The Cruel Billionaire's Unwanted Perfect Wife

Ellery pushed the heavy walnut door open. The metallic click of the lock echoed in the massive, empty foyer of the Upper East Side penthouse.

She pulled her key from the door. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor. A pair of red-soled stilettos lay discarded on the expensive Persian rug. They were a size too small to be hers.

A woman's high-pitched, breathy laugh drifted from the living room. The sound hit Ellery's eardrums like a physical blow. Her stomach muscles tightened.

She kicked off her work pumps, slid her feet into her slippers, and walked toward the sound. Her face remained completely blank.

As she rounded the corner, the heavy, suffocating scent of Chanel No. 5 hit her nose. It clashed violently with the subtle cedarwood diffuser she kept in the apartment. Her throat closed up.

Crystal stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She wore a sheer silk nightgown that left nothing to the imagination. A crystal champagne flute dangled from her manicured fingers.

Crystal turned around. Her eyes raked over Ellery's conservative gray business suit. A smirk twisted her red lips.

She swirled the champagne in her glass. "You're home early," Crystal said. Her voice dripped with mockery.

Ellery did not blink. She did not speak. She looked right through the woman and kept walking toward the master hallway.

Crystal's smirk vanished. Her face flushed red. She took a quick step sideways, blocking the entrance to the hallway.

Ellery stopped. She looked at Crystal's collarbone, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Move," Ellery said. Her voice was flat, cold, and completely empty.

The master bedroom door clicked open.

Holland stepped out into the hallway. He wore a dark gray bathrobe loosely tied at his waist. He was rubbing a white towel through his damp, dark hair.

He stopped. His dark eyes darted between the two women. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

Crystal immediately softened her posture. She practically threw herself at Holland, pressing her bare shoulder against his arm.

"Holland," Crystal whined, dragging out his name.

Holland did not push her away. Instead, his eyes locked onto Ellery. He watched her face, waiting for a reaction. He was searching for a crack in her armor.

Ellery's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. The sharp pain grounded her. She turned on her heel, ready to walk back out the front door. The air in the apartment was too thin to breathe.

"Get out," Holland said. His voice was a low, hard rumble.

Crystal's triumphant smile froze. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "What?"

Holland dropped the towel. His jaw muscle feathered. "I said, get out. Now."

Crystal bit her bottom lip. Her hands shook as she grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa. She didn't bother putting it on. She snatched her red-soled shoes from the rug and ran for the door.

The heavy front door slammed shut. The loud bang echoed through the penthouse.

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Holland closed the distance between them in three long strides. He grabbed Ellery's wrist. His large fingers wrapped completely around her delicate bones, squeezing hard.

He yanked her forward. Her chest crashed against his solid torso.

Ellery twisted her arm, trying to break his grip. "Let me go."

His grip only tightened. He lowered his head. His warm, mint-scented breath brushed against her cheek.

"You didn't even flinch," Holland whispered. His voice was laced with anger. "You really don't care, do you?"

Before she could answer, his hand moved to the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back. He crashed his mouth down on hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a punishment. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip. He demanded entry, forcing his dominance onto her.

Ellery pushed her hands against his chest. He didn't budge. Her lungs burned for oxygen. Realizing she couldn't win, she went completely limp. She closed her eyes and stood perfectly still, like a lifeless doll.

Holland's body went rigid. He pulled back, his chest heaving.

The soft, electronic chime of the private elevator shattered the heavy silence.

The polished steel doors slid open, revealing the Sutton family's head butler standing perfectly straight in the foyer.

Holland stared at the intruder. He slowly released Ellery's wrist. He took a step back, his chest still heaving as he adjusted the collar of his robe.

Ellery took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking as she smoothed down her ruined blouse.

The butler bowed his head slightly.

"Sir. Madam. Apologies for the intrusion," the butler said, his voice a smooth, practiced monotone. "Madam Goldia expects you both at the estate for dinner tonight. She explicitly instructed me to ensure you received the message personally, and to remind you that she expects good news regarding your cycle."

The butler stepped back into the elevator. The doors slid shut. Ellery stared at the empty foyer. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot.

Ellery set her heavy silver fork down on the porcelain plate. A sharp cramp seized her stomach.

She sat at the long mahogany dining table inside the Sutton family's Long Island estate. The room smelled of roasted lamb and old money.

