𝗕𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻-My Cold Billionaire Husband

Chapter 06

Arabella

'Bald and Beautiful.'

My topic to talk about at 'Inspire me now' in the next few months.

Tight ponytails for hours on end damage hair and equals baldness for eternity? So this death grip for more than an hour means bald for the next 79 lifetimes with a bonus of being even balder in the afterlife?

I'd be a bald ghost? Haunting with shiny scalp?

They say laughter is the best medicine, but I think a good wig might be a close second.

I'm terrified for my life, both now and afterlife. I considered trying to escape this deathly hold, but fear rooted me in place. We narrowly avoided being hit by countless cars and large trucks, as if we were characters in a real-life version of the game 'Subway Surfers'.

As we drove, I looked out at the passing scenery, trying to find something familiar, something I knew. But everything was unfamiliar and unknown. I had no idea where we were headed.

The only thing I was sure of, and terrified by, was what awaited me after this ride: a future without hair and afterlife with shiny scalp.

The monster beside me gripped my hair so tightly, it felt like a death sentence. With just one hand on the steering wheel, he manoeuvred the car like a beast, and I couldn't shake the fear of what lay ahead.

My heart pounded with fear as the scenery shifted abruptly, the haunting lush trees of the forest enveloping us. I swallowed dreadfully, the thought of meeting my demise in these woods unsettling me, making me feel all kinds of unease.

Instead of snoozing on a cosy bed after I'm gone, I'll be hanging out on some ancient, old creepy tree branch of a haunting forest in the afterlife?

This place was so eerie that I was convinced, it must have scared away even the deadliest of ghosts and the bravest of vampires.

If I kick the bucket here, am I doomed to be the only ghost in this joint? The only spirit hanging around? Stuck flying solo?

Oh Lord! Wasn't being lonely while alive bad enough? Now you're planning for me to be lonely even in the afterlife?

I know I've no standards while alive, that's why I agreed to marry Mr. Riviera, but at least I should maintain some standards after death.

Mr. Riviera is beyond wealthy, yet his thinking is so narrow. Who kills poor innocent lives in such eerie and haunting woods when you've a sparkly dazzling mansion?

At the very least, take my life in your expensive luxury car. After death, at least there would be some satisfaction, knowing that even I left my blood stains behind. Bonus—in his pristine car.

An eye for an eye.

Now that I wreck my brain, it's actually—Kill two birds with one stone—opportunity.

Except I'll be killed too.

But they say the truth—the more money, the smaller the heart and—

Rex Riviera has no heart to speak of.

He's devoid of any trace of empathy and compassion.

There won't even be a stone in his chest. After much contemplation, I believe rivers of blood flow within him. The amount of blood he'd spill in my room every night, more than enough to drown us both, suggests that.

My train of life-saving thoughts shattered as the car came to a sudden halt, jerking us both forward. Another forceful tug slammed me back against the headrest aggressively, eliciting another painful cry from my throat.