Billionaire’s Ex-wife : Craving You

Chapter 80
RAVEL
FOUR YEARS AGO
Marrying Hazel has unquestionably been the most incredible choice I’ve ever made. With each passing day, my affection for her deepens, as if it’s an eternal wellspring that knows no bounds. It’s astounding to think that Anne ever believed she could dissuade me from tying the knot with Hazel, or that she could thwart our union in any way.
In the quiet stillness of our bedroom, the door leading to the bathroom swung open, revealing Hazel cloaked in the gentle embrace of silk nightwear. I couldn’t help but be captivated by her ethereal presence. Mesmerized, I fixed my gaze upon her as she gracefully made her way to our bed,
With an alluring smile, she joined me, her eyes sparkling with a playful curiosity. “How much longer do you plan to keep your gaze locked on me?” she inquired, her voice melodious.
With a playful smirk, I shut my laptop and placed it gently on the bedside drawer. “I plan to keep admiring you and gazing into your eyes for as long as my vision holds out,” I declared, a mischievous glint in my eyes. Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of crimson in response.
Chuckling at her adorable embarrassment, I reached out and drew her close into the comforting embrace of my arm. Hazel nestled her head in the crook of my neck, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sweet intimacy between us.
Her warm breath tickled my skin as she murmured, “I love how you smell.”
My hand, driven by an instinctive need to be close to her, wrapped around her waist and traced delicate circles. “Well, I teased, “it takes a million-dollar perfume to smell this good.”
Hazel’s head snapped up, her eyes widening with curiosity. “Figuratively or literally?” she inquired, her voice laced with a hint of amusement and intrigue.
A smug smirk played on my lips as I confidently replied, “Literally.” I couldn’t help but exude an air of pride as I revealed the extravagant price tag attached to the DKNY Golden Delicious perfume. It had started as a gift, but over time, I had become utterly enamored with its scent and had continued to use it religiously.
Hazel, utterly taken aback, sank down onto a nearby chair, her eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. “That perfume in the closet cost a million dollars?” she asked, her tone laced with incredulity. I simply nodded in confirmation.
“Da mn!” she exclaimed, unable to contain her shock. “If I had known it was worth that much, I wouldn’t have been so
careless with it.”

Intrigued by her confession, I sat up, drawing closer to her and planting a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “What did you do with my perfume, Hazel?”
Hazel wore a sheepish smile as she confessed, “Well, I might have used it on the artificial daisies in the dining room.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I struggled to contain the laughter bubbling up inside me.
She continued, “The flowers didn’t have any scent at all because they weren’t real, so I decided to use your perfume.”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer; laughter erupted from deep within me, a hearty, rumbling sound. Moments like these made her irresistibly endearing.
Amused by her actions, I teased, “What happened to your perfume?”
Her lips formed a playful pout as she responded, “Yours smells better.”
With a fond shake of my head, I leaned in and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Is that so?” I mused. “My wife is the only one who would comfortably use a million-dollar perfume on artificial flowers just to make them smell nice.” She giggled in response, finding my observation utterly amusing.
My phone buzzed on the bed, and Hazel reached out to help me retrieve it. My attention, however, remained captivated by the enticing curve of her exposed breast through one of the unbuttoned openings of her nightwear. Lost in my reverie, I ignored the call, uninterested in who the caller might be.
“You should answer the call,” Hazel gently reminded me. “It’s your mom on the line.”
A surge of surprise coursed through me. Anne? Why on earth was she calling me? I had vowed never to speak to her again after the stunt she had pulled on my wedding day. Reluctantly, I took the phone from Hazel’s hand and swiftly ended the call, tossing the phone carelessly onto the bed.
To my dismay, it immediately started ringing again. Hazel cast a resigned glance at the persistent device and sighed. “You should pick it up, Rav,” she urged, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
“I will do no such thing,” I declared with determination, my head nestled on Hazel’s neck as I peppered her with soft kisses. The persistent ringing of the phone went ignored until Hazel, seemingly taking matters into her own hands, reached for it and swiped to accept the call. I shot her a disapproving glare.
Annoyed, I hissed, “What the heck was that for?” I felt a touch of frustration that she had disregarded my clear wish not to speak to Anne.
Hazel calmly replied, “Let’s hear what she has to say, Rav,” placing the phone in my hand. I couldn’t resist her persuasive influence, so I reluctantly put the call on speaker mode and placed it between us.
“What do you want, Anne?” I inquired, my irritation evident. We had only been married for three months, and we were still basking in the honeymoon stage. Late-night calls were far from appreciated.
“Are you still angry with me, son?” Anne’s voice carried a hint of apprehension.
Hazel’s gentle touch on my beard served as a reminder to maintain civility. I responded tersely, “I’m not just angry with you, Anne. I’ve given up on you.” It was a blunt truth, one I had come to accept.
Anne winced, her remorse palpable. “How many times do I have to apologize to you, Ravel?” She sighed, a tinge of desperation in her voice. “I’m really sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing for you.”
Her apologies had lost their significance to me. This wasn’t the first time she had sought forgiveness, and I had no doubt it wouldn’t be the last. With a bored sigh, I asked, “What do you want, Anne?”
“It’s my birthday on Friday,” she mentioned, a fact I was already aware of. While I had never forgotten her birthday before, her consistently unpleasant demeanor had sometimes led me to simply ignore it. I had a feeling this month wouldn’t be an exception.
“And I want you to come,” she added, a request that hung in the air, awaiting my response.
“That’s not going to happen,” I responded firmly, maintaining my resolve. Hazel shot me a concerned frown, clearly worried about the tension in the conversation. “Give Elenor a call, if she’s willing to answer, and tell her about your birthday plans. I’m sure she’ll show up.” I knew Elenor had a soft spot for Anne.
Anne’s voice quivered as she whispered, “I’m literally begging you, son. I miss having my family together under the same roof, and you know it’s also your father’s death anniversary. I need you both around me.”
But emotional blackmail wasn’t going to sway me. I remained resolute. “That’s not going to happen, Anne. I already have plans with my wife for Friday, and I’m not going to cancel them for you. You haven’t earned that privilege so far.”
Anne persisted, “You can bring her along. I owe her an apology.” Her suggestion hung in the air, and I glanced at Hazel, who nodded in encouragement, signaling that I should consider attending her birthday dinner.