In Love With My Billionaire Husband

Serena Mclane's P.O.V

I toss and turn in bed countless amount of times, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in but I'm still not satisfied.

I let out a groan, finally giving up with trying to sleep.

I know it's because of my nagging thoughts that are contributing to my lack of sleep, more than anything else.

My mind flashes back to day before yesterday, when the Stryker's had come over.

I remember how I was rooted in place due to shock but as soon as I could get my legs moving, I had.

Entering into the living room, I was severely disappointed to find out that Damien had left.

He apparently had some important, unattended business he had to get too.

Just that had made my nerves spike up but luckily no one had said anything.

Not even that night or the one after did my father say anything derogatory to me.

Instead he let me be and hadn't uttered a word.

However that just makes me even more worried.

I adjust my pillow, as I sink down into its softness, trying to find some sort of comfort.What if Dad is just doing this so that I lower my guard? I keep telling myself that I'm being absurd and over thinking everything but I can't help it.

Any one of the Stryker's can be downstairs right now, complaining about what I said the other day.

How I tattled like a small little girl.

One side of me- probably the much wiser one— is scared to the core thinking that Damien will tell his parents who in turn will tell mine and stir up even more trouble for me, while the other part- the one that doesn't listen to her brain much— completely trusts the man she's only talked to once.

Most of that conversation was one sided.

Finally giving up on my much awaited sleep, I sit up in bed and let out a low agonising groan.

Why do I have to lose precious sleep over such troubling thoughts? Why can't I just not care about my future and let it lead me blindly while I somehow manage to stumble and stagger along.

Doing the exact same thing- stumbling and staggering might I add- I head to the bathroom and turn the tap on, splashing water onto my face.

Maybe a shower will help me brighten up? Though I highly doubt so.

By the time I walk down to the kitchen, breakfast is being served and father is sitting in his usual seat, reading the stock market section of the newspaper.

"Morning."

I mumble as I trudge to my own designated area.

As every morning goes, I only get a chirpy ‘Morning’ from my mother while my father ignores my existence.

It's such a nice thought that I'm going to be the one saving his name and bringing it into a new light by not only taking over the company but also marrying someone like the Stryker's.

It's nice to be appreciated sometimes.

I mentally snort at my own thoughts but calm myself down at the sight of my full breakfast fry up.

Thanking my mum, it doesn't take me long to devour all my food.

I'm a ravenous mess but that fact never changes.

By the time I'm done and sipping on my coffee, my father puts his newspaper down and looks me dead in the eyes.

"Meet me in the study.We need to talk."

take over and it feel

follow

leave the room, I catch my mothers eye only

least

good news as it can

room, I scan my surroundings as

Everything looks the same.

walls

outer walls filled with various books, all about

desk lies right in the middle with papers

the stiff uncomfortable seats as

doesn't last long as it always does when

talked

My father says.

freeze in place though

"And?"

I question, acting oblivious.

father pauses as he

needs as he nods

murder Damien Stryker in cold blood! How dare he? Thinking a thousand bad thoughts at

"Vivian!"

He calls.

I meet his

"Yes father?"

try to say in the most pleasant tone

have decided to

so you both can get to know

exactly does that

so I can

like I expected

getting married so soon, you

that? Wouldn't I just get on his nerves? I'd never

"By substantial you mean?"

what that actually entails and just the thought of

Damien as soon

today, it maybe

advice you to go and pack

falls open as I

I find myself nodding, and before I know it, I'm

they slowly start to fade behind clouds, I

can't believe I have

to think of the imminent situation

days before he finally comes to whisk me away.However from the little interaction I've had with him, I know that he isn't the sort of

my room and then out

me to the back

on the overgrown flora, I relax as I take a

thinking of all the memories I have here makes me feel

natural right? Everyone feels sentimental when they

a part of life and I need to grow the heck

stop the memories from entering

eyed and yet still

like

fond and cherished memories are of how my father and I used to come here every single day

this place didn't seem so desolate and void

me up in his arms and run to

used to be our little bonding

incredibly angry but she was going through her ‘hormonal teenager’ phase and acted as if everything