I’m Divorcing with You Mr Billionaire! (Sydney and Mark) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven 

The cold night air hit my face as we both burst out of the door and the hairs on my arm stood erect. I was still grappling with the information that the bar owner was the one I had seen in my Villa. 

I had every right to call the police on him right now and maybe get this place searched. I mean, he had a gun that day but I had no evidence. I shivered, shak- ing the feeling that swept through me as I remembered the feel of the metal be- hind my back. 

Still lost in my thoughts, Mark pushed me into the car. He hastily and roughly fixed the seat belt around me as though I was some kid he needed to take home with immediacy. 

“Where are you taking me?!” I clumsily pulled at the belt as I threw the question at his moving figure. He went around the car. The car slightly shook as he climbed in and slammed the door closed. 

His face was set straight, staring ahead as he blatantly ignored all the ques- tions I threw at him. 

“Where are you taking me, Mark?!” I asked deadpan. 

“I’m taking you home! We’re going home!” He yelled. 

Just then, his phone lit up and the seat I was in vibrated. ‘Bella‘ was the name on display. 

I noticed that he stopped moving and I looked up to find his eyes on me. We were like that for several second, the vibrating hum of the phone the only sound 

in the car 

I broke whatever trance we were both in and scoffed, “Do you need me to get 

out of the car?” 

He did his favorite thing since I’ve known him; he ignored me. He snatched the 

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phone and fumbled with it for a while before he finally picked the call. He put 

the phone on speaker. 

I wondered why and rolled my eyes. To spite me? 

For a man that had his wits about him and was raving mad Just a moment ago, 

he sure was acting awkward. 

“Hey…” 

My head whipped to his face at the sound that came out of his m*uth. I didn’t think I had ever heard Mark speak so softly. It was almost like a breathless whis- per. Wow. This was more than I thought it was. He was seriously whipped. 

“Mark…” Bella’s weak voice boomed through the phone’s speaker. 

“Are you okay?” Mark half rose from his seat, his back rod straight. 

“I’m not, Mark,” her response was accompanied by a sob. “I just woke up. I was 

unconscious for a while and there was no one to tend to me.” 

Mark met my eyes then quickly looked away. 

“Look, Bel. I’m-” 

“Bel!” I scoffed, interrupting him. 

“Are you with someone?” Her voice suddenly sounded like steel. 

“Bel, I’m busy. Can you reach your phone? Call the emergency num-” he was ex- plaining softly but Bella’s cries interrupted him. 

“Mark. You have to come!” She whined. “I’m all alone in this lonely house and 

my ch*st hurts. I can barely breath,” her breathing suddenly sounded raspy. “Please, Mark. I need you here.” She added after a second’s silence, “I want you 

here. I want you to be the one to take me to the hospital.” 

“Be-” 

“What if I die here before the ambulance gets here?!” Her voice was sharp. “Are you already tired of me? Have you found another girl.” 

“Shh. I’ll never tire of you.” 

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“Then come! Promise me you’ll be here.” 

Mark ran fingers through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “I’ll be at your door in…” he trailed off as he checked his watch. “Give me ten minutes.” 

“Hurry babe. I feel like I’m dying. Your presence and arms around me will make a huge difference.” 

“Sure. I’ll be there. Just hang on.” 

He had barely ended the call when I let out a loud hiss and removed the seat belt from around me. I turned to open the door, but Mark’s hand on my shoulder 

stopped me. 

“Come on. Stay. Let’s go see Bella together.” 

Was this a joke?! I whirled around. “Over my dead b*dy!” I spat in his face. 

He flinched back, seeming surprised. “She’s your sister! And she is sick.” 

I met his gaze head on, “She might as well be dying,” I gritted out. “I don’t want to be involved in your sick and twisted relationship.” 

“This isn’t about our relationship or differences. This is about your sister’s 

health.” 

I fully turned to him but my hand was still on the car’s doorknob. “You know the world doesn’t revolve around you two, right? No one wants to see your disgust- 

ing loving dovey acts.” 

His phone lit up and Bella’s call came in again. His hand left my shoulder as he immediately picked up the call and that was my cue to leave. 

I stepped out of the car. Through the car’s winded down mirror, I saw him trap the phone between his ear and shoulder and simultaneously inserted the key in 

the ignition. 

A few seconds later, he dropped his phone and faced me, his hands were al- ready gripping the steering wheel, ready to zoom off to his lover. 

“This Sunday is your father’s birthday party. Wait for me at home, we’ll leave to- 

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gether!” He finished. Then he wound up his mirror and sped off. 

I watched in annoyance, irritation and disgust as his car swiftly disappeared in- to the dark of the night. 

“Get lost you asshole!” I flinched as Grace’s shout suddenly resounded in the night. I couldn’t stop the grin that marred my l*ps as she came forward and con- tinued to curse at him. 

“You’re disgusting! Go on. Go to your lover’s bed!” Grace screamed into the night. By now, Mark’s car was just a tiny light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Relax, girl,” I giggled and shook my head, “he definitely cannot hear you.” 

“He can,” she murmured, then turned to me, concern filled her eyes. “Are you 

okay?” 

I scoffed, “Why won’t I be?” 

“Don’t be fooled by his sweet talks, okay? He’ll only break your heart.” 

I laughed, “Mark doesn’t sweet talk.” I remembered the way he had gone mel- 

low when he was speaking with Bella. “At least not with me,” I added. “So your 

don’t have to get all sentimental. There’s no way he would break my heart with 

his sneers and shouts.” 

“Then he should keep sneering.” 

We both laughed. She wove her arms around my shoulder and we both strut- 

ted back toward the entrance of the bar. 

Grace sighed by my side, her warm breath softly tickled my ear. “It’s a pity, we didn’t get to see that handsome Italian guy again.” 

“Hmm…” I murmured. 

Then she chirped, an hopeful rise to her tone, “But it doesn’t matter. I asked the bartender about him and he said the guy owns this bar so we’ll definitely see 

him if we frequent here.” 

I skidded to a stop almost causing Grace to stumble forward. I had been half lis- 

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tening to her talk about the Italian guy but my ears had perked up when she said he owned the bar.