The Arrogant Billionaire's Redemption

April 2017

It was my wedding. Mine. The day I had dreamed of, prayed for, counted down to with anticipation and dread alike. My wedding. Yet where was my husband?

I stood at the altar, the center of a carefully constructed world of roses, lace, and polished glass, but the groom's side remained empty. I had been there for hours-first with confidence, then with stubbornness, and finally with something close to desperation-while Simon, my husband-to-be, was nowhere to be found.

Mrs. Alicia, my mother-in-law, had excused herself time and again. Each time her heels clicked against the marble floor as she hurried outside. And each time, she returned without him. My heart sank deeper into itself with each failure, but still, the smile on my face remained. It gleamed with a brilliance to rival the sunlight pouring through the stained-glass windows.

I had painted myself into this picture. The gown clung to me in delicate folds of satin, the veil shimmered when it caught the light, and my face bore the practiced expression of a bride ready to begin her happily-ever-after. I refused to let anything ruin it. Not his absence, not the pain slicing through my calves from the six-inch heels, not the whispers rippling through the crowd.

The whispers, though-they grew. At first, they were small murmurs, contained, the kind that could still be explained away as harmless curiosity. But as minutes bled into hours, their grimaces turned into bold glances, and the whispers became undeniable conversations.

The only thing keeping the guests in their seats was the name they had come to witness bound to mine. Simon Valero.

I dared a glance toward where my parents sat, dressed in their finest. Their smiles looked unbothered, as if none of this chaos mattered. Their calmness should have reassured me, but instead, bile rose in my throat. My stomach churned violently, and my smile faltered for the briefest moment.

It returned, plastered and unyielding. Because I knew this was the last time I would see them-the last time I would feel that creeping unworthiness that always came with meeting their eyes. After today, I would no longer be a burden.

Another click of heels broke through the suffocating air. Alicia again. She left her place in the front row, phone clutched like a lifeline, her forehead creased with lines of worry etched so deeply they might never leave her face.

And my heart ached-not for myself, not for the embarrassment burning my cheeks under the scrutiny of guests, not for the heels threatening to shatter my bones-but for her.

Sweet Alicia. She who had shown me more tenderness in months than my own parents had in years. She who believed in this union so fiercely it was as though she wanted it more than I did. But it was her son-the one she loved and defended-who was the problem.

Simon. The man I was meant to promise forever to. The man who had treated me like a ghost from the very first moment we met. I remembered it vividly: the way his eyes slid past me as if I weren't worth a second look. And yet here I stood, bound to him by expectation, by family, by a mother's hope that her son only needed "time."

The doors of the church finally groaned open.

And there he was.

Simon Valero.

He strolled in without urgency, as though he hadn't kept us waiting for three hours. As though he hadn't abandoned me to whispers, humiliation, and silence. Yet the effect was immediate. Guests who had shifted uncomfortably in their seats straightened with reverence. Grimaces dissolved into awe, whispers into approving murmurs.

He commanded the room, and I, too, could not look away.

Even with the frown shadowing his lips, there was something about him-an air, a presence-that made my breath hitch. My eyes traced the sharp cut of his jaw, the cold fire in his gaze, and I found myself wondering. Wondering how he might look if those lips curved into a smile, if laughter softened the stone of his face, if warmth sparked in eyes that seemed built to freeze.

But I was left to wonder. He offered me no such gift. Only the frown. Only the distance.

And still, my heart leapt. Still, I clung to the hope of the man Alicia spoke of, the cheerful soul hidden beneath the ice. I told myself time would reveal him to me, peel back his walls, and one day he would be mine in truth.

The priest beckoned us forward, and the vows were read. I bound myself to him in words I meant with every fiber of my being, promising him all of me until death itself divided us.

Simon's voice followed, but it held no tenderness. He spoke the vows like a verdict, each word clipped, final, like shackles being locked.

Still, my excitement only grew.

The priest's words rang out: "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

My joy bubbled over, unstoppable, and I turned to him eagerly. Our lips met in what should have been the sealing of our union-but the kiss was fleeting, perfunctory, and he pulled away almost instantly, grimacing as though the touch itself had burned him.

And yet-even that brief brush of his lips filled me with anticipation for the night to come.

We walked down the aisle together, hand in hand. Cameras flashed, guests applauded, and for a moment, I felt it. The warmth of belonging at his side, the way our hands fit together perfectly. The illusion of a future worth holding onto.

But the illusion shattered as soon as we stepped outside.

Before I could say a word, Simon slipped his hand from mine, slid into his sleek car, and drove away-leaving me standing there, a bride abandoned. My hand, still tingling from his touch, dropped limp at my side, heavy and cold.

And once again, it was Alicia who saved me. She appeared at my side, her voice calm, commanding, as she instructed her driver to take me to my new home. She saved my face, shielded me from scandal, as she always did.