Goldia sat at the head of the table. She tapped her manicured fingernail against the rim of her crystal water glass.

"Well?" Goldia demanded. Her eyes were fixed on Ellery's flat stomach. "Are you pregnant yet?"

Ellery kept her eyes on her half-eaten food. "I am following the doctor's instructions, Goldia. We are trying."

Goldia scoffed. She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She slammed it onto the table.

"This is a new schedule from the fertility clinic," Goldia said. "You need to quit that little dressmaking hobby of yours. You need to stay home and focus on giving this family an heir."

Ellery's head snapped up. Her heart hammered against her ribs. "My studio is not a hobby. I have clients. I am not quitting my job."

The silence in the dining room became deafening. Goldia's face turned a dangerous shade of red. She opened her mouth to scream.

Holland suddenly pushed his chair back. The wooden legs scraped loudly against the marble floor.

He grabbed Ellery's wool coat from the back of her chair. "We are leaving."

Goldia glared at him. "Sit down, Holland. I am not finished speaking to my daughter-in-law."

"We are leaving," Holland said. His voice left no room for argument. "This conversation is over." He grabbed Ellery's upper arm and pulled her out of her chair.

He dragged her toward the front doors.

"Holland!" Goldia shrieked from the dining room. "You come back here!"

Holland ignored her. He pushed the heavy oak doors open and shoved Ellery outside.

The freezing night wind whipped across Ellery's face. Holland practically threw her into the passenger seat of his black Maybach.

He slammed the door shut, walked around the hood, and got into the driver's seat. The doors locked with a sharp click.

Holland slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the gravel driveway. The car shot out into the dark night.

The interior of the car was dead silent. Ellery turned her head and stared out the window. The bare trees blurred together in the darkness.

Holland gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were stark white. He yanked the wheel hard, merging onto the highway toward Manhattan.

Thirty minutes later, the Maybach pulled into the private underground garage of their penthouse building.

They rode the private elevator up to the top floor in silence. The doors slid open. Holland immediately reached up and ripped his silk tie from his neck.

Ellery kicked off her heels. Her feet ached. She turned her body toward the guest bedroom hallway.

Holland stepped in front of her. He held a crystal glass filled with amber whiskey. He had poured it the second they walked in.

He reached out and pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger. He forced her to look up at him.

"Why were you acting like a mute tonight?" Holland demanded.

Ellery let out a dry, humorless laugh. "I was just playing the part. Isn't that what your mother wants? A silent, perfect breeding machine?"

Holland's eyes darkened. The muscle in his jaw ticked violently.

He slammed the whiskey glass down onto the marble bar counter. The glass didn't break, but the loud thud made Ellery jump.

He bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

"Put me down!" Ellery yelled, kicking her legs.

Holland ignored her. He carried her down the hall and kicked the master bedroom door open. He threw her down onto the center of the massive king-sized bed.

Ellery scrambled backward, but Holland was faster. He climbed over her, pinning her wrists to the mattress above her head. His eyes were completely black with rage.

The air in the room grew heavy. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the space.

When it was over, Holland rolled off her. He stood up and pulled his bathrobe on, tying it tightly at his waist.

He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at her. Ellery pulled the thick duvet up to her chin, curling her knees to her chest.

"You lie there like a dead fish," Holland sneered. His voice was cruel and detached. "It completely ruins the mood."

Ellery bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted copper. She refused to let the tears fall. She stared at the wall, staying completely silent.

Holland walked to the bedroom door. He placed his hand on the knob and stopped.

"Be at my office tomorrow morning at nine sharp," he ordered without turning around.

The door clicked shut.

Ellery lay in the dark. A wave of intense nausea washed over her. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling completely disgusted with herself.

The morning sun pierced through the gap in the heavy blackout curtains. Ellery sat up. Every muscle in her body ached.

She walked into the master bathroom and turned on the cold water. She splashed her face, trying to wash away the exhaustion.

Her phone vibrated against the marble vanity.

She picked it up. It was a text message from Goldia.

I have booked you an appointment with the top fertility specialist on Park Avenue for tomorrow. Do not be late.

Ellery's chest tightened. She flipped the phone over, placing it face down on the cold stone.

Two seconds later, the phone started ringing loudly. The caller ID showed her brother's name: Hayward.

