Marry My Billionaire Second Husband

"Amelia?"

Amelia stiffened when she heard the familiar voice call out her name through the door. It greatly muffled the speaker, but with how she was nearly plastered against the wall, she could still catch it.

There was a short chuckle, followed by a harrumph of disgust.

"She's nothing more than a loyal dog."

Instantly, her blood chilled in her veins. Amelia could recognize that voice anywhere. After all, they had spent countless nights entangled with each other, with him moaning her name. Only, she had never heard her name spoken with such coldness and nonchalance.

"Man, that's harsh," a bark of laughter came from inside, followed by many others. "She's still your wife, Caleb! Or are you planning to divorce her now that the heiress of Friesent Corp is back?"

Amelia's hands began to tremble as she bit down on her bottom lip.

No, this must be a coincidence. She had a common name, and her husband did too. There was a high chance that there must be a different couple in Sol City with the same names they did.

Right?

"Are you still toying with her?" another man asked from inside the room, someone Amelia didn't recognize. To be fair, she recognized none of them. Caleb had never let her meet his friends and hardly ever mentioned them by name. "She's your wife. One day, you'll have to come clean with her that you're the future heir of W&W Industries. You can't keep her in the dark forever."

"Don't you know, Benji? Until she has proven herself, she will never know the man she truly married," someone said. There were a lot more snickers but they were slowly drowned out by the rapid thundering of Amelia's heart. "The great Mr. Caleb Walton thinks that his wife is a gold digger!"

"And she is nothing but a foolish bitch to not figure out Caleb's identity even after all this while!"

More laughter rang from inside the room, and Amelia soon found it difficult to stand upright. Her knees felt wobbly and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. That name was the final nail in the coffin.

She looked down at the diamond ring on her finger, the stone painfully small. Back then, Caleb had said that he hadn't any money to buy her a proper ring and that when his business flourished, he would replace this tiny gemstone with a big diamond, one she could boast about.

Amelia could still remember the way her heart fluttered at his words back then. She hadn't cared about the size of the gemstone and was just happy that she would now be able to live with her best friend and partner in crime.

Through the dark, grueling days of poverty and struggle, their wedding vows had given her so much strength to get through to the next day. Everything had been for Caleb's startup company― ever since they got married, Amelia had worked tirelessly day after day, her wages sent directly to Caleb's card.

Was it all a lie?

"What are you doing here?"

Amelia jumped in her skin when she heard that sharp bark, spinning around with her hand to her chest to see her manager, Nigel, standing right behind her. He gestured at the door, spit erupting from his lips as he spoke.

"Get back to work! Room 58 has been waiting for their beverages for the last half an hour!" He glowered at her, taking a menacing step forward. "One more daydream and I am docking your pay, Kentwood."

Adjusting his facial expression, he walked past Amelia, making sure to knock against her shoulder harshly before pushing the door open. Amelia paled when she looked up and realized the number etched into the bronze plate outside the door she had been eavesdropping.

"Mr. Walton," Nigel said from inside the room. Amelia could already hear the sickly sweet smile in his voice, no doubt eager to please. "So sorry for the delay. Your wine is here."

"Well, hurry up then!" one of Caleb's friends yelled from inside. "We've been waiting forever!"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Rutherford― What on earth are you standing there for?" Nigel's voice was a hushed, frantic murmur as he desperately tried to wave Amelia into the room.

She collected herself, sucked in a deep breath, and lowered her head before scuttling into the room. Just stepping in, through her peripheral vision, she caught sight of the man she shared a bed with― only, she couldn't even recognize him.

On an average day, she could see Caleb in nothing more than an old t-shirt and a pair of worn-down jeans. Perhaps whenever he was about to go out for work, he would don a nicer suit, but it was never something that cost more than what could be bought at the local department store.

Now, even just from one glance, Amelia could smell the way he reeked of money. Caleb's expression was cold, nothing like the usual warm smile he always wore. He had one leg crossed over the other, his expensive dress shoes practically glistening under the dim lighting as he rested his chin against his knuckles. He barely even paid her any attention― and why would he?

Amelia was dressed in the club's uniform and her hair was a greasy mess after working the entire day. She was sure she still stank like the oil from the fast food restaurant she worked at for her last shift.

"Have you heard, Caleb?" one of the men said, ignoring Nigel and Amelia as they began to serve the wine. "Kelsie Friesent is back. Rumor on the street is that she is eager to rekindle the romance between you two."

"They broke up years ago," another said, sneering. "And if I recall, Kelsie was the one to break it off. Caleb is married now."

"That doesn't mean he can't get a divorce," said the first man with a laugh. "So what's it going to be, Caleb? You can't possibly have caught feelings for that mangy street dog, have you?"

"Me? Catch feelings for her?" Caleb said.

The moment he spoke, Amelia's movements paused as an instinctive bodily reaction. Her breath caught in her throat and her movements stilled. Even Nigel turned to look at her with alarm, nodding at the wine glasses subtly as though trying to pull her out of her reverie, but to no avail.

"Doesn't she work hard to get money for your fake startup?" one of Caleb's friends laughed. "Where else can you find such a loyal wife?"

"Say, Caleb, if you're actually tired of her, mind sharing her with me?" another said, much to the delight of the men present.

"Go ahead," Caleb said nonchalantly, a ghost of a smile in his voice. "I'm just about sick of her anyway."

"Are you sure you want her?" one teased. "Who knows how she earned all that money? She might be just about as used as a dirty kitchen rag at this point―"

That man was cut off by the sound of a shatter. Bits of glass flew everywhere and everyone present was startled where they were, turning their attention to the poor girl who kneeled in front of the tables, a smashed wine bottle in her hand.