Bought by the Billionaire: Getting revenge on my Ex.

Selene's Point of View

“I love you more than I fear death, Selene,” he'd whispered into my ears the night he found my pathetic self on the bustling streets of New York, his grip tightening around my arms. I felt his breath grace my body, goosebumps crawling across it.

Damian has been nothing but perfection. He was everything I needed, and he never ceased to tell me how much he loved me, how much he cared for me. I guess I was the luckiest girl in New York.

Tonight, I was going to give him my all. Today was our wedding anniversary and, surprisingly, his birthday. He has given me the best, and I was willing to give him my best.

I sat in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection on the silver-coated mirror. I looked different. Better than I was. The eye bags beneath my eyes were gone, and my flawed skin was made flawless.

The evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over my delicate skin, the silk gown draping across the bed. I slipped into the dress, the dress wrapping around me like a second skin. I fastened the pearl buttons along my spine, each one reminding me of his gentle touch.

I styled my hair into a ponytail, letting some loose strands sit on my face. Stretching my hand across the nightstand, I grabbed the necklace he'd given me in the morning, the heart-shaped pendant resting on my chest.

A warm smile crept across my lips, a sigh escaping my lips. I stole a glance at myself, my shoulders shrugging.

“I hope he likes this,” I muttered to myself, walking out of the room with unparalleled confidence.

The city was alive at night, bustling with activities as I stepped out, the cool air brushing against my skin. I hailed an Uber and slipped into the passenger seat.

I couldn't help but feel tense, afraid of what the night would hold. Everything was arranged—the bed was filled with roses, and candles were arranged in a heart shape. I'd fixed dinner at the Twilight Toast restaurant, but I couldn't help but feel something was missing.

I brushed the thoughts aside, taking a deep breath and calming my nerves. After what seemed like an eternity on the road, the cab pulled up at the restaurant. I paid the driver and walked in.

The scent of roasted chicken and lobster filled the air, my stomach growling, acknowledging the mouthwatering scents. I walked over to an empty table, ordering a glass of champagne.

“Thank you,” I said to the waitress with a smile.

After a while, I stole a glance at my watch. Damian was thirty minutes behind time. I couldn't help but get worried. He'd always lectured me about keeping up with time. Why was today different?

Maybe he was stuck in traffic. New York's traffic was always hectic, especially on New Year's Eve. An hour later, I felt panic clawing at the edge of my chest. I shifted uncomfortably on my chair.

I yanked out my phone from my purse, my fingers hovering around the screen as I dialed his digits.

“Pick up, Damian!” I said, my voice tinged with frustration.

I tried his number over and over again, but it was unreachable. Where the hell would he be? Sweat trickled down my temples, my breathing coming in short, haggard gasps as I stood. I needed to go home. Maybe he'd forgotten what today meant and how important it was in our lives.

I paid for the champagne and walked out of the restaurant. I wasn't going to hold grudges against him for not showing up. He might have gotten exhausted and laid on the couch, just as he always does. Well, that wasn't going to deter me from spoiling him.

On the way home, I stopped at a flower shop and bought a bouquet of red roses and a bottle of champagne. Tonight was going to be perfect.

The car pulled up at the mansion, and I walked out, forcing my way into it. The door was slightly ajar, which suggested that he was home.

I steadied my breathing, walking right into it. My eyes darted around the quiet house. Surprisingly, he wasn't on the couch either. I tried to come up with a possible explanation for his absence, but my mind was blank.

Then, I heard a noise.

A soft gasp, almost like a whimper, almost… begging. Listening closely, I figured out it was coming from our bedroom.

“Damian?” I called, my grip tightening around the champagne. As expected, I got no reply.

Slowly yet deliberately, I walked towards the source of the sound, trying hard not to make a sound.

“Fuck!” a voice groaned, the sound propelling me forward.

No, Damian wouldn't cheat on me. He wouldn't dare think of it. Everything had an explanation. Maybe he was watching a movie. The thought did little to convince me. It lacked the conviction I needed.

My heartbeat increased, threatening to break through my ribcage.

“D… Damian,” a feminine voice moaned.

My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, my lips quivering. Gathering the last strength left in me, I yanked open the door, the hinges creaking.

My jaw dropped, my eyes widening in horror as I watched Damian kiss her feverishly, like his life depended on it. The sounds turned muffled, my vision blurring.

I stood motionless, my presence unnoticed as they were lost in their world of fantasy. A hot sting was felt in my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. This couldn't be happening.

I was hallucinating. Yes, that was a word that could explain what I was staring at. I rubbed my eyes with my palm, but the vision came clearer.

My heart sank, the bouquet falling on the floor, its petals scattering. I tried to speak, but my throat tightened, preventing the words from escaping.

“Damian?!” I called.

He paused for a while, his back still facing me.

“You… You…” I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat.

He whirled around, breaking free from her, his eyes locking with mine. He had a stoic expression, his face devoid of any remorse. He looked like he'd wanted to do this for long, and I'd been his only hindrance.

“And she's home,” he muttered with a sly grin, his voice dripping with mockery.

I felt my knees buckle beneath me, threatening to collapse.

“Evelyn, meet my ex-wife… Selene,” he introduced.

Ex? I stumbled backward, my back hitting the wall. I tried to make out the words he said, but they made no sense. None of it made sense.

“Damian, I… I…” I stammered, my words faltering.

“Save the speech, Selene. I don't see myself spending the rest of my goddamn life with a worthless soul like you,” he stated, his steps mechanical as he walked to the drawer.

My gaze lingered on his skin, his fingers rummaging through the drawer. The room was dimly lit by the candles I'd arranged before walking out to the restaurant. All I could make out was his masculine figure moving freely without a care.

He walked closer to me, extending his hand.

“Have it. This is the divorce letter. Get the fuck out of my life and never return,” he paused, letting the words sink into my dumb skull.

“This right there,” he continued, pointing at the bed.

A feminine physique rose with poised elegance, walking towards me, her steps calculated. She strode gracefully to me, and my eyes widened in horror as I caught a glimpse of her face.

“Is your replacement… Now, leave!”

The betrayal punched straight into my gut. He didn't just cheat on me—he cheated on me with my best friend!

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she whispered,

“Hello… Selene.”