Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Prologue

***
"Nate? Is that you, love?" I called out from the top of the stairs, staring wide-eyed at the tall silhouette casted on the ground. The first floor was pitch black beside a single square in the ground that was dimly lit caused by the large window that covered the wall from the second floor to the first, exposing a full moon.

The silhouette shifted to the side and stayed silent. Please be Nathaniel and not Moonlight man. I shivered at the thought of moonlight man and given the full moon it would be appropriate. Ever since watching "Gerald's Game" I've been terrified of being alone in the dark, I even forced Nathaniel to buy nightlights for even single corner of the house but for some reason they seemed to be off. 

I took a breath and against all my internal self's wishes, I began to walk down the flight of stairs that led to the shadow, grabbing Nathaniel's shoe as I walked by as it was the only thing near me. Great, just great. Walk towards the big scary figure in an empty house lily, and with only a shoe to defend yourself! What can possibly go wrong? If this is how I go out I swear i'm telling everyone in heaven it was a close fight.

As I neared the last step Nathaniel's back came into view and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in. It was surely past midnight and he must have just gotten home.

"Why?" He muttered to himself, like if he was having a conversation with himself. Then he repeated it once more a little louder, no longer towards himself.

He turned around revealing his bloodshot eyes along with a small gash on his cheekbone and nose that were still oozing blood. I gasped and took a couple steps forward extending my hand towards his face.

He remained still, the smell of alcohol was pungent as I got near. He's drunk, he never drinks.

"Nathaniel," I whispered softly, he was now a few inches in-front of me. I softly held the side of his face and turned it both directions inspecting for any more wounds. Luckily there wasn't anymore and the ones he had looked minor. He jerked his face out of my grasp and took a step back. "I'm fie, don' touch e" ," he slurred.

"Please let me clean those Nate," I responded softly, grabbing his arm in attempt to lead him to the restroom where the first aid kit was. This wasn't my first rodeo, but it was the first one in years. Something seriously bad must have happened.

"No," he yelled removing his arm from my hold.

"Nate, what's wrong?"

"Why? Why did you sleep with him?" He asked glaring at me, clenching his fist so tight his knuckles were starting to turn white from loss of blood circulation.

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?" This must be a joke he was pulling, but his demeanor and tone said otherwise.

"Oh cut the crap Lillian, I know you did it! Why are you lying to my face!" He scoffed looking at me with pure disgust. What the hell is happening right now.

"I'm not lying to you, I don't even know what you're talking about for crying out loud!" I shouted at him, anger boiling inside of me.

He has the nerve to show up drunk off his face in the middle of the night after I spent the last couple hours worrying because he hadn't responded in hours. To top it all off he's loosely throwing accusations at me for something and he wont even tell me what.

"I want a divorce. I don't want to see you. I don't to hear from you. I don't want you anywhere near me. God, I don't even want to look at you! You disgust me." He spat, taking a swig at the bottle of alcohol in his hand that I hadn't noticed before.

"W-what?" I stuttered, feeling the anger vanish and replaced with a stinging ache. I felt like I had just been stabbed in the chest hundreds of times, all at once. He doesn't mean it.