The Billion Dollar Affair [#7]

Prologue

"Olivia Devereux, tell me what the fuck this is."

Olivia glanced up at her husband through hooded gray eyes and twisted a lock of auburn hair around her index finger. "You tell me, baby."

"You're not getting a goddamn divorce," he snarled, tearing up the files in his hands.

She rolled her eyes.

"Come here," he demanded.

But she stood her ground and kept a steady gaze on him. "You really think you can force me to stay?"

His hazel eyes darkened. He was almost enraged, but the admiration he held for his wife overpowered any anger he could feel. "Why won't you talk to me, belle?"

"I've tried," she said, casually shrugging. She was impassive, almost emotionless. "You don't listen."

He took the chair across from her at the dinner table and took her hand in his. "I'm listening, Olive."

"Where do I even start?"

"Anywhere. We'll get to the root of our problems."

"I love our babies," she started, sighing. "And I love you very much. But why do you love me?"

His lips lifted into a smile. It was more of a smirk, but obviously he was amused by his wife. "How do you tell the woman you love more than life itself why you love her more than life? How do you begin to explain that even after six years of marriage and three kids your feelings are unchanged from the moment you've laid eyes on her? It's nearly impossible, and if I could form the words to keep you from leaving me, I'd do it."

"We only married because I was pregnant," she reminded him. Tears were in her eyes, and it was hard to hold the sobs in. Even to this day, her husband knew exactly what to say to make her heart skip a million beats out of her chest. "I never got the chance to love you the way I wanted. I never had adventure."

He hummed in acknowledgment. "Tell me what you mean, baby, so I can understand."

"I want to always feel like I'm falling in love with you for the first time. I want to always feel like we're still trying to earn each other."

"You have earned me, Olive. How can I earn you?"

"I don't know."

He sighed, dragged a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. "I love you dearly. I've given you my name, my kids, my home, my heart and me. Is there anything else I can give you to keep you happy?"

"A love story," she said. She humorlessly laughed. "Serena and Theo have one out of a fairy tale. Isaac and Athena... well, they're Isaac and Athena."

Tristan couldn't help but chuckle. "Is that what it is? You want a fairy tale love?"

"And some great sex."

"I thought I was giving you that."

There was a spark in her eyes that could have either been disappointment or lust. Tristan knew it was both in that moment. "I need more than just fifteen minutes every Friday night."

"It used to be everyday."

She nodded, as if she could remember every sexual encounter from the moment they met to this very one now. "I want the thrill of possibly getting caught. I want to be fucked, Tristan. This is the first night we're alone in this house in weeks, and you haven't even tried to fuck me."

He stood, walked over to her, and pulled her against the erection in his pants, teasing her erected nipple beneath her thin t-shirt. "You didn't think I would bend you over and fuck you anywhere I'd like? You want a fairy tale love story? Start with this, baby. I fall in love with the same woman every single day, and she is a reminder why I'm still breathing. She is the reason why I'm where I am today. She is the mother of my beautiful children, and she loves me despite all the times I fuck up. Is that good enough for you?"

Olivia smirked, but he couldn't see her, so she said, "No."

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrapped it around his hand, tugging it back as he bent her over the dining room table. "Sometimes I forget that my lovely wife needs actions to go with these words."

She moaned when he tugged her shorts down and pushed his fingers into her two at a time. "Tristan..."

"Already so fucking wet," he murmured. He withdrew from her and shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking the juices from her. "Get out of those clothes."

She hastily pulled her shirt over her head and stepped out of her shorts.

But Tristan shook his head. "Everything goes."

She unhooked her bra, let it fall down her arms and onto the carpet. "And my panties?"

"I said everything, sweetheart."

She slid out of the silk fabric of her panties and stood naked before her husband. No matter how long they'd been married and together, she was too modest, so she crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself. "Now what?"

He unfolded her arms, cupped her chin and brought her in for a kiss on the lips. "We're too good to give up. A divorce would only hurt us, so next time, I will just listen."

"Promise?"

He smiled. "I promise you, belle."

Hands snaked around Olivia's waist, and lips fell into her hair as she stood with the man she loved. She couldn't imagine leaving her husband. All she could do was test the waters of his love, and he had proven that he wouldn't give up on them. It was a selfish act to file for divorce on her part, but she got exactly what she wanted.

Tristan Devereux.