Page 27 of Her Irresistible Husband

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

The mechanical sound is so at odds with the intimacy we just shared that it makes my stomach clench with unease.

I turn my head slowly, my neck still feeling boneless, and see Wynd signing contracts with the same elegant precision he brings to everything else. His wheat-gold hair is perfectly in place, his charcoal suit unwrinkled, his expression coolly professional as if he hadn't just made me fall apart with his fingers.

It's as if the Wynd in the past half hour was a mere fantasy.

And I'm just imagining the fact that he still has my panties in his jacket pocket.

Hehasto know I'm looking at him now, but he's acting like I don't exist at all.

I don't understand.

The automated blinds are still up, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a clear view of our corner of the boardroom to anyone walking past. But now, instead of the dangerous thrillof potential exposure, the transparency just makes me feel exposed.

It's like I'm sitting here in the aftermath of something life-altering...while the billionaire seated next to me is acting like this is all just business as usual.

The air between us continues crackling like a live wire, but Wynd still refuses to acknowledge my existence.

Why?

More painful cramps seize my stomach as I remember a conversation we had once. About my girly feelings and his instincts zeroing in on the same thing. About how we both wanted Samuel. About how this could work between us.

But looking at him now—at the rigid set of his shoulders and the deliberate way he's avoiding my gaze—I'm starting to think I was wrong about everything.

"W-Wynd?"

His pen never stops moving across the paper.

"I'm going to pay the full fee of this contract—" Wynd doesn't look at me as he delivers the words, and his voice is cold and impersonal. It's as if we're total strangers, and he's not the same man who demanded my surrender just minutes ago.

Why won't he look at me?

"But you don't have to do anything." He sets down one document and picks up another, his movements efficient and final. "Consider it...a termination fee."

The room around me actually spins, and I find myself struggling to breathe.

Breathe, Star, Breathe!

I feel like throwing up. And slapping his face. But because I also remember that hurt people hurt people...

"C-Can you tell me why at least? W-Why are you doing this?"

The question hangs in the air between us, fragile and desperate. The scratch of his pen stops abruptly, and my heart slowly breaks at the taut silence that follows.

Why is this happening?

He slowly places his pen down on the polished oak table, but the soft click of metal against wood still rattles me, the tension gripping my body is so great that I feel like I'm about to fall into pieces any moment.

"My parents always said they loved each other." Wynd speaks tonelessly, but it's impossible not to hear the jagged edges of childhood trauma underscoring every word.

"And maybe they did. Only the two of them would really have known. But what I'm certain of is what happened afterward. When my father lost his business, my mother realized she loved money more. So she left him.Us."

His fingers flex against the table, his face hardening as if he still needs to protect himself from the past, even with all the years that have already gone by.

"My father...couldn't take it."

Oh God, no.

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