Roommates with My Ex

"She's pregnant." Alistair, my husband of three years, avoided my gaze and let out a heavy breath. "I'm offering you a billion dollars.

Can we keep this clean and just sign the divorce papers?" My heart slammed against my ribs. Five seconds ago, I was prepped to play the shattered, hysterical wife.

I even had the tears queued up, stinging the corners of my eyes. But a billion dollars? I blinked, and the moisture vanished.

I squared my shoulders. "Done." I looked right at him. "Do you have the check ready, or are we drafting an asset transfer agreement?

As long as the funds clear, I'll vanish from this Manhattan penthouse tonight.

You won't even know I existed." Chapter 1 After we got married, my husband essentially dropped off the face of the earth.

He promised not to interfere with my life, so I spent my days burning through his money and living it up.

Out of basic marital courtesy, I kept my hands to myself, but I firmly believed that admiring hot guys was the secret to eternal youth.

Aside from that high school reunion a month ago, I swear I had never done anything to betray my husband.

My mini skirt swayed with the music, the sequins catching the strobe lights and flashing blindingly. On stage, the man moved to the heavy bass.

His black muscle shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his sharply defined abs and the Vline dipping below his waistband, radiating a lethal dose of pure testosterone.

Stay warm when it's cold, touch some abs when you're bored. My sinful hand was just reaching out when disaster struck. The guy on stage locked eyes with me.

He vaulted off the stage, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me away from the thumping crowd, ignoring the collective groans of the women who had paid to see him.

Away from the strobe lights, he shoved me into a dark corner, his hand gripping my waist. He towered over me, his broad shoulders and chest stretching the fabric of his dark shirt.

The silver chain resting against his collarbone was the exact same one I had given him the year we graduated high school. Roman suffocated me with a dangerous aura.

He closed the distance in one stride, pinning both of my wrists above my head against the freezing wall with a single hand.

His massive frame pressed against me, leaving zero space to breathe, while his rough thumb traced the erratic pulse at my wrist.

Roman raked his gaze over me, opening his mouth to speak. My phone vibrated in my purse. In the quiet hallway outside the restrooms, the buzzing was obnoxiously loud.

Roman raised an eyebrow. His hand slid down to my waist, fishing the phone out of my bag.

He swiped to answer, held it to my ear, and leaned in so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Come home early tonight.

We need to talk." It was my billionaire husband, Alistair. When I failed to respond immediately, Alistair spoke again.

Thinking I was throwing a tantrum, he dropped his voice into a softer, coaxing tone. "Cleo, come home early tonight, okay?" "Okay." The temperature in the hallway plummeted.

Roman had definitely bulked up over the years. Staring at the sheer amount of testosterone practically vibrating off him, my fingers twitched with the urge to grab his shirt.

But before I could, his thumb brushed roughly against the corner of my mouth. A sharp sting flared on my lip. The instinct to bite him hit me, and I did not hold back.

I clamped my teeth down hard. Roman did not even flinch. He let me sink my teeth in, a dark smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Tsk. Your teeth are still as sharp as ever.

But does your billionaire, Wall Street husband know just how wild his perfect wife gets in a male strip club?" Chapter 2 My arms ached from being pinned above my head.

I struggled, yanking hard twice, which only seemed to fuel Roman's dark amusement. He offered a cynical smile. The scar near his temple throbbed, and I had to look away.

His fingers pinched the skin near my collarbone. "Cleo, do you even remember what you pulled last month? You thought you could just string me along and run?

Did you really think it would be that easy, huh?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he released me. I rubbed my sore shoulders, glancing down to see his handiwork.

The signature "Roman" red mark—the kind of souvenir no one ever asked for. "Go back," he sneered. "Go back and use this to explain things to your husband." Even as I turned to leave, I could feel the heavy weight of his gaze locked onto my back.

Pressing a hand against my chest, I cleared my throat. This bastard had successfully messed with my head, but right now, I needed to figure out what Alistair was up to.

I walked into the house. Alistair was already inside. He deposited me onto the sofa.

I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and looked at him. "What was so important that Alistair had to come back to discuss it with me?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Soren… is pregnant." My pupils dilated, and I nearly choked on the sip of tea I had just taken. "Wait.

