concern. With her phone in one hand, she decorated my left cheek with a thunderous slap. It hurt so bad that I tasted blood in my mouth.

I looked up at my mom with disbelief. Not sure of what to say, as if I had undergone a factory reset.

"Mom?" I asked, flustered and worried.

"Did you think that nobody would find out?" She said with steam shooting out of her ears, "You were parading around like a hypocrite, accusing your sister of being a homewrecker when you were something so much worse than that."

Wendy tried to get between me and my mom so that she wouldn't have the chance to hit me again. While I was still trying to recuperate from the first slap, my mom flashed her phone screen on my face.

My jaw dropped.

What I saw did more damage than a mere slap.

I could hear my brain, chorusing, "Ground, open and swallow me up."