Secretly A Billionaire: His Ex Wife Regret

The golden sheen of sunset makeup cast a soft glow into the modest living room of the Moretti home. A fire crackled upon the hearth as Cassio adjusted a chair, calloused hands betraying his new life of labour. He looked at the time; his heart grew with anticipation.

Tonight was to be special. He had been planning for weeks.

"Milena," he called, the deepness of his voice carrying through the house, "are you ready? Dinner's almost served."

Milena came out of their bedroom, her face taut, lips pursed. She was in a simple dress but the beauty of her was overwhelmed by an aura of discontent.

Dinner?" she echoed, cocking one eyebrow. "Cassio, I thought we decided to celebrate somewhere… decent. Not in this…"

Her hand flailed around the room in distaste.

The lines in Cassio's forehead deepened a bit further, though his tone remained even. "I thought it meaningful to celebrate here; it is where we built our life together.

Milena snorted. "Our life? This isn't a life, Cassio. It's survival. I didn't marry a war hero to end up in some backwater village."

The words cut like a knife. Cassio took a deep breath, his jaw hardening. "I thought you liked the peace here. Away from the chaos, the politics…

"I liked it at first," Milena admitted, crossing her arms. "But it wore off. Cassio, you are meant for greatness, not…whatever this is." She waved a hand toward his hands, which were roughened from working with wood and farming.

Cassio took yet another step closer, trying to bridge the growing divide between them. "Milena, I chose this life for us. So we could have peace, a family…

His voice gentled. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Milena's eyes shone, but not with tenderness. "What I wanted Cassio, was a man of power. A man who commanded respect. Not someone who spends his days fixing fences and bartering for firewood."

He winced but didn't budge. "Milena, I-"

"Enough," she whipped through her teeth, silencing him. "I cannot do this anymore."

Cassio's heart fell. "What are you saying?

She stepped back, her hands shaking as she fists them. "I'm saying I want out, Cassio. I want a divorce."

In a heartbeat, the room was silent but for the popping fire. Cassio stared at her, incredulity written across his handsome face.

"Divorce?" he repeated hoarsely. "Milena, we can get through this. Whatever it is you're feeling—

"No, Cassio!" she screamed back, wholly frustrated. "You don't get it, do you? I don't want this life. I don't want you. You are not the man I married."

Cassio's fists flashed to fists, chest rising and falling in an effort not to show how hard he was fighting to keep himself from coming completely unglued. "The man you married," he began low and even, "he gave everything for you. For us. I gave up my title, my army, my power-to keep you safe."

Milena laughed. "Safe? I never asked for that! You made those choices on your own, Cassio. And now I'm paying for them.

He took a shaking step back, the weight of her words upon him. "I thought you loved me," he whispered. "For who I am, not what I could give you."

Milena laughed bitterly. "I thought I did too. But love doesn't pay for the life I deserve. The luxuries, the prestige-" She broke off as her eyes fell on the small box Cassio had set on the table. "What's this?

Cassio swallowed hard. "It's your present.

She picked up the box, opened it. Lying inside was a sleek, gold card and state-of-the-art cell phone. She lifted a brow. "What am I supposed to gather from this?

"It's a VIP bank card," Cassio said softly. "There is no limit of spending on it. I had set it up through my connections in Diatora. And the phone-it's linked to my old military nets. I thought.it would remind you of who I was. Of us."

The gifts stared back at Milena for a long time while she glared at them, a scornful gale of laughter bursting from her mouth. She didn't hesitate but tossed the box onto the floor, card and phone clattering onto the hardwood.

"Is this a joke?" she demanded. "You think some flashy card and a phone can fix this?

Cassio's cool finally broke. "It's not about the card, Milena. It's about what it represents. I'm still the man you fell in love with. The man who fought for you, who would die for you!

Her gaze hardened. "Maybe I didn't want you to fight for me. Maybe I wanted you to fight with me-for a life worth living.

The words hung in the air like the knell of doom. Cassio slumped, the fight siphoning from his body.

"I see," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he stooped and picked up the discarded gift in a shaking hand. "If this is how you feel, Milena…then I won't stop you."

She blinked in surprise at the quick resignation of him. "You're not going to fight for us?

He watched her, amber eyes glinting with unshed tears. "I've fought enough battles. I won't fight one where I've already lost."

Milena turned away, her face inscrutable. "I'll send for my things tomorrow," she said briefly and left through the door.

With the click of the door, Cassio dropped into a chair; the weight of the evening crashed over him. The fire in the hearth ebbed-low, mirroring the light in his heart.

For the first time in years, Cassio Moretti-exalted lord and warrior-finally felt defeated.

Next morning, there was chill inside and outside the cottage. Cassio sat at the little kitchen table, staring at the breakfast he had made but hadn't touched. His old cell phone began to hum in soft hums in the absolute silence.