Your first love can actually get pregnant?" Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose and flicked me lightly on the forehead. "Watch it." I narrowed my eyes. "So, what are you going to do about it?" A weird, apologetic expression crossed his face as he tested the waters. "I'm offering you a billion dollars." Thump.

My heart skipped a beat. "And we just sign the divorce papers?" Thump. Thump.

Tears of pure joy threatened to spill, but I nodded instead. "Whatever way you want me out of this house, just say the word!

I'll learn whatever pose you need me to strike on my way out!" Sensing his hesitation, I immediately spun around and made a beeline for the door. "If I stay another second, I'll just be an eyesore!" Alistair grabbed my wrist, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Cleo, you can't leave." …Was he seriously asking me to stay and play house with the two of them?

An image flashed in my mind, sending a fullbody shiver down my spine.

Me, running around serving tea and water to Soren, while the two of them flirted and got handsy right in front of me— Absolutely unacceptable!

This was beyond humiliating, no decent person could ever tolerate… wait, maybe I could! Actually, it wasn't a total dealbreaker.

I stiffened as Alistair's voice came from behind me, soft and calm. "You can bring that hot guy from the club back here.

The four of us can live together." I turned around slowly, locking eyes with him. "Every month, I will have the accounting department wire five hundred thousand dollars from your trust fund directly to your account.

Your unlimited black card will also remain active. The only condition is that you both must live in this villa." Paying to cuckold himself? Alistair, you truly are built different!

My phone buzzed in my hand. Startled, my finger slipped and hit speakerphone.

In the lavish living room, thick with the weight of that absurd arrangement, the heavy, dangerous breathing from the other end of the line cut right through the eerie silence between Alistair and me.

It was Roman's dark, ominous voice. "You really made me work to find you, my dear wife. I'm already at the door.

Do you need me to knock?" Chapter 3 I looked up, meeting Alistair's amused gaze.

Before I could respond, Roman's voice cut through the speaker again. "If you don't say anything, I'm knocking." Roman's tone carried the exact same shameless persistence as back when we were kids and he would camp outside my front door.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Go back for now.

I will find you tomorrow." Alistair arched an eyebrow, watching me with profound interest. "He is pretty resourceful, managing to track you down here. Why not let him in?

Are you regretting the deal, Cleo?" I shook my head, eager to prove my loyalty to the money. "No way!

Hesitating for a second would be a cardinal sin on my part." He kept staring at me with that curious expression. I let out a heavy sigh. "Alistair, you know how it is.

I just haven't figured out how to break the news to him yet." Alistair stood up, grabbing his suit jacket from the sofa, and turned to leave.

Seeing me frozen in place, he reached out and casually ruffled my hair. "I can barely keep Soren contained anymore.

If you don't speed up your negotiations, she is going to pack her bags and move in before the month is over." He looked helpless.

Before walking out the door, he threw his hands up in a dramatic shrug and rushed me one last time. "Speed it up.

The old man is breathing down my neck, and I'm at my breaking point." In the massive, empty villa, the vintage landline began to ring, the shrill sound echoing loudly.

I hopped on one good leg toward the console table.

The moment I picked up the receiver, the expected explosion hit my ear. "Cleo, when exactly is the Alistair family heir going to be conceived?

My trust funds and all my shares are prepped and ready, just waiting for my greatgrandson to be born!" Beautifully played. Alistair, you absolute bastard.

You hit your breaking point, so you tossed me onto the front lines to be your meat shield? Fine. If you are going to play dirty, do not blame me for returning the favor.

A wicked grin spread across my lips, but my voice instantly dropped into a pitiful, trembling register. "Grandpa, it is not that I am not trying hard enough…" My fake tears sent the old man into a panic, his tone shifting to coaxing. "Oh, my sweet Cleo, what is the matter?

Did that brat Alistair bully you? Tell me, grandpa will make him pay!" I forced a sniffle, playing the part of the longsuffering wife. "Grandpa… it is Alistair.

His… reproductive issues… he still refuses to go to the hospital for treatment…" I paused between every few words, keeping the accusations vague but devastating.

