Forced Marriage To The Psychotic Billionaire ( Book 2)

Chapter 8: The Weightiness

After a long day of running around chasing or being chased by the kids, Lorena was glad to find the comfort of her tiny bed. The first two days, she had grieved, grieved the lost opportunity of ever being with the love of her life. She had cried herself to sleep on both days. Five days after, she still felt pain, but taking care of the kids, took her mind away from it.

Now on her bed, she searched for sleep, but it eluded her. She tossed and turned, almost falling off the bed, but she still couldn't sleep. Now the dust had settled, she had to know what her future held. Two weeks had passed since she was tagged the modern runaway bride. Asides from her father threatening her mother's foundation, nothing else had happened. She had not heard a peep from Markris.

"You must be enjoying life without the torn in your flesh." She whispered. She could picture his face now. She would rather die before she admitted it, but physically, every man paled compared to him. God was so unfair, giving suck physical looks to one-of-a-kind asshole.

"Stupido!" She muttered and burst into a feat of laughter. She remembered how his eyes had widened in confusion the first time she called him that. The Greek hottie, with an Italian mother, of course, understood her. The contorted look on his face, like how dare she insult a man like him. She had known at that moment they would always be at loggerhead.

Still, two weeks. Two weeks, and he didn't even care to find her. What if she had been hurt? What if some bad folks got a hold of her? He didn't care. He probably even threw himself a party to celebrate his freedom. He probably called the woman he was with on his bachelor's night out.

They were probably going at it at this moment. The mere thought of that churned her stomach. She shouldn't care. He had his life to live, and she did hers. However, she couldn't stand the facts. And the points were he was too much of a man whore to give a thought, fuck, or care about her whereabouts.

"You could have had him, but you let that poor man fill your thoughts. Let's face it. You didn't exactly give Markris a chance." The voice of her thoughts came piercing through her consciousness.

"Stop it! Please stop it. He was never any good for her. They met in the most bizarre circumstance. Have you forgotten what he did after? He shared her pictures online just because his ego was bruised. I think she dodged a bullet." Miss Peace going into a whole rant, said.

Lorena usually tried to stop them, but she was curious to listen. She wanted to get their perspective on her extraordinary dilemma.

Violence snickered. "Didn't the heir want her first? Didn't he show her how much he desired her? But you blinded her eyes to the possibilities with your endless pursuit of serenity."

"You don't know what you're saying. You are insane. Markris is no good for her. Never was, never will be."

"You can't say that. You can't see the future."

"But I sure can see the present, and you must be out of your mind if, with everything you watched her go through, you still think she should be with him."

"One day, you'll learn that the best love stories have the worst first drafts."

"And I hope you learn that toxic is not love."

Lorena smiled as their voices faded. She had let them do their thing, and they had left alone. Maybe they weren't that bad. She sure learned a whole lot from their back and forth. Strangely, she also felt less anxious than she had been all week. She even felt drowsy at that moment. She tried to drift to sleep when the loud ringing of her phone pushed her eyes open.

She stretched out her hands and grabbed the phone from the tiny stool beside her bed. She already knew who it was before she answered the call.

"Verona?" It seemed her sister only called her at the oddest hours recently.