The ride blurred by in a haze of nerves and stubborn optimism. I still wore the gown, the veil, the smile I refused to let die. My heart raced with the hope that once I reached him, he would finally let me in. That behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, I would see the softer side his mother promised.

I rushed through the halls of the Valero estate, still breathless, still carrying that fragile hope. I reached his room, hand trembling as I pushed open the door-

Only to be shoved back.

Simon's face was hard, his eyes unforgiving as he told me never to step foot in his room again. His voice was ice, his touch a push that sent me reeling.

Then he called for the maids.

And just like that, my husband-the man I had just promised myself to forever-walked away. Leaving me in their hands. Leaving me confused, unwanted, and above all, utterly alone.

October 2017

Tina's POV

I heard the sharp, angry footsteps of my mother-in-law marching down the corridor, each one echoing like a drumbeat of warning. A moment later came the jostle of a door slamming shut-my husband's study.

I couldn't hear the words, but I didn't need to. I knew her well enough to imagine her fury unleashed on him, probably yelling about the way he had treated me. I had tried to keep the truth from her, but how could I when my business-our business-was all over the news for the world to see?

My phone lay face-up on the bed, the glowing screen still open to the article that had drained me of whatever strength I had left. A sigh rolled through me, heavy and broken, as I stared at the headline in bold black print.

"Trouble in Paradise"

Under it was a picture of me, frozen mid-sob, my face blotched and damp. That was their cover story: my humiliation. The camera had been merciless. My head warmer, carelessly shoved over my hair that morning, hid the soft waves that usually fell in long cascades. My grey eyes, normally clear and bright, looked swollen and red-rimmed. My mouth twisted in misery. They had caught me at my lowest, and the image told the world exactly what they wanted it to: that I was broken, pitiful, unloved.

I remembered the day that photograph must have been taken. I had gone to Simon's office after failing to reach him at home, desperate for answers, desperate for him. I had left in tears, crushed by the only words he had bothered to give me-harsh, cold, unfeeling. That day, his voice had stripped me raw, and the camera had been there to devour what remained.

The headline mocked me. Paradise? There had never been a paradise to begin with. My marriage to Simon Valero was no haven, no safe place of warmth. It was a frozen wasteland, a desert of ice, and the only thing I ever knew from him was coldness.

I had thought many times about ending it, about freeing myself before the chill of his indifference seeped too deeply into me, freezing my soul past the point of melting. But every time, his mother begged me to stay.

And I always yielded.

I had a soft spot for Mrs. Alicia Valero. She had treated me like a daughter from the very first moment. Her love had been the brightest contrast to my own parents' apathy, and I had clung to it. She was the reason I married Simon at all. Despite the loveless prison my life had become because of her wishes, I couldn't bring myself to hate her.

She adored her son, wanted everything for him, believed the best of him-even when he gave me nothing. She had enticed me with her kindness, her promises that one day Simon would open his heart. And because I was starving for a family, for love, I had believed her.

A sharp sound tore me from my thoughts. A slap-loud and unmistakable-cracked from inside Simon's study. I jolted upright, the fluffy feel of my blanket sliding away as I hurried to intervene.

My footsteps carried me down the hall, my mind racing ahead of me. Should I try to placate Alicia, calm her down before things escalated? Or should I use this moment, finally, to demand answers from Simon with his mother standing at my side?

My hand hovered on the door handle, trembling, seconds away from pushing it open. But then his voice cut through the air, words so cold, so final, that they froze me in place.

"You know what, Mother? Sarah is coming back in two days, and the moment she's here I'm kicking Tina out of my life."

The breath rushed out of me as if he had punched me. I clutched the handle, my knuckles whitening, unable to move.

"I know it's the last thing you want to hear," he added, unflinching, "but we decided to give our love a second chance."

Something inside me shattered. I stumbled back, away from the door, away from the truth that had just branded itself into me. My heart felt like it had split clean in two, jagged edges tearing at my chest as tears welled fast and spilled down my cheeks.

To think he was capable of saying that. To think he wanted her. To think he would give another chance to the woman who had broken him, but not even a first chance to me.

The tears came hard, streaming in rivulets I couldn't stop as I staggered back toward my room.

I had heard of Sarah before. His ex. The maids had whispered about the storm their relationship had been-the fights, the shouting, the chaos that had ended in ruin. And yet, he wanted her again. He wanted her enough to throw me away like nothing.

Something must be wrong with me, I thought bitterly, shoving clothes into my bag with shaking hands. Why her? Why not me? Why couldn't he give me the chance to prove him wrong?

The wedding pictures on my bedside mocked me from the table, smiling versions of myself that looked like another woman altogether. I was beaming in those photographs. He was not. He looked stiff, detached, his eyes already elsewhere. With a sob, I slammed the frames face-down.