I clutched the receiver tightly, straining to listen to the reaction on the other end. Smack. The sound of a hand slamming against a heavy desk. Perfect.

The ball was officially back in his court. "My poor Cleo, you have suffered so much.

Just you wait, grandpa is going to teach him a lesson!" I stroked my chin, nodding while maintaining my pitiful tone. "Okay, Grandpa. Make sure you go to sleep early.

I will come visit you this weekend." Having successfully neutralized the threat, I drew a hot bath and soaked comfortably.

I grabbed my phone. [Chloe: New guy just arrived at the club. Get here NOW.] I debated it for a microsecond. [CleoRichAF: Sprained my ankle. Passing tonight.] Ding.

A video file dropped into the chat. A guy in a crisp white buttondown, his abs clearly visible through the fabric.

He had a silk tie blindfolding his eyes, yet he reached down toward the crowd, his fingers intertwining with a lucky girl in the front row, casually binding her wrists with the loose ends of the tie.

Holy shit. Where did they find this toptier college heartthrob? This was the physical manifestation of every teenage fantasy I had ever had. [CleoRichAF: Keep him reserved for me.

I'm there in ten.] The demure, perfectly tailored designer dress I had put on to play the good wife for Alistair was discarded onto the floor.

I tapped the partition glass behind the driver, hurrying him. "Step on it, or I'm going to miss the show." The driver adjusted his cap, remaining silent in the front seat.

Chapter 4 I curled my lips and clicked on the new video Chloe sent. The lighting was brighter now.

The guy on stage had his sleeves rolled up, revealing a dark rose tattoo on his forearm. The hot guy moved across my screen, and I nodded along to the beat.

The heavy bass thumped through my phone speakers. Suddenly, the car jerked.

The brakes slammed hard, throwing me forward against the seatbelt, before the car rapidly accelerated again. "You are driving a bit rough today," I said, barely glancing up.

I held down the record button and fired a voice memo back to Chloe. [Keep that guy on hold for me.

Do not even think about touching him!] Staring at the video, I fired off another text. [Your girl wants to get tied up tonight too.

I am so ready for this!] The McLaren abruptly swerved and killed the engine on the side of the road. I looked up. The driver stepped out, walked around, and yanked my door open.

He leaned in, his massive frame blocking the streetlights, and the door locked shut behind him with a heavy click.

The brim of his baseball cap shadowed his face, but the silver chain dangling against his collarbone was unmistakable. Roman.

This absolute bastard. "Get your hands off me." I swatted his cap away. His familiar face was set in stone.

He ground his teeth, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek, radiating pure hostility. "What do you want?" I demanded. A dark smirk broke through his expression.

He reached up and ripped the loose tie from around his own neck, closing the distance between us.

Before I could even throw a punch, he pinned my wrists together and looped the silk tie around them, pulling it taut.

He ignored my thrashing, his fingers clamping down on my jaw, forcing my face up.

One hand kept my bound wrists locked against the leather seat, while his other hand slid down, his rough thumb pressing directly over my collarbone.

Right over the fading red mark he had left there earlier. My phone erupted in my hand. Ten missed calls flashed on the screen.

Roman finally loosened his grip on my jaw and hit the answer button. "Cleo, I noticed your car has been parked outside for a while. Is everything alright?" It was Alistair.

Roman dragged his knuckles lightly down my ribs, mocking me. I gasped, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "Where are you?

How are you tracking my car?" Alistair ignored the question. "I am tied up over here and cannot make it back.

Do you need me to send someone to pick you up?" Roman pinched the tender skin on my wrist. I shot him a lethal glare, fighting through the sting. "No need.

Nothing is wrong, I am just about to…" Roman crashed his lips down on mine, swallowing the rest of my sentence.

I thrashed against his grip, useless against his strength, until he pulled back. "I know things have been unfair to you lately, Cleo," Alistair said through the speaker, oblivious. "I will make it up to you." The line went dead. "Seems like Mrs.

Alistair is in desperate need of some comfort," Roman whispered, his breath ghosting over my lips.

He draped his heavy leather jacket over my shoulders, hauling me out of the McLaren.

He stepped into my space, his fingers intertwining with mine, locking our hands together. "Still going to lie and say you did not miss me?" "Back off." I shoved my heel straight into Roman's shin.

