Billionaire, Let's Divorce! by BELLA

Chapter 0201

+25 BONUS

Once the wreath was completed, I smiled sadly at my handiwork, running my fingers over the bright petals. "I'm sure he would have loved this one too," I whispered. He used to treasure every little silly craft I made him, no matter how ugly or lopsided I thought it looked.

I sighed heavily and just sat there for several long seconds, the fragile wreath resting in my hands as I stared silently at the patch of disturbed earth that was his final resting place. Then, so quiet I could barely hear my own voice, I murmured, "Lucas, I will definitely avenge your death. I swear it."

With those words lingering in the still air, I placed the flower wreath on his makeshift tomb, gently pressing it into the sand so that it would remain in place, a bright spot of color adorning his grave.

After taking one last long look to commit this moment to memory, I retrieved the bicycle and slowly pedaled my way back in the direction of the mansion and its occupants. An odd sense of melancholy hung over me, but also a reinvigorated sense of purpose.

at me in surprise. They seemed utterly stunned to see that I had actually returned of my own free will to this gilded prison. The ones who had managed to forge some kind of alliance or friendship in the midst of all the petty drama and constant jockeying for position whispered amongst themselves,

washes, oils, and scrubs I could find stocked in

find in the massive wardrobe that came with the room. I squirmed a bit as I carefully pulled on each lace and satin piece, wondering

preparations complete, I laid myself down on the plush bed, posing myself artfully among the mound of pillows, and calmly waited for his inevitable arrival. Perhaps adopting a mask of seductive vulnerability would help

nearly starting to doze off, my eyelids growing heavier by the second, when the door to my room was abruptly pushed open from the outside,

a seated position, clutching the bed covers to my chest. It took a few moments for my eyes to readjust and process the figure standing in the now open doorway. There was a gloomy, almost pained expression on Dylan's face- unless

Whatever

emotions were flickering across his features, I knew better than

gloating. I resisted there to smile triumphantly, instead