As the blur of tears thickened, I collapsed on my bed, pressing my face into the pillow to muffle the sound. Crying silently had been an art I had perfected in childhood. Loveless parents had taught me early that my tears were nothing but a nuisance, wasted salt water in a home where affection did not exist.

And now here I was again, tied to a man who was no different. Simon's love was not for me. It had never been for me.

My body shook with sobs, my chest heaving, my shoulders quaking. For the first time, my anger turned toward Alicia. Toward the woman who had pulled me into this life, who had promised me her son would change, who had smiled with such warmth I couldn't see the trap I was stepping into.

She should have left me alone. She should never have forced me into Simon's life. She promised he would open up. She lied.

Bitterness burned hot and sharp. She had disrupted her son's broken heart by shoving me into the frozen remains of it. And now I was left with nothing but shards.

I wiped my tears, my eyes swollen and sore. As always, crying changed nothing. All it left me with was a pounding headache and a raw throat.

"I need to take action," I whispered aloud, as if saying it would give me strength.

So I called my lawyer. My voice shook as I requested the papers, but I did it. Then I packed.

I packed only what I had brought into this house, leaving behind the lavish gifts Alicia had given me, leaving behind everything bought with the black card Simon had pressed into my hand as if it excused his neglect.

My fingers slid to my ring, circling the slim band that symbolized nothing but coldness. For a moment, I hesitated, relishing the icy smoothness of the diamond. But then I pulled it off, my heart heavy, and set it on the table beside the fallen wedding photographs.

One photograph was missing-I had stuffed it into my bag in a moment of weakness. Call me foolish, call me pathetic, but part of me still loved him, even knowing he loved another. I couldn't quite let go of the sham we had built together.

That night, I curled into a ball on top of my covers, my room still full, still furnished, but hollow to me now. I cried until sleep dragged me under. I knew the morning would bring a headache, but the tears would not stop.

Morning came with a hard edge. The divorce papers arrived, and with trembling hands I signed my name. A car engine growled outside, gravel crunching under the tires as Simon-my husband, no, my ex-husband-drove away.

Would he be shocked when he returned and found papers instead of me? Would he wear the cold mask from our wedding day? The same detached expression he had worn every day of our marriage? Or would he rejoice at my absence?

"It's better this way," I told myself. If I saw him, I would only break again.

I placed the signed papers on the bed and left a short note pinned to them, wishing him luck in his new love. My last act of dignity.

I gave my room one final look, my gaze lingering on the discarded wedding ring. My suitcase waited at the door. I reached for the handle, ready to step out of this house for good.

But the door burst open before I could move, and Simon stood there.

And for the first time in my life, I saw him not cold, not distant, but furious. He was fuming mad.

Simon's POV

The sound of a door slamming jolted me out of the work I was doing on my laptop. My head snapped up, and there she was-my mother, fury radiating from her like heat.

"Oh, I guess it's my door that slammed then," I thought bitterly, snapping my lips shut before the words could escape. Her footsteps were sharp against the floor, each one driving straight into my chest.

She stormed toward me, her eyes blazing. "What is this I hear on the news about you? What is this I hear you did to Tina?"

I exhaled slowly through my nose, willing myself not to roll my eyes. "Mum, you know better than to believe everything you see on TV," I said, returning my gaze to the laptop screen. My fingers hovered over the keys, pretending I still cared about the work I'd been doing.

The lid of my laptop snapped shut with a violent crack. My mother's voice rose, sharp and cutting. "Tina told me what happened! She told me you dragged her to a gynecologist to find out if she was pregnant for your baby."

Her accusation stung, not because it was untrue, but because Tina had run to her like some helpless child. I scoffed. "So Tina has made a habit of talking to you about me now?"

"She's been suffering in silence, Simon. Do you expect her to keep enduring it alone? Do you know how hard I tried before I got her to open up to me?"

Her words tightened something in my chest. For a flicker of a moment, guilt tried to slip in. I shoved it away with anger.

"When I saw the article about you two at a gynecologist's office," she continued, her voice trembling with both outrage and disappointment, "I thought it was going to be good news. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd be expecting a grandchild. Only for me to find out you threatened her-that you said if she had been pregnant, you would have made her get an abortion."

I shot up from my chair, my breath coming fast, my nose flaring. "Is it my fault that I don't want to have anything to do with her? She forced herself into this marriage!"

Her face crumpled, but then hardened. I pressed on, bitterness pouring out. "You know what, this is your fault, Mother. You went out of your way and got me a wife I never asked for. You pushed her into my life, and now you want to blame me for not loving her? That's on you."

She ran her hand through her hair, frustration etched deep in the lines around her eyes. "I just wanted the best for you, Simon. I wanted you to be happy."

The word happy cracked something open inside me. A laugh escaped, low and humorless. "Don't you dare hide behind that word. You don't get to say you wanted me happy when you took happiness away from me-just like you took it away from my father until it killed him."