Ellery stared at the screen for three seconds before sliding her finger across the glass.

"Did you talk to him?" Hayward's sugar-coated, manipulative voice drifted through the speaker. "Ellery, sweetie, please tell me Holland agreed to inject funds into the White-Peak development project?"

"No," Ellery said coldly. "I cannot control Holland's business decisions, Hayward."

Hayward let out a long, heavy sigh. "Ellery, you know I don't want to pressure you. But you are his wife. You need to try a little harder, for Mom's sake. Her medical bills at the Swiss sanatorium are due next month, and they are astronomical. If Garza Group goes under, my hands are tied. I really don't know how I'll explain to the doctors that we have to pull the plug on her treatment... I'm not forcing you, I'm just heartbroken for Mom."

Ellery's fingernails dug into her palms. Her breathing turned shallow. "You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't have a choice," Hayward murmured softly, the venom hidden beneath a layer of fake grief. "Make him sign the deal, Ellery. For Mom."

The line went dead. Ellery's hands shook. She gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white. She had no choice. She had to keep playing the game.

She picked up the phone and dialed Goldia's number.

"I will move back into the Long Island estate," Ellery said, swallowing her pride. "I will follow the prep routine."

She hung up before Goldia could gloat.

Ellery walked into her closet. She pulled out a tailored, high-necked black suit. She applied a thick layer of concealer to her neck to hide the dark bruises Holland had left on her skin.

She had to go to Holland's office first. She couldn't afford to disobey him now. She walked out of the building and hailed a yellow cab, giving the driver the address to the Sutton Enterprise skyscraper.

At exactly nine o'clock, Ellery pushed open the heavy glass doors of Holland's top-floor executive suite. His assistant didn't even look up, simply pointing toward the double mahogany doors. Ellery walked in. Holland was sitting behind his massive desk, signing documents. He didn't offer her a seat. For twenty agonizing minutes, she stood there in her high heels, completely ignored. The silence was a suffocating weight, a deliberate power play to remind her of her place.

Finally, Holland threw his pen down. "You look like a corpse," he stated coldly, his eyes raking over her conservative suit. "My mother is hosting a charity gala this weekend. Make sure you don't embarrass me. Now get out."

Ellery's fingernails dug into her palms. She turned without a word and left the suffocating office. Stepping back onto the bustling Manhattan pavement, she took a ragged breath. She hailed another yellow cab. She gave the driver the address to her high-end custom dressmaking studio, TT Couture.

When she pushed the glass doors of her studio open, her receptionist rushed forward. The young girl looked panicked.

"Ms. Garza, there is a very difficult VIP client in the fitting room," the receptionist whispered. "She is throwing a fit."

Ellery frowned. She handed her leather bag to her assistant and walked straight toward the VIP room.

She pushed the half-open door. Crystal was sitting on the velvet sofa. She was flipping through a book of expensive fabric swatches.

Crystal looked up. A triumphant, nasty smile spread across her face.

Crystal picked up a sample of French Chantilly lace and tossed it onto the glass coffee table. "I want you to personally design a custom set for me."

Ellery's face remained completely blank. She walked into the room and stopped in front of the table.

"My schedule is fully booked," Ellery said in a monotone voice. "My assistant can help you."

Crystal stood up. She took a step closer, invading Ellery's personal space.

"Holland texted me again last night after he left," Crystal whispered, her eyes gleaming with malice. "He felt bad about kicking me out."

Ellery's heart gave a violent lurch, but she kept her face perfectly still. She forced a polite, professional smile.

"I need a very seductive lingerie set," Crystal continued loudly, making sure the staff outside the glass walls could hear. "It's to please Mr. Sutton."

The studio went dead silent. The other designers peeked through the glass, their eyes wide.

Ellery took a slow, deep breath. If she caused a scene, it would ruin her studio's reputation. She needed the money from this commission to deal with Hayward's blackmail.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her yellow measuring tape.

Crystal smiled brightly and raised her arms in the air, looking around the room like she owned the place.

Ellery stepped forward. Her hands were ice cold as she wrapped the tape measure around Crystal's chest.

"Make sure it pushes everything up," Crystal sneered, looking down at Ellery. "He likes it when I look perfect."

Ellery did not say a word. She just pulled the tape measure a little tighter.