The Billionaire And His One Night Stand

78



Los Angeles, Sebastian

I paced back and forth in my room, the weight of the threatening phone call pressing heavily on my chest. It felt like deja vu, the memories of past troubles and turmoil rushing back. I had thought that our lives were finally settling into a semblance of normalcy, but now, once again, we were being threatened.

After the unsettling call, I had immediately hung up on Mia, unable to bear the thought of sharing this frightening news with her over the phone. My mind raced, and I couldn’t help but replay the menacing words in my head. The unknown caller had warned me that if I didn’t divorce Mia instantly, both her and our unborn baby would be killed. They emphasized the gravity of the situation by adding that I couldn’t tell anyone about the threat, as doing so would also seal Mia’s fate.

I was at a loss, torn between the urge to protect my family and the desire to confront this threat head-on. The thought of Mia and our baby being in danger was a nightmare I never wanted to face. In that moment, I didn’t know whom to trust, and paranoia gripped me.

The instinct to keep Mia safe took over, and I decided to confide in my best friend, Patrick. He was someone I trusted implicitly, and I knew that he would be a steadfast ally in this dangerous game that had unexpectedly reared its head.

Dialing Patrick’s number, I felt my hands tremble with unease. When he answered, his voice was laced with concern as he inquired, “Sebby, what’s wrong?”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

I hesitated for a moment, my words catching in my throat. “Patrick, I need you to do something for me,” I finally said, my voice wavering with the seriousness of the situation. I proceeded to recount the threatening phone call, the ominous voice on the other end, and the ultimatum they had given me.

Patrick’s silence on the other end of the line was deafening, and I could sense the weight of my words sinking in. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady, “Sebby, we’ll get through this. We need to take every precaution to protect Mia and the baby.”

I knew I could rely on Patrick, and his support was a lifeline in this time of uncertainty. We agreed that he would discreetly keep an eye on Mia, ensuring her safety without arousing suspicion. I felt a glimmer of hope, a reassurance that we were not alone in this perilous situation.

With Patrick’s help, I hung up the phone, knowing that Mia and the baby were being looked after. But now I faced another dilemma, a choice that seemed impossible. Should I bow to the demands of this unknown threat and divorce Mia, or should I fight back against this sinister force?

The conflicting emotions raged within me, and I couldn’t find an easy answer. I felt trapped in a game of chess, with my family’s lives hanging in the balance. The room, once a haven of comfort, had transformed into a prison of uncertainty.

The helplessness of the situation was overwhelming, and I needed an outlet for my frustration and fear. In a fit of anger and desperation, I grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it against the wall. The sound of shattering glass filled the room as my silent scream reverberated in the empty space.

The shards of glass lay scattered on the floor, mirroring the fragments of my thoughts. I couldn’t allow this threat to dictate our lives, but I also couldn’t risk the safety of Mia and our unborn child. The emotions battled within me, leaving me mentally and emotionally drained.

I sat alone in the dimly lit living room, my phone resting on the coffee table before me, Mia’s texts beckoning me. The messages were filled with her longing and concern, the words of a wife who missed her husband deeply. She had no idea of the storm that raged within me, the dilemma that tore at my heart.

The seconds ticked away, and my inner turmoil continued to brew. On one hand, I yearned to respond to Mia, to ease her worries and reassure her of my love. But on the other, the truth stood as an unyielding wall. I could not lie to my wife. The stakes were too high.

The weight of my silence bore down on me, and I groaned, feeling as though I were at war with myself. Our love was built on trust, and the thought of withholding the truth, even for what I believed to be a noble reason, felt like a betrayal.

Mia had always been an independent spirit, determined to pursue her dreams and follow her own path. When the opportunity to chase her ambitions had come, it was a joy to see her flourish, but it also meant that we were physically apart more often than not. While I was proud of her, I couldn’t help but feel the sting of loneliness and the gnawing fear for her safety.

My mind was a battleground of emotions. I was angry at Mia for not wanting to come live with me, for not allowing me to be closer to her, to protect her. But at the same time, I understood her dreams, the fire that burned within her. She was still young, full of aspirations and potential. It wasn’t fair to ask her to give up on her dreams just for my peace of mind.

The silence in the room was deafening, and I couldn’t escape the sense of helplessness. I was trapped in a paradox of my own making, torn between my love for Mia and my commitment to honesty.

Exhaustion began to creep over me, a consequence of the inner battle that had raged all night. I longed for the comforting presence of Mia by my side, but I knew that she was miles away, her dreams awaiting her in a different city. I leaned back on the couch, closed my eyes, and let the weariness overtake me.

The warmth of the living room, the flickering light of the television, and the dull hum of the refrigerator combined to create a lullaby, easing me into a deep, restless sleep.

In my dreams, I saw Mia, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and longing. She reached out her hand, trying to bridge the physical distance that separated us, and I could almost feel her touch. But the dream was elusive, flickering like a distant star, and before I could grasp it fully, it dissolved into the abyss.

As I awoke, disoriented and still torn by my conflicting emotions, I realized that it was morning. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, and the room felt brighter, less oppressive.

I knew that I couldn’t let my inner turmoil continue to fester. Mia deserved to know the truth, and I deserved the peace of mind that would come with honesty. I reached for my phone, scrolled through the messages that I had been unable to reply to, and carefully typed my response.

“Mia,” I began, my fingers trembling as I tapped out each word. “I love you more than anything, and I miss you deeply. But I need to tell you something important. Please call me when you can.”


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