The Billionaire's Sweet Wife

Getting Through It All

In the weeks that followed her mother's passing, Zoey found herself enveloped in a shroud of sorrow. The grandeur of the Blackwood estate, once a symbol of her new life, now seemed to mock her with its sprawling emptiness. Dante's presence, or rather his absence, was like a ghostly chill that permeated the air, his indifference to her grief a silent, biting frost.

Her brothers, bound by the unyielding schedules of school examinations, could not come to bid their mother farewell. It was a bitter pill for Zoey to swallow, knowing that they were alone in their own grief, separated by miles and circumstance.

The funeral was a somber affair, the grey skies above mirroring the turmoil within Zoey's heart. She stood by the graveside, a solitary figure clad in black, her face the very picture of stoic mourning. Dante was there, of course, his handsome features set in a mask of appropriate solemnity. But his eyes were distant, his thoughts elsewhere, and when he offered his arm to her, it was a gesture empty of warmth.

As the days turned into weeks, Zoey threw herself into her work with a fervor born of desperation. The Queen's Version 2 became her refuge, a world where she could lose herself in lines and colors, in the soft drape of fabric and the quiet hum of the sewing machine. It was a world away from the cold bed she returned to each night, away from the echoing silence of the house that never quite felt like home.

Dante's comings and goings were as unpredictable as the autumn weather, his interactions with Zoey as brief and perfunctory as the changing of the guards. She learned to read the signs of his moods, to navigate the icy corridors of their marriage with a quiet grace that belied the chaos of her inner world and through it all Mia was right by her side.

In the stillness of the night, when the vast house settled into silence, Zoey would allow herself the luxury of tears. They were silent sobs, wracking her body in the darkness, the only witness to her pain the moon that watched through the window.

But with each dawn, she rose again, her face set in determination. She would fulfill her promise to her mother, to protect her brothers, to be the strength they needed. And she would endure Dante's coldness, for she was a Blackwood now, and she would not let the legacy of her name be tarnished by despair.

Zoey's journey through grief was a quiet battle, fought in the shadows of her heart. But it was a battle she was determined to win, with or without Dante by her side.