The Billionaire Soldier's Revenge

Chapter 4: Charlie's Conspiracy.

Freya Ronald was sleeping under silk sheets with Charlie's muscular arms wrapped around her waist. It was almost evening, and the shining sun was still illuminating the room.

At this point, she was trying hard to sleep, and right when her mind was clear enough to rest, her phone buzzed. Something in her felt it was important, given the fact that she wasn't at home like she told her husband she would be.

"Don't tell me you're leaving already."

Charlie's grip around her tightened as he brought his face closer.

"We were just getting started, weren't we?"

But Freya reached for her phone on the lampstand next to the bed. Too lazy to get up, Freya shoved off the strawberries on top while also being careful enough not to knock down the bottle of champagne close to the phone.

The message was from James, typed just the way he always did.

"I'm coming home early. There's something we need to discuss. Are you feeling better?"

She began to panic at the possibility that her husband knew about this.

"It's him, isn't it?"

Charlie asked as he took off his arms and rolled to the other side of the bed.

"I have to go," she said. "He's coming home early. I told him I was sick today so we could be together."

He got up from the bed and faced her.

"You mean so you could spare me a few hours between playing his perfect little wife?"

She bit her lower lip.

"That's not fair. You know that."

"Right," Charlie said as he walked to the window. He looked out at the Manhattan skyline, staring at the Greenville Industries tower from far away.

"That company should have been ours," he said while looking outside. "I've endured five bloody years of stolen afternoons and watching you go back to him every night while I go back to my empty apartment, and yet you claim what I'm saying isn't fair?"

Without saying anything, she got out of bed and started gathering her scattered clothes.

Her hands trembled as she pulled on the blouse James bought for her on their anniversary last month, the dinner where he spent the entire time on his phone.

"So now, you're not answering me?"

Charlie asked, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Charlie, please, not today."

Charlie shook his head, now turning around entirely.

"So when, then? When will you stop picking his bloody money over us?"

She took a deep breath.

"It's not about the money."

The lie burned her throat like cheap whiskey, and he tried his best to hold back a laugh.

"Oh really, then prove it."

She rolled her eyes as he moved to the hotel dresser to bring out something. Then he turned around with something in his hand; a bottle with a pale blue liquid that looked like something innocent.

It wasn't mouthwash or perfume; she knew better, even though she couldn't believe what he was implying.

So she still had to ask.

"What is that?"

He slowly walked over as he answered her question.

"Your choice," he replied. "After five years of waiting, I'm fed up with your games, and I'm giving you a real choice between him and me."

She shook her head.

"You can't be serious."

He smiled.

"Oh, I'm damn serious," he said with a twisted smile that made her start to fear him more than she feared her husband. "James Ronald has everything that belongs to me.

The foundation of his company was my idea, and the woman he has is the one I've always loved the most. He has the life I'm supposed to have; the life we're supposed to have, and you, my dear, will correct that."

She backed towards the door, but he stepped into her path. This six-foot wall of muscle kept her standing still.

"No."

He slowly raised her chin up and spoke in the same soft yet assertive tone that convinced her to meet him at his home for the first time after her wedding.

"Don't think too hard about it, my love," he said to her. "All it takes is one small drop in his evening drink. He's been getting lots of headaches, right? Everyone will think it's his brain tumor anyway."

She frowned.

"What brain tumor?"

His smile got a lot wider.

"Oh, you don't know, do you? James Ronald is dying, and he hasn't bothered to tell you, has he?"

She shook her head repeatedly.

"That's not true. What are you talking about?"

His smile disappeared immediately.

"Brain cancer, Freya. The terminal kind. My mate at his doctor's office tells me he'll be lucky to survive another year."

She was about to fall to her knees, but he held her in place.

"Easy, girl."

Many memories flooded her mind. All those times he spent late nights at the office caused a lot of stress, and that stress was what he blamed the headaches on, but never could she have imagined he was dying.

"Don't you see, Freya?" Charlie asked.

"This is fate. The universe is finally giving us a chance. Don't screw this up, will you? When James Ronald is gone, you'll inherit everything. You'll have the company, the mansion, and the billions. I'll be with you with no holding back, we'll finally have the life we've always wanted. Can't you see?"

But she shook her head.

"I can't do this, Charlie."

"You can, and you will," he said as he pressed the bottle into her palm. His fingers wrapped around hers like a steel trap, and it felt like there was no going back from there.

"You'll do it for us; for our future and the life he stole from us."

Freya looked at the bottle in her hand.

"But that doesn't make it any better, James is still my husband. I need time to think about this, Charlie. Please don't make me…"

Right then, Charlie's grip got so tight that it made her eyes water. He was passively hurting her, but she couldn't say anything.

"He is a stranger who stole you from me, so make your choice now, or walk out that door and never come back to me. I've waited five years for this. Either prove your love to me, or we're finished."