Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 82: Chapter 82

MEREDITH
The penthouse that was my new home was absolutely stunning. I mean, I grew up wealthy, but I never dreamed I’d live on Billionaire’s Row.
I wasn’t one of those Jersey Girls who ran to the big city every chance she got, so I was sort of a tourist in Manhattan. I liked it, though.
The energy. The history. The architecture. Even the crowds.
But I was lonely. Even working again, I felt so damn alone.
Mario was always around. Not in the penthouse. But downstairs if I needed something. Today, he escorted me to and from the Manhattan location for St. E’s. Afterwards, he informed me that would be the way of things.
So, I didn’t need any of those bus routes I’d printed.
That was twenty minutes of my life I wasn’t getting back. Oh well.
Chewing my lip, I thought about the glass of white wine I was going to pour when I got home and sighed.
Almost there. Just as soon as traffic clears.
Right now, we were sitting at an intersection, and it would be a few minutes before we could move again. Well, at least it gave me time to think about the real problem. The thing that had me worrying day and night.
I was sleeping alone, and it bothered me.
Also, it bothered me that it bothered me.
I should be relieved. Right? I shouldn’t want that from him.
But now that we’d been intimate again, I was feeling sort of, well, needy.
Goddamnit, why should I feel ashamed about that? I was human, too.
I wasn’t the one who sought Josef out or asked him to marry me. He was the one who said I wouldn’t be sleeping alone.
Putting ideas in my head.
Smelling so damn good.
Dragging me off to Vegas to get married. Fucking me like the god he is until I came screaming his name.
Then we come back, and poof, nothing? Oh, fuck him!
Did I do something wrong? Was I not any good? I had no idea. Because he wasn’t even talking to me. I never even saw him. Like at all.
The only proof I had that he was here were his dirty clothes he left neatly in the hamper inside the guest room.
Douche canoe.
Couldn’t he at least be an inconsiderate prick? If he was rude to the housekeeper, or made a mess, I could maybe hate him a little.
But no. He paid well. He was polite. He worked hard.
He just didn’t like me.
Fucking fantastic.
Nope, I didn’t know why Josef stopped coming to bed after our wedding. And right now, I didn’t care.
If I wasn’t good enough for the experienced Josef Aziz, well then, he could just take a long walk off a very short pier. The jerk!
My cheeks burned as I rode in the back of the SUV. I needed to sort through everything that had happened over the past week. I needed to try to process what I was going through.
This was as good a time as any.
The day after we returned from Vegas, we buried my stepfather.
That was pretty damn traumatic.
And I’d appreciated Josef taking point and then standing quietly by my side for the duration. But maybe it would have been better if he’d asked questions.
Or maybe it would have been better if I simply told him the truth.
But how did you start a conversation like that?
Hello Husband,
So the guy you thought was my bio Dad was actually my stepfather, a fact I hadn’t learned until the same night you took my virginity.
But hey that was only after he’d slapped me and tore my shirt when trying to grab me inappropriately.
You see, he was mad that he couldn’t give his virgin redheaded daughter to some oil tycoon he was trying to make a deal with.
Crazy, right? So yeah, in case you were wondering why I didn’t want to put a rose on his coffin and why I didn’t cry, that’s the reason.
Any questions?
Yeah, I didn’t think that would go over so well, either.
“How long till we get there?” I asked Mario, my permanent chauffeur/bodyguard, recently appointed to that position by my husband.
“About fifteen minutes, Mrs. Aziz.”
“You can call me Meredith.”
“I don’t think so, ma’am.”
“Whatever. Thank you,” I replied.
Being driven to my job at a woman’s shelter by Mario, the six foot tall, half as wide man with a shaved head and a face that looked like he never smiled a day in his whole life, had been difficult to explain to Sr. Elise, my boss.
The shelter was for victims of domestic violence, and Mario, while I knew he was a good guy because Josef wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t, was likely a bit much for the residents to deal with.
“Um, Mario, I wanted to thank you for understanding about not coming inside with me today. That was cool of you.”
“Oh, I, uh, I was there.”
“What? I didn’t see you,” I said, stunned by the revelation.
“Sorry, Boss said I had to. But no worries. I cleared it with Sr. Elise first.”
“You called Sr. Elise?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t offer any more information, and I was too damn stunned to ask.
Did Josef do a background check on me or the staff?
It was the only explanation for Mario knowing where I worked and who my boss was.
Hurt and anger warred within me.
Why didn’t he just ask me himself?
I sniffed, forcing myself not to cry while Mario parked the SUV in the underground lot.
If my husband couldn’t be bothered talking to me directly about my life, then I supposed I didn’t have to worry about sharing any of my past with him. It wasn’t like he was offering me any information about him.
Fine. He could just keep his business and his stupid-talented hands to himself!
My stomach clenched.
It all made sense now.
He was using sex as a form of punishment! Making me experience what I’d missed these past fifteen years only to withhold his attentions after.
That giant asshole!
I was such a fool. I knew he’d married me for revenge, but I didn’t think he hated me so much. I just wished I could hate him back.
I closed my eyes, feeling the car lurch forward as Mario released the break.
Fuck Josef. Fuck him so much.