BILLIONAIRES: Father or Son

Chapter Four

FLORA'S POV

"What the fuck!"

Jayden's voice sliced through my sleep like a sharp blade, jarring me awake, but I kept my eyes closed, hoping if I stayed still long enough, he would go away. But he started tapping my leg, each tap more insistent than the last. With a sigh, I finally opened my eyes and met his gaze—his face was a mix of fury and disbelief.

"You're still sleeping?" His tone was harsh, almost accusatory, like I had committed some great crime by daring to stay in bed by this time.

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled, rolling over and burying my face into the pillow. "What is it, Jay?" I asked, even though I knew exactly why he was waking me up.

"You should be awake, picking out my outfit for work." His words were clipped, the frustration evident. "I told you I've got an important meeting today, Flora."

I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. I knew what I was about to say wouldn't go over well, but I was done letting it slide. "You didn't tell me anything," I replied softly, but firmly. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up, bracing myself.

Jayden, apparently blissfully unaware of my emotional countdown, walked over to the vanity to brush his hair, like this was some routine argument. "I shouldn't have to tell you," he snapped between strokes. "You just know these things. You've got a sixth sense of color and style. You know how I always bag the best-dressed male entrepreneur at those Galaxy shows? People expect me to look the part."

Ah yes, the Galaxy shows—where shallow egos compete for shallow accolades. The best-dressed male entrepreneur award? What a goal.

When I didn't immediately jump to do his bidding like a 1950s housewife, he finally turned around, concern slowly knitting his brows together. For the first time that morning, he seemed to notice something was... off. He crossed the room toward me, his voice suddenly softer, tinged with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes searching my face.

I inhaled sharply, mentally gearing up for what was about to come. "I don't want to pick out your clothes anymore, Jayden," I said it simply, but it was like tossing a grenade. "I don't want to cook for you and your family for free either."

His face contorted in disbelief. "What... what are you talking about? Oh, God, don't tell me this is about that whole Melissa thing again. I told you not to get worked up about that. It was nothing—just a stupid little incident."

I clenched my fists, forcing down the swell of emotion that rose in my throat. "It's not about Melissa anymore, Jayden." My voice wavered, but I pressed on. "You two are perfect for each other, honestly." I blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Jayden crouched down in front of me, his tone softening, almost pleading. "Flora, what's going on? Talk to me. What is all this about?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. "It's about what I came to your office to tell you yesterday. But instead of listening, you humiliated me."

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. "You humiliated yourself, Flora. You barged into my office like a mad woman, attacking a business associate in front of everyone because of a little mistake. We've worked too hard to build a reputation, and you almost threw it all away because of some childish jealousy. You can't just... I don't know... air our dirty laundry in public. We need to work together, not against each other!"

I stared at him, disbelief flooding my system. "Work together? Jay, you believed your ex over me. You always do. And the worst part? You didn't even care that I showed up at your office for a reason. And now, you're telling me we need to 'work together'? I'm done being your personal assistant, cook, stylist, and—oh yeah—doormat. I'm done being your family's unpaid maid."

Jayden's anger flared like a match in a gas tank. "Flora, stop. You're throwing a tantrum, and I don't have time for this." He glared at me as though I was ruining his perfectly curated day. "Whatever it is, you could've told me at home."

I stared down at my hands, my heart racing, my fingers trembling. But I was ready. "I want a divorce."

For a second, he froze, like someone had just hit the pause button on his brain. "You want a what?"

I bit my lip, the words bubbling up. But this time, I didn't whisper. I looked straight at him, all the hesitation gone. "Divorce, Jayden. I want a divorce." The word tasted strange on my tongue, but it was also liberating, like I had just handed back the keys to a prison cell. "That was what I came to say yesterday."

He blinked, shaking his head like he could somehow erase what he had heard. "You're not serious. Flora, this is about Melissa, isn't it? Why are you blowing this out of proportion? I told you, it's nothing."

I couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of me, a sharp, disbelieving sound that echoed through the room. "It's hilarious how you think I can just sweep that under the rug and pretend it didn't happen. But, Jayden, that's not even the biggest reason I'm asking for this divorce. I mean, it's not like anyone even knows we're married in the first place. I'm doing you a favor, really. Consider yourself officially unshackled. No need to worry about me dragging your precious family name through the mud anymore."

Jayden came closer, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to sniff out some hidden clue. I blinked, leaning back. "What are you doing?" I asked, baffled.

He tilted his head, squinting at me. "Did you get drunk last night?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "What? You think I can't dump you while stone-cold sober?"

Before he could come up with one of his signature condescending comebacks, his phone rang. He grabbed it off the dresser, listened in silence for a moment, then said, "I'll be right there."

I let out a long, slow exhale, already knowing where this was headed. Jayden was going to do what he always did—sweep this whole conversation under the rug like it was just a minor inconvenience, something he would deal with later, maybe, when it didn't clash with his work schedule.

He turned back to me, his expression carefully neutral. "Flora, take a breath and think long and hard about what you're saying. Take the day off. Rest. Really consider what you'll be losing if you go through with this—" He waved a hand vaguely in the air, as if 'this' was some trivial hobby I would soon tire of. "The luxury, the benefits, the name. Trust me, you don't mean what you're saying right now."

I raised my eyebrows, unimpressed, and pointed to the nightstand. "I meant every word, Jay. That's the wedding ring. I took it off last night. You didn't even notice."

For the first time, a flicker of something crossed his face—was that surprise? Maybe even panic? Hard to say. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. With a huff, he marched over to the closet, rifled through his clothes, and pulled out an outfit. He started changing in record time, throwing his shirt and jacket on as if speed-dressing was part of his morning workout.

"My meeting starts soon," he said, his tone businesslike as ever. "I can't be late. We'll talk about this when I get back from work. You're just stressed. And you know what they say: you don't make impulsive decisions when you're stressed or mad." He shot me a smug look. "Take it from a businessman."

I didn't respond. What was the point? My mind was already made up, and nothing he said—or didn't say—was going to change that. I had been wanting out for a long time. I just hadn't found the courage to voice it until now. But I had to do this, if not for me, then for our child. I wasn't about to let my mistakes condemn my kid to a loveless marriage like this one.

What really threw me, though, was that I expected Jayden to jump at the chance for a divorce. I mean, the man hadn't shown even a flicker of affection since the wedding. I thought this was what he wanted—freedom from me, from this whole charade. So why was he so against it now?

Jayden finished dressing and then did something that completely caught me off guard. He walked over to me, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. It was so out of character that I sat there frozen, unsure of what to make of it.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, alright?" he murmured. "Think about this. You don't want it."

And with that, he was gone, out the door like a flash of lightning.