The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
You are reading The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife, Chapter 2: Chapter 2. Read more chapters of The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife.
The old man gave a slow, pained nod. "I was wrong to chain you to this family. Go. Find a life beyond these walls. You deserve more than this."
With that, he hunched forward, cradling the lifeless child in his arms, and walked away.
The second the door clicked shut, the dam broke. Tears I'd fought for years came pouring out—years of swallowed bitterness, of regrets I could never undo.
My marriage to Jonathan had been his grandfather's arrangement. He needed someone to rein in his wild grandson. I needed someone to cover my mother's medical bills.
A fair trade.
So I quit my job and became his wife.
Over time, I caught glimpses of the broken boy beneath his cold exterior—the way he'd wake up gasping for his mother in the dead of night, the way he never spoke of his parents. In those moments, our shattered pieces almost fit together.
I wanted to heal him.
I wanted to build something real with him.
So I became the perfect wife.
I burned myself in the kitchen, chasing the ghost of his mother's cooking—the only comfort he'd ever known. I scoured antique shops, trying to piece together the cabin from his childhood memories. I even studied every trick in the book to keep him satisfied in bed, praying it would make him stay.
I really thought we had a future.
Then, on our anniversary, he strolled into a hotel with my best friend on his arm—chin high, like it was nothing.
I chased after them like a madwoman, screaming for answers.
He just laughed and shoved the contract in my face.
"Zara, who the hell do you think you are? Just because I played house with you for a while, you actually believe you're Mrs. Richards?"
"You're nothing but a dog my grandfather bought. You have no right to question me. One wrong move, and your mother's treatments stop today."
The words hit like a knife to the chest. I couldn't breathe.
After that, Jonathan only got worse.
First, it was influencers. Then, my friends.
He pushed me further each time, watching to see how much I'd take.
On one side, my mother's life depended on his money.
On the other, my marriage was a rotting corpse.
I was being torn in half.
Then, one day, lost in my own thoughts, I slipped and tumbled down the stairs.
That's how I found out I was pregnant.
His grandfather begged me, desperate.
"Zara, please. Keep the baby. Maybe this can fix things. If Jonathan doesn't change after the child is born, I swear I won't force you to stay."
Against my better judgment, I agreed.
I tried. God, I tried harder than I ever had in my life.
But in the end, I lost everything—my mother, my baby, my marriage, even the love I'd foolishly believed in.
With that, he hunched forward, cradling the lifeless child in his arms, and walked away.
The second the door clicked shut, the dam broke. Tears I'd fought for years came pouring out—years of swallowed bitterness, of regrets I could never undo.
My marriage to Jonathan had been his grandfather's arrangement. He needed someone to rein in his wild grandson. I needed someone to cover my mother's medical bills.
A fair trade.
So I quit my job and became his wife.
Over time, I caught glimpses of the broken boy beneath his cold exterior—the way he'd wake up gasping for his mother in the dead of night, the way he never spoke of his parents. In those moments, our shattered pieces almost fit together.
I wanted to heal him.
I wanted to build something real with him.
So I became the perfect wife.
I burned myself in the kitchen, chasing the ghost of his mother's cooking—the only comfort he'd ever known. I scoured antique shops, trying to piece together the cabin from his childhood memories. I even studied every trick in the book to keep him satisfied in bed, praying it would make him stay.
I really thought we had a future.
Then, on our anniversary, he strolled into a hotel with my best friend on his arm—chin high, like it was nothing.
I chased after them like a madwoman, screaming for answers.
He just laughed and shoved the contract in my face.
"Zara, who the hell do you think you are? Just because I played house with you for a while, you actually believe you're Mrs. Richards?"
"You're nothing but a dog my grandfather bought. You have no right to question me. One wrong move, and your mother's treatments stop today."
The words hit like a knife to the chest. I couldn't breathe.
After that, Jonathan only got worse.
First, it was influencers. Then, my friends.
He pushed me further each time, watching to see how much I'd take.
On one side, my mother's life depended on his money.
On the other, my marriage was a rotting corpse.
I was being torn in half.
Then, one day, lost in my own thoughts, I slipped and tumbled down the stairs.
That's how I found out I was pregnant.
His grandfather begged me, desperate.
"Zara, please. Keep the baby. Maybe this can fix things. If Jonathan doesn't change after the child is born, I swear I won't force you to stay."
Against my better judgment, I agreed.
I tried. God, I tried harder than I ever had in my life.
But in the end, I lost everything—my mother, my baby, my marriage, even the love I'd foolishly believed in.
End of The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to The Billionaire's Roadkill Wife book page.