The Billionaire Who Faked My Love Story And Lost The Real One Chapter 06
It wasn’t Garrick.
The man standing there was tall, backlit, silhouetted against the dying sun.
I couldn’t see his face clearly, but the coldness rolling off him reached me before his voice did.
He looked down at me and tucked the hair behind my ear.
Five years apart. His first words came out wrecked.
“You got thin.”
He was holding his phone. The view from my balcony, screenshotted from the livestream.
That was all he needed.
I grabbed his wrist and smiled.
“Take me home.”
His hand closed around mine, burning hot.
As the car rounded the corner, I caught a figure in the rearview mirror, sprinting toward the house.
Even from the street, I could hear fists hitting the door hard enough to rattle the glass.
He kept pounding. Eventually it opened.
But the only one inside was his assistant, beaten up and apologetic. “Mr. Ashford, we… we couldn’t
stop her.”
The car turned again, and the house disappeared behind us.
I let myself smile.
This time, Garrick, it’s really over.
When things went quiet, I finally let myself look at him.
He’d lost weight too. His face was sharper, all hard angles and bone.
There was a darkness to him now, and something restless behind his eyes that hadn’t been there
before.
I broke the silence.
“I married Garrick. These past five years.”
“I know.”
His voice gave nothing away.
“We slept together too. If that’s a problem…”
The car stopped.
Silas was on me before I could finish. His mouth crushed mine.
Five years of missing me, five years of rage, all of it pouring into that kiss. Like he wanted to absorb
His arm locked around my waist, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise.
It hurt. I didn’t pull away.
He laughed softly against my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
“Elara, what kind of man do you think I am?”
“You think I’d throw you away because someone touched you?”
Something warm and wet hit my shoulder.
I looked up. His eyes were bright, swimming.
“I don’t care what happened to you. You’re the only good thing this world ever gave me.”
His voice broke. “Elara, I love you.”
“Only you.”
My chest tightened. My eyes burned.
We went home. The real one. The house we’d picked out together before the wedding, five years
ago.
We’d decorated every room ourselves. I never spent a single night there before Garrick took me.
Nothing had changed.
But I was too tired to look.
By the time we got inside, I could barely stand. I dropped onto the couch with my shoes still on.
Somewhere in the haze, I felt arms lift me, carry me to bed, pull the blanket up to my chin.
I slept harder than I had in five years.
When I woke up, the room was dark except for the lamp by the bed.
Silas was lying beside me, propped on one elbow.
One hand holding mine, the other cradling his head as he watched my face.
He was looking at me like I might shatter if he blinked.
“You’re not sleeping?”
My voice came out rough.
He didn’t look away.
“I can’t. I’m scared this is a dream. That I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”
Something cracked open in my chest.
Five years apart, and it still felt like no time had passed.
I pulled him close. My hand found his back and patted it, slow and steady, the way you’d soothe a
child.
“Go to sleep.”
I pressed my face into his chest, and my next words came out muffled.
“Once we’ve slept, we’ve got a lot of people to destroy.”
He laughed. I felt it rumble through his chest.
His arms tightened around me, and for the first time in five years, he let himself sleep.
