Married To A Powerful Domineering Billionaire

Chapter 8: Pleasing Her



Pleasing Her

Rayne’s POV

“Alright, wife, I’ll have a room prepared for you.”

I glanced up at him, surprised that he agreed.

“Thank you,” I said to him, grateful that he had agreed. He nodded, turned around, and started toward the door. But he soon stopped just when he had grabbed the knob, and then turned to me.

“What’s your favorite color?”

I was taken aback by the question, but I still answered.

“Dark Purple,” I replied and saw him lift a brow, expressing brief surprise before nodding and walking away.

ERIC’S POV

“I- it’s not that, I just want to be by myself for now.” I watched her talk, she had her head bowed, and was stammering like a scared little kitten in front of a bulldog and I couldn’t help but wonder if I looked scary.

I could make her stay in my room. I could make her share my room. I could just say the words and she would have no choice but to stay back here with me, but, for some reason I couldn’t, not with her looking at me with frightened eyes as though I was some cannibal after her frail human flesh. And just like that, I found myself agreeing.

“Alright wife, I’d prepare a room for you.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

She looked up at me with puppy eyes and muttered a ‘thank you. I jerked back involuntarily at the sudden emotions crawling into me because of those eyes. I looked away from her and walked away. Anything to avoid those eyes. But, as soon as I had held the knob, I turned to her.

“What’s your favorite color?”

‘Erickkkk!’ I mentally scolded myself as soon as the words came out.

“Purple.” She said, surprising me. I had thought she’d say Pink., but no, Purple was, and that too, a dark shade of it.

RAYNE’s POV

I watched him walk away and then I wrapped myself up on the bed, feeling the silk material underneath graze my skin. I stared around again and then remembered something.

‘Elaina!’ Oh my god, she’d be so worried right now. How had I forgotten about her, my flight, and Sarah? Elaina must have called a thousand times already.

I searched the bedside drawer next to me for my phone but didn’t find it. Where did he keep it?

I jumped out of the bed in search of my boxes and my handbags, but couldn’t find them.

I bit my lips in fear. Wondering if he had kidnapped me or something. What if he was a bad person? I wondered rushing toward the door, and in the process of trying to unlock it, I caught a glimpse of the android on the small glass table amid two pristine white sofa chairs.

Letting go of the door, I hurried toward the sofas and grabbed my phone from it. The moment I turned the screen on, a bold mixture of numbers and alphabet caught my attention.

3:30 PM

I desperately started searching through my phone book for saved numbers, and surprisingly, all numbers were intact. I dialed Elaina’s number but it went to voicemail. Two more times, but it kept going to voicemail, so I decided to send her a text message. But it stunned me to see that I had already sent her one two hours ago. But… When did I? I also tried calling Sarah but she wasn’t picking up.

I curled myself up on the couch, trying my hardest to bite back on the tears brewing its threat at the back of my eyes, but it was more difficult than it seemed. Tears slipped through my eyes, wetting my cheeks. I felt both heartbroken and scared. Why were all the bad things happening to me all of a sudden? I wished Fred would come and save me, but who was I kidding? He hadn’t even replied to my message nor were there any missed calls from him. He must be with his new muse. The woman he cheated with. I found myself crying over again at the thought of that.

Here I was, married to a stranger, while he was there enjoying his freedom with other women. The thought of it was painful, too painful that I could no longer hold me from crying aloud.

How do people get over a heartbreak?

ERIC’s POV

It has been two hours since I left the house after receiving an urgent call about work.

My PA had called to report a suspected threat from one of our client companies. The situation needed my urgent attention and presence, so I went to take care of it, but those two hours I had spent at the office, had felt quite unusual like I wasn’t entirely there. A major part of me had desperately wanted to be back at the penthouse for some unusual reason. It couldn’t be because of the little woman in my room, right?

And, as I finally rode back to the penthouse, something inside of me couldn’t wait to be there. And by the time the car zeroed into the building, I could barely wait for my chauffeur to open the door for me. But I had to exercise that patience, and still the crazy urge to be out of the car and in my room at that moment.

Austin, my chauffeur, hurried out, but it didn’t seem that way to me. He opened the car and gave way, slightly bowing.

I climbed down and made for the entrance door. I rode the elevator to the hallway where my new wife’s room was. I needed to check on the finished room. Before leaving, I had instructed that the room be renovated to a dark shade of purple. Opening the door, I checked to see what a purple interior had amounted to, and to my surprise, it looked better than I had expected.

Once finished with the inspection, I went to my room and the sight of a frail little woman sleeping welcomed me.


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