Billionaire's Bounty Cost Of Love And Revenge novel Chapter 9

Ivy’s POV

I ran my fingers through the tangled mess of hair on my head as I descended the stairs, I was wearing a black crop top and beige wide–legged pants. I stood at the entrance of the dining area where my parents were already seated, and servants dressed in formal black and white attire hurried in and out, laying the table.

I watched them silently for a moment. My father, a tall man with a lanky build and curly dark hair, was dressed in a flowery shirt and casual slacks. His eyes, a lighter shade of blue, were fixated on my mother with an excited glint. She was all he saw.

“So I called my stylist, and I told her, there’s no way you’re, delaying my appointment. I have plans fixed, and I’ll be leaving the country soon…”

Oh. They had yet another trip, one they hadn’t told me about. I wondered what it was for. Probably nothing important. In all the years I’d known my parents, one thing I learned is they never needed a reason to do anything. They were always impulsive. I’d wake up in the mornings to find them gone, trips that lasted weeks and sometimes months.

She patted her head, her beautiful brunette hair bouncing, and my mother continued, “I told her, you can’t have me looking like a mess on my vacation…”

“You look like a hot mess though,” my dad chirped in.

She giggled like a child.

I almost gagged. It didn’t matter how long I had lived with them, watching them act like this–it was always cringe–worthy.

I entered the dining area and pulled out a chair across from them. As usual, they didn’t notice me or they were too engrossed in their conversation to acknowledge me.

My mother playfully swatted his arm. “I know that honey, but really, I’m overdue for a haircut.”

I noticed she was wearing a flower–patterned dress like my father. It was corny, but it wasn’t the first time both of them would pull off something like that.

“You know, I love you the way you are,” he whispered tenderly.

She smiled, “Do you love me as before?”

“Always…” he gave her a flirtatious smile.

I turned my attention to my food–grilled filet mignon and roasted vegetables on the side–and began eating without saying a word to my parents.

They talked for a while, and at some point, I had to zone out of their conversation.

Until my mother tapped my father’s arm excitedly, “Oh, have I told you the story about the time I got my first bangs and they were ridiculously short?”

“Hmm, tell me all about it,” he responded, with his hand resting under his chin.

I rolled my eyes so hard they could’ve gotten stuck. “You’ve told that story only like a thousand times.” It was ridiculous at this point. I had to butt in. “And Dad, you remember it. I swear you could narrate it word for word.”

My mom turned to look at me and said, “Someone’s cranky.” She teased.

1/3

8:16 pm DDXX.

Chapter 9

“And I never get bored of listening to your mother tell it,” he said.

I couldn’t lie. Their love was the kind I envied. I teased them so much about it, all day, every time, but deep down, I wanted it. A love so intense that everything else around it faded away, sadly, that included me. I was always in the background. And maybe it was all the more reason my heart wanted that kind of love, yearned for it. I stared at them as they fed each other the first bite of their food, which was probably cold now from all the time they spent talking. Yet when they both ate it, they acted like it was the best meal they had ever had.

It was why I had stayed with Max, despite all the glaring signs. Deep down, I knew he didn’t measure up. My parents‘ love has always been the standard. At some point, I thought it was such a high standard, and so I stayed even though I knew Max didn’t look at me like my parents looked at each other, I stayed put even though he never did anything for me.

My grip tightened around my fork as I tried to fight back tears. I wondered if my parents noticed. As expected, no. They were lost in their little world. How could they know that last weekend, I had my heart broken by my boyfriend, was betrayed by my friend, and was now married to a stranger?

Oddly, he felt like anything else but a stranger. When he looked at me with those intense eyes, it was like he was staring into my soul, like he knew a part of me that I didn’t. It felt deeper. It was nothing like the way Max looked at me. Max’s words never made my heart race. Yet every word Asher spoke to me seemed to do something to my body. It was funny because all he ever did was annoy me in the past.

My mother’s soft laughter pulled me from my thoughts. “No, honestly, the last piece was bizarre. I already have enough paintings of me from you…”

My breath caught in my throat as my thoughts drifted to the art pieces hanging on the wall of his bedroom.

My father smiled before replying, “You know what, I’m inspired to do another one of you, it’s going to be even more…”

“Shh,” she giggled and put her hand over his mouth.

The art, the art that reminded me so much of ME! Which was absurd. It couldn’t be, right? There was no way Asher Sterling hung art pieces of me and him, our bodies entwined in every sexual position known to man over his bed. He was the annoying boy who never passed up a chance to annoy me. That was it. And I wanted to believe that. Yet there were moments where he left me confused, like when he made his vows. For a tiny moment there, I thought to myself. This must be what my parents have. There were also moments like yesterday when I caught a part of his conversation with his friend where he said what we had was nothing serious. He was blowing hot and cold, and I was married to this man. I was married.

“I got married,” I blurted out.

My parents turned their attention to me.

My dad gave me a quizzical look, “Huh?”

I stole one glance at them and averted my gaze, “I got married over the weekend,” I said in a much smaller voice,

“Ivy, if you’re trying to get our attention, you have it now.”

Her words stung a little. As a child, I’d made up stories just to keep them from leaving on their trips. But not this time.

“No, Mum. This isn’t one of my attention–seeking stories,” my tone was sharp and cutting, “I did get married.”

My dad let his cutlery fall, making a loud noise as it hit the plate, “Don’t tell me it’s to that nobody, Max. He is no good for you.”

I almost smiled. My father never liked Max, and he was always vocal about it. “No.”

He sighed in relief, and then it was slowly replaced by alarm, “Who did you get married to then?”

2/3

8:17 pm DD XX.

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