Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 31: Chapter 31
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Quinn's eyes opened, and at such a close distance, I could see my own blurred reflection in the deep pools of his gaze.
I'd grown used to the icy way he looked at me, but this time, there was something different—something smoldering beneath the surface. The frost in his eyes seemed to melt, replaced by an almost hypnotic heat, swirling into an intoxicating mist.
I couldn't read him. I never could. What was he thinking?
His intense gaze unsettled me, so I called his name, as if to remind him that I was Natalia, not anyone else.
But before I could say more, he leaned down abruptly and silenced me with his lips.
Kisses rained down relentlessly, his breath warm and heavy. I felt the shift beneath me, the unmistakable evidence that the alcohol had stirred something in him.
"Stop it!" I shoved him away with all my strength, my voice trembling with anger. "Don't pull this drunken crap with me. Do you even know who I am right now?"
I wasn't Diana. And I'd be damned if I let myself become her stand-in.
"Mm," Quinn murmured lowly, ignoring my resistance. His lips found mine again, rough and insistent, as he mumbled my name against my skin, "Natalia..."
I froze, caught off guard by the sound of my own name. What was he doing? Had he completely lost his mind, or was he trying to punish me in some twisted way?
Before I could make sense of it, he tore at my clothes, his actions driven by something raw and untamed.
I knew there was no stopping him. Fighting back would only exhaust me further, so I gave up, letting him take what he wanted. When he was finally spent, he fell into a deep sleep beside me.
My emotions were a tangled mess. There were too many unanswered questions, but my body was drained, too tired to hold onto them. Despite everything, I eventually fell asleep next to him.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the empty space beside me. Quinn was gone. Only his discarded clothes remained, a silent reminder of what had happened.
I thought he'd left for good, but when I went downstairs, there he was—sitting casually at the dining table, as if nothing had happened.
"You're still here?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my surprise evident.
He looked up, his face clouded with something dark and unreadable. Instead of answering, he barked, "I'm hungry. Make me breakfast."
Seriously? I wasn't his maid.
That was what I thought, but somehow, my body moved before my brain could catch up. Instinctively, I headed to the kitchen.
I made a quick toast, poured some milk from the fridge, and placed it in front of him.
"For your own good, maybe you should hire a housekeeper," I said casually, fiddling with the utensils as if the suggestion wasn't meant to provoke him.
We were practically on the brink of divorce—so why the hell was I still doing this?
Quinn's cold laugh cut through the air, sharp and bitter. He took a long swig of milk, his expression hardening. "Have you looked at the divorce agreement?"
I nodded, caught off guard by how quickly he got to the point. "Yes, I have. But I can't come up with 10 million dollars right now. Can I write you an IOU? I'll pay it back—with interest—when I can."
He snorted, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Natalia, do you really think that highly of yourself?" His voice dripped with derision. "You wouldn't earn 10 million dollars if you worked your entire life."
He wasn't wrong. Even with a dream job paying 30,000 dollars a month, it would take me ten years of living like a monk to save that kind of money.
I had no comeback. He was right, after all.
After a long pause, I muttered, "So this is just you making things impossible for me, isn't it? Quinn, I really don't understand why you won't just let me go."
I looked at him, unable to stop the bitter thought from crossing my mind: Could he actually not want to lose me?
I'd grown used to the icy way he looked at me, but this time, there was something different—something smoldering beneath the surface. The frost in his eyes seemed to melt, replaced by an almost hypnotic heat, swirling into an intoxicating mist.
I couldn't read him. I never could. What was he thinking?
His intense gaze unsettled me, so I called his name, as if to remind him that I was Natalia, not anyone else.
But before I could say more, he leaned down abruptly and silenced me with his lips.
Kisses rained down relentlessly, his breath warm and heavy. I felt the shift beneath me, the unmistakable evidence that the alcohol had stirred something in him.
"Stop it!" I shoved him away with all my strength, my voice trembling with anger. "Don't pull this drunken crap with me. Do you even know who I am right now?"
I wasn't Diana. And I'd be damned if I let myself become her stand-in.
"Mm," Quinn murmured lowly, ignoring my resistance. His lips found mine again, rough and insistent, as he mumbled my name against my skin, "Natalia..."
I froze, caught off guard by the sound of my own name. What was he doing? Had he completely lost his mind, or was he trying to punish me in some twisted way?
Before I could make sense of it, he tore at my clothes, his actions driven by something raw and untamed.
I knew there was no stopping him. Fighting back would only exhaust me further, so I gave up, letting him take what he wanted. When he was finally spent, he fell into a deep sleep beside me.
My emotions were a tangled mess. There were too many unanswered questions, but my body was drained, too tired to hold onto them. Despite everything, I eventually fell asleep next to him.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the empty space beside me. Quinn was gone. Only his discarded clothes remained, a silent reminder of what had happened.
I thought he'd left for good, but when I went downstairs, there he was—sitting casually at the dining table, as if nothing had happened.
"You're still here?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my surprise evident.
He looked up, his face clouded with something dark and unreadable. Instead of answering, he barked, "I'm hungry. Make me breakfast."
Seriously? I wasn't his maid.
That was what I thought, but somehow, my body moved before my brain could catch up. Instinctively, I headed to the kitchen.
I made a quick toast, poured some milk from the fridge, and placed it in front of him.
"For your own good, maybe you should hire a housekeeper," I said casually, fiddling with the utensils as if the suggestion wasn't meant to provoke him.
We were practically on the brink of divorce—so why the hell was I still doing this?
Quinn's cold laugh cut through the air, sharp and bitter. He took a long swig of milk, his expression hardening. "Have you looked at the divorce agreement?"
I nodded, caught off guard by how quickly he got to the point. "Yes, I have. But I can't come up with 10 million dollars right now. Can I write you an IOU? I'll pay it back—with interest—when I can."
He snorted, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Natalia, do you really think that highly of yourself?" His voice dripped with derision. "You wouldn't earn 10 million dollars if you worked your entire life."
He wasn't wrong. Even with a dream job paying 30,000 dollars a month, it would take me ten years of living like a monk to save that kind of money.
I had no comeback. He was right, after all.
After a long pause, I muttered, "So this is just you making things impossible for me, isn't it? Quinn, I really don't understand why you won't just let me go."
I looked at him, unable to stop the bitter thought from crossing my mind: Could he actually not want to lose me?
End of Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son Chapter 31. Continue reading Chapter 32 or return to Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son book page.