He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to break free.

I scrambled backward, putting distance between us, and dropped onto the living room sofa. "I do have business to discuss with you, though." I stared at Roman.

He looked far too comfortable standing in my house. I dug my fingernails into my palms. "Roman, quit your job at the club." He froze.

For two agonizing seconds, he just stared at me. Then, a dangerous thrill lit up his eyes. "Mrs.

Alistair, are you planning to be my sugar mama?" I nodded, dead serious. "I do not come cheap." Roman sauntered over, collapsing onto the opposite sofa and crossing his long legs, a lazy smile on his face. "Fifty thousand a month?" I offered.

He arched a single eyebrow and slowly shook his head. "One hundred thousand dollars a month, plus you can pick any limitededition sports car from the garage in this villa.

That is my final offer, no more!" I locked eyes with him, clenching my fists. If I was being honest, my heart was hammering in my throat. I was terrified he would walk out.

My billiondollar divorce settlement was entirely dependent on him moving in. Chapter 5 Roman shook his head with a laugh, then stood up to grab his clothes.

I thought the negotiation was dead in the water.

I was frantically trying to figure out how to salvage my billiondollar divorce settlement when his voice drifted over from across the room. "One hundred thousand and one dollar." What the hell was wrong with him? "So where am I staying, sugar daddy?" Roman asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest, issuing a direct order. "Hurry up and pack. You are coming home with me." For the first time, Roman looked shellshocked.

He froze in his tracks, his head turning slowly to stare at me. "Cleo, are you out of your mind?" I pulled out my phone and dialed Alistair. "Husband, I am bringing my guest home right now." Seeing Roman still standing there like a statue, I hit the speakerphone button.

Alistair's voice came through the line, gentle with a trace of resignation. "Alright. I will be back tomorrow. Take good care of him, make sure he feels at home." My eyes lit up.

Staring at the silver chain around Roman's neck, I could practically feel the billion dollars already sitting in my bank account. I was about to be filthy rich.

I bounced off the sofa, grabbed Roman's hand, and dragged him toward the door. The sixfootthree giant let himself be pulled out of the room like a walking zombie.

The moment the door clicked shut, I realized his hands were empty. "I told you to pack.

Where is your luggage?" Roman cleared his throat. "Look, playing a game is one thing, but we cannot push this too far." I rolled my eyes so hard they almost got stuck in the back of my head. "Pushing what too far?

Go back in there and grab your stuff!" Once we were finally settled in the backseat of the McLaren, I pulled up my messages with Chloe. [I have a billiondollar business transaction to handle.

Not coming in tonight.] By the time we reached the front steps of the villa, Roman was still visibly trying to process the absurdity of the situation.

He had always been wild and fearless, but even he could not comprehend the madness of my current strategy.

I stepped into the grand foyer and turned to look back at him. "Are you going to stand out there all night?" Hearing the challenge in my voice, that arrogant, cynical smirk finally returned to his face. "Coming." The butler was waiting by the door.

I patted Roman's arm. "Uncle Liu, prepare a suitable guest suite for this gentleman." "Right away, Madam." I turned back to Roman, pointing a warning finger at his chest. "Alistair is coming back tomorrow.

Make sure you are fully dressed when you walk out of your room." Roman gave a lazy nod of compliance. Running around all day had left me exhausted.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I am going to take a bath.

Do not bother me." I submerged myself in the massive jacuzzi tub overlooking the glittering city skyline, poured a glass of impossibly expensive red wine, and let out a long breath.

All I could see in front of my eyes were stacks of cash. Tomorrow, once Alistair got back and the divorce papers were signed, I would be a billionaire.

Was there anything in this world more exhilarating than getting filthy rich overnight? I started mentally planning my schedule.

I would humor his pregnant first love during the day, and hit the clubs every single night.

Honestly, with a billion dollars, I could just hire a whole lineup of muscled models to dance in my living room. Why even bother sneaking out? But that was for the future.

Right now, I needed to focus on immediate priorities. I should probably go on a massive shopping spree tomorrow morning.

I drifted into a deep sleep, literally drooling over my financial projections