The name which appeared on the screen sounded so familiar. Silvia.

With a deep sigh and a defeated bend over, he answered, "Silvia,.

"Happy birthday, Lord Moretti!" Silvia's bright, effervescent voice sliced through the gloom like a knife. "How does it feel, being twenty-three? Your soldiers have been marking off the days on their calendars until today!"

Cassio's lips twisted wryly. "It feels. different this year."

Silvia's smile faltered as she caught something rare in his voice-melancholy. "Lord Moretti, is everything all right? You don't sound like yourself."

He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Let's skip the niceties, Silvia. What is the purpose of your call?"

"Ah," she said carefully, "I was calling to confirm today's itinerary. The generals were firm on one thing: that today was to be celebrated in style. They have arranged a banquet at the castle in Diatora, complete with speeches and-"

"No." Cassio's voice cut her off.

Silvia faltered. “No? But, my lord, they’ve traveled from across the region for this. Generals Vittorio, Alessia, and even old Captain Lucian have brought their families to honor you.”

“They should turn around and go home,” Cassio said, his voice hardened with bitterness.

“Cassio,” Silvia said, dropping the formalities. “What’s going on? You’ve never been this…dismissive before.”

He let out a dry laugh. "Let me tell you a little birthday story, Silvia. The woman for whom I gave up everything-the woman with whom I was so sure wanted to spend the rest of my life-told me last night that she seeks divorce."

Silvia looked so taken aback. "Milena? Why? I thought you two were happy!"

So did I, he returned tightly. Till she made it clear that she does not marry a man; she marries the title, the wealth, the power. All of which she thinks I no longer have.

That is utterly absurd! Silvia exclaimed. Everybody knows who you are. You may have stepped away, but your influence hasn't dimmed. If anything, it has grown!

Cassio laughed, low and bitter. "Not to her. To Milena I'm just a farmer who abandoned the life she wanted." He paused, his hands clenching on the edge of the table. "She doesn't know about the accounts or the castle-or the loyalty of my soldiers. She saw only what was in front of her."

Silvia's voice gentled. "Cassio, I'm so sorry. I just can't believe she…

The sentence trailed off as if she searched for words.

He shrugged, the motion feeling hollow. "It does not matter anymore. Let the generals celebrate without me. There is nothing left to celebrate here."

"Wait," Silvia said, her voice steady. "Cassio, you cannot run from this. You are more than what Milena sees. She is not the only one that counts. You have given so much to so many-people who do see your worth.

Cassio let out a weighty sigh. "Silvia, thanks, but this isn't really the time. Tell the soldiers I appreciate it, but I won't be going to any feast.

Silvia's voice was entreating. "Cassio, do not let her response define you. She may have spurned thee, but thou art the man who fought and won against a kingdom. Thou art yet Lord Moretti.".

There was a long moment of silence, her words settling in. Finally, he spoke, an edge of bitterness now in his voice. "If Milena couldn't see that, Silvia, perhaps it's time I stopped trying to prove myself to people who don't care."

A car pulling up outside forestalled Silvia's answer, and Cassio rose, striding to the window, frowning as he saw Milena alight, cold, her expression determined.

"I have to go," he muttered. "Milena's here."

"Cassio, wait—" Silvia began, but he hung up, tucking the phone into his pocket as he opened the door.

She was standing on the porch, arms crossed, her gaze wandering over the property with thinly veiled disdain.

"What are you doing here?" Cassio asked wearily.

She arched her eyebrow. "I came to pack my things. I did not think that you would mind."

He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. "Do what you need to do."

As she brushed by him, her gaze came to rest on the detritus of last night's celebration: the candles still unlit, the wrapping box from her gift now cast aside beside the fire.

"Is this your celebration?" she remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Cassio's jaw clenched tighter. "It was. Before you chose to cut the evening short.

Milena shrugged, heading toward their bedroom. "Well, it wouldn't have mattered. I don't belong here, Cassio. And neither do you. You're clinging to a fantasy that doesn't suit you."

He followed her, his voice low but sharp. "And what suits me, Milena? War? Power? Wealth? Is that what you wanted?"

She spun to him, her face unrelenting. "Yes. That's who you are. Or at least, who you were. This

version of you? It's a shadow."

For a moment Cassio stared back, his chest thick with anger and sadness combined. Then he spoke, his steady voice low. "I hope one day you come to know the difference between a shadow and a foundation.

Milena snorted, reaching for her suitcase. "Save the metaphors, Cassio. They won't change a thing."

As she left through the door, the weight of her absence fell over him, but behind his mind, the words of Silvia remained, small sparks amongst darkness.

Maybe he had lost Milena. But his story was far from over.