"Don't bring your father into this," she snapped, too quickly.

My anger ignited into flame. "You took Sarah away from me. Yes, we had our issues, but you had no right-no right-to blackmail her out of my life. Just like you've always interfered. You kept my friends away from me when I was a boy, the same way you isolated Dad from his friends. Your selfishness, your need to control everyone around you-" my voice broke into a shout-"that's what killed my father. You killed him!"

The slap landed before I could register her hand moving. The sound cracked across the study walls, echoing in my ears before the sting lit up my cheek. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to flinch. I'd expected it. My father's death had always been the one landmine between us, and I'd just stepped directly on it.

"You know nothing about what happened with your dad," she spat. "Don't you dare jump to such horrible conclusions."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her lips trembling before she forced them into a firm line. "I expect you to apologize to Tina. For the way you've treated her. She has nothing to do with our godforsaken mother-son mess. She's just an innocent woman who got dragged into this family's drama. She loves you, Simon-despite your coldness."

Her words caught me off guard. For half a second, something inside me faltered. But I shoved it down, scoffing, letting the sneer shield me. "I don't care if she loves me. I'm not interested in opening up my heart to anyone. And I made that clear to you when you got us engaged."

As if summoned to save me from her relentless needling, my phone buzzed. An email notification. My eyes skimmed it and a smile tugged at my lips.

"Well, look at that," I said, unable to resist twisting the knife. "Your grand plans to separate me from Sarah have failed. She's coming back tomorrow. And when she's here, I'm kicking Tina out of my life for good."

Confusion flickered across her face. "But... I thought you two broke up. You had a shouting match, Simon. You told her to get out-that you couldn't deal with her anymore."

"So you even know the contents of my private conversations now?" I asked dryly. "Not that it surprises me. Maybe I should fire a few of the maids, so they learn not to gossip."

"Private?" she scoffed. "The whole house could hear you two screaming."

"Yes, we fought," I admitted. "But we've made up. She apologized. We're giving our relationship another chance. I know that's the last thing you want to hear."

My mother's eyes widened. She quickly masked it, but I saw the tremor. "Do you even know why she left in the first place?"

"Yes." My voice was steady, even though my heart thumped hard in my chest. "I know exactly what you blackmailed her with. And I don't care. Her past has nothing to do with me."

Her face fell, then hardened like stone. "Fine. Do whatever you want. But don't say I didn't warn you." She stormed out, the door vibrating on its hinges as she slammed it shut.

The silence she left behind pressed on me. I ran a hand through my hair, grabbed my phone, and dialed Sarah. Straight to voicemail. Again. My frustration boiled over-I hurled the phone against the wall, watching it shatter.

The next morning, as I drove to work, my phone-patched together just enough to function-rang. An acquaintance from M&K Law Firm. His words made my stomach clench. I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, turned the car around, and sped home.

I stormed up the stairs and flung open the door to Tina's room. She froze, eyes wide, a travel bag at her side. Her hand clutched the handle as though she'd been caught mid-escape.

My gaze fell to the bed. A brown envelope sat there, glaring at me against the white sheets. The M&K Law Firm logo glinted on the corner. My pulse roared in my ears. Without thinking, I snatched it up and tore it apart, shredding the papers inside along, not caring about the sticky note attached.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Tina's voice shook with outrage.

I raised my hand-not to hit, but to silence her. "What the hell is wrong with me? No-what the hell is wrong with you? To think I had begun to feel some sort of remorse for how I treated you. But no. You deserved every single thing I said and did."

"You never change, Tina. You let me find out about our marriage on TV. And now you let me find out about our divorce through a stranger"

"You love someone else, don't you, I did it for you", Her face crumpled, pain etching her features,

Her words pierced deeper than I wanted to admit. For a heartbeat, shame rose-but I buried it in fury. "Don't you dare say you did it for me. Don't you dare use that word. You sound just like my mother. The both of you, pretentious lots. You got what you wanted from me, and now you want to leave? Just like that?"

Her eyes glistened. "What else do you want from me? I tried, Simon. I tried to hold this marriage together despite your coldness, despite the way you belittled me. But you love someone else. Someone you're willing to give a second chance."

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, her tears almost got to me. Almost. I forced my expression into a sneer. "Don't give me those crocodile tears. You put yourself into this. Don't act like you were forced. You smiled for the cameras when the whole world announced a union I knew nothing about."

I could still see her on that stage in my mind, smiling, radiant. Pretending. Fooling the world-and maybe even fooling me.

"You and my mother forced me into this. So if anyone wants out, it'll be me. If anyone's filing for divorce, it'll be me. So you'd better start unpacking."

I didn't wait to see her reaction. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, the sound of my own heartbeat louder than the slam of the door behind me.