The Billionaire's Bride [ Rewritten]

Part 21 | Confession of the hearts

The moment the heavy double doors opened, my eyes swept past the opulent ballroom, completely bypassing the flashing cameras desperate to capture.

I envy men who get to leave work, go home unnoticed, step out of the spotlight and spend quiet evenings with the women they love. No cameras. No headlines. No exhausting obligation to always look untouchable.

I never thought I'd crave an ordinary life, not until I imagined living it with her.

To my irritation, Sarah nudged at my elbow, whispering a sharp reminder to pose for the cameras. I ignored her. Let them take their photos; I couldn't care less. Tonight, the media circus meant absolutely nothing to me.

My gaze kept searching, desperate for just one person.

My wife.

The word came easily, like second nature now-a habit I didn't remember forming. A stark reminder of how I was dismantling the boundaries I had carefully built.

When I drew up the papers and proposed this marriage, I was determined to keep it exactly what it was-an arrangement. A mutually beneficial deal with clear exits, no feelings, no complications, and no messy aftermath.

But Switzerland had changed everything.

Ever since the trip, my entire existence had felt like an un-steady ripple in troubled water. For the first time in my life, the absolute certainty I usually carried had vanished. As a businessman, I was paid to make ruthless, calculated decisions. Right or wrong, I never second-guessed myself. But this time, the cold logic of my mind was completely useless against the unfamiliar, terrifying pull of my heart.

It had taken six days of agonizing distance to finally clear the fog. Six days to realize what I truly yearned for, what I needed, and exactly where my feelings were leading me.

To Naira.

No woman had ever held this kind of power over me. It didn't take designer gowns or perfect styling to catch my eye; she had my entire attention just standing there in a messy bun and pajamas. Nothing had ever made me forget to breathe quite like the sound of her laughter. For a man who never lost control, it scared me how easily she could strip it away with a single kiss. Now, the mere thought of waking up in an empty bed without her in my arms felt like a punishment.

I had never felt anything like this before. It was terrifying, consuming, and absolutely undeniable.

She has become my habit. My favourite one.

My gaze finally locked onto her across the crowded room, my heart hammered violently against my ribs. There she was.

She looked like a vision carved from rubies and starlight. The deep, wine-red gown clung to her in all the right places, flowing down into layers of frothy tulle that seemed to float around her like a dark cloud. The dress was a masterpiece, but I barely noticed the silk; I was too busy devouring the way the rich color made her skin look like cream, the way the halter neckline highlighted the elegant slope of her shoulders.