Page 149 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Don’t cry. Not here. Not until you’re alone.

I flag down a cab, sliding into the back seat before anyone from Dom’s security team can change their mind and try to stop me.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asks.

I give him my address in Queens, then slump against the seat as the cab pulls away from the curb.

Away from Dom and his brother and the shattered remains of whatever I thought we had.

So it happened. I’ve been heartbroken. Again. Jilted at the altar once more.

I laugh softly, the sound hollow in the quiet cab.

Jilted at theannulment, I suppose. I got a bit farther than the altar this time.

Looks like I’ll be breaking out the ice cream pails again. Rocky Road, honey.

The cab weaves through Manhattan traffic, carrying me back to my old life. Back to being just Tatiana Cole, personal assistant. Back to a world where billionaires don’t marry you in Vegas, where brothers don’t trade you like baseball cards, where hearts don’t break quite so spectacularly.

The tears finally come, hot and silent, trailing down my cheeks as the city lights blur outside the window.

Tomorrow I’ll head over to the office of Dom’s lawyers early in the morning, and I’ll sign the annulment papers without hesitation.

Tomorrow I’ll go back to work for Christopher, and I’ll never mention these thirty days to anyone.

Tomorrow I’ll forget Dominic Rossi.

40

Dominic

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Those are the first words I hear when Tatiana storms out. They come from my brother, and they cut through the silence like a blade.

“Are you happy now?” I ask, my voice hollow.

Nico laughs, the sound brittle and cold. “Happy? No, Dom. I’m not happy. But I am... satisfied.” He takes a sip of his wine, savoring it like he’s savoring my pain. “She’s quite something. Smart. Beautiful. Loyal.” He emphasizes that last word, twisting the knife. “You could have warned me she’d be so spirited.”

I can’t look at him. Can’t stand the sight of his face, of the scars that are my constant reminder. Instead, I stare at Tatiana’s empty chair, still warm from her body.

“This was a mistake,” I say.

“No shit.” Nico sets down his glass. “But what’s done is done. You said you owed me. Consider the debt paid. Well, there’s still the little matter of your financial debt. But we can talk about that another time. Two million, baby.” He stands, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll put it on your tab.”

He walks out without another word, leaving me alone with the ruins of my life.

Jake appears at the entrance to the private room, his expression carefully neutral. “Boss?”

I’m barely aware of responding, of following him and Nichols outside to where Ric waits with the car. I slide into the backseat, feeling nothing but the hollowness expanding in my chest.

“Where to, sir?” Ric asks.

Home. But the penthouse isn’t home. Not anymore. Not without her.

“The penthouse,” I say, because where the fuck else would I go?

The drive passes in a blur. Manhattan’s lights streak past, illuminating a world that suddenly feels empty.

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