Billionaire Defiant Wife

Evan stares at her with a look of deep significance and casually says, "I don't mind."

He gently tugs her hair, forcing her to lean down close to him. He grasps her waist with his other hand and holds her tightly. As she struggles to get away from him, he holds her more firmly against the body.

"Stop moving unless you want to cause problems for yourself," he commands, then his voice turns rougher, "Or maybe you're eager for me to put a baby in you."

She can feel his growing excitement, "You're too sensitive, Mr. Howel—it takes next to nothing to get you in the mood."

"This is because of you."

He means what he says. Avery alone has the ability to get him to get hard. He bites her earlobe vaguely and watches her hide her face against his chest, smelling the scent of her hair with satisfaction.

"Pervert," she murmurs.

She feels too feeble to struggle again and begins to fall asleep in his arms. She sleeps through the night, warm and peaceful against his body.

In the morning, Evan slips out of bed and heads to the dressing room. Under the Swarovski crystal chandelier, a row of limited-edition watches shines in a glass cabinet. Evan takes glances at them, selects a vintage Patek Philippe watch and puts it on his wrist. Robert opens the necktie cabinet to let his boss choose.

"Give me my phone," Evan commands. 

He stands in front of the full-length mirror, clasping the wristwatch. Robert hurriedly hands over the phone, but Evan doesn't take it or look at it.

"Check Facebook," he orders coldly.

Evan only has a few friends. He guards his privacy carefully and has no interest in the petty stories and silly photos people post. Besides, people as powerful as they have better things to do than check Facebook.

Robert catches on quickly to Evan's true intentions.

"You haven't added Avery yet. Do you want to add her? Her profile is only visible to her friends on Facebook."

"Yes, but I'm going to do it from the company account."

Evan takes his phone, unlocks the screen and quickly finds Avery's account. After waiting for a few minutes, his face darkens, "Why is there no reply?"

Robert thinks Mr. Howel is asking him and explains quickly, "Maybe Avery is still sleeping."

Evan squints his eyes and remembers holding her in his arms all night. Her hair was entwined around his fingers, giving off a faint and captivating fragrance. He found it difficult to sleep.

When he got up he moved carefully to avoid waking her, and he told the servant to let her sleep until she woke up naturally.

Hours later, he is sitting at his desk at work when Robert enters.

"Mr. Howel, Miss Summer made a post on Facebook."

Robert hands him a phone and Evan glances at the screen and reads, "It's all my fault. I accidentally ruined the dress at the charity dinner, and I tripped down the stairs by myself. I never should have framed you. I'm sorry to Avery Peters"

Though the post is only a few minutes old, there are dozens of comments. Uninterested in reading the comments, Evan deletes Leonie from his friend list and looks at his private phone.

"Is she still sleeping?" he asks.

Robert enters something on his phone and waits for a reply. His phone rings and he answers, "The maid said she just woke up and took her medicine. Now she's checking her phone."

"Checking her phone?"

"Yes. The maid says Mrs. Howel is checking her email and the news. She probably hasn't seen Miss Summer's post on Facebook yet."

Evan's phone beeps and his ferocious eyes suddenly brighten. She must have seen his friend request and accepted it. He checks his phone to find that she has declined his request and his eyes darken.

"Declined? How dare she decline me?" he thinks.

He clasps the phone so tightly his knuckles go white. He sends another friend request from the company and follows it with a private message including his name. Avery replies quickly, "I don't know you!"

Evan slams the phone down onto the table, startling Robert.

"Mr. Howel has on his phone this morning more often than he has in the past month!" Robert thinks, "When he had breakfast, he stared at the phone screen as if it were an enemy. He checked the phone throughout the entire ride to work. Even as he was answering the public phone, he was looking at his private phone. All morning he's been distracted from work by his phone."

Robert wonders why his boss is behaving so strangely. "Maybe he's waiting for some important phone call or has some sort of urgent matter to attend to," Robert speculates.

Evan frowns severely and responds to Avery's message, "It's your husband."

Avery's response is quick, "Screw you!"

He throws the phone to Robert, "Find a way to add her. Otherwise, acquire the app somehow."

"Add who?"

"Who else would I want to add?" he asks and a blaze of anger flashes across his face. He has thousands of pending friend requests and ignores them all. He's never been rejected like this before.

Robert takes the phone and runs to the company's IT department. By the time he reaches the department he's gasping for breath. The manager of the IT department takes the phone with trembling hands and Robert explains Evan's request. He's astonished that anyone would dare to decline Mr. Howel's friend request, let alone his wife.

The head of the IT department knows that Evan's rage is serious. If his team fails, they may all be fired. He asks two of his best programmers to try to hack Avery's account and accept Evan's request.

Back at the Howel manor, Avery takes her medicine and reaches for a piece of cheese offered to her by one of the maids. Right before she pops it into her mouth, she suddenly drops it back onto the plate.

"Mrs. Howel, is the food not to your taste?" the maid asks worriedly.

The maid holds the tray and watches her mistress carefully. Recently, Mrs. Howel's behavior has been unpredictable and it's making the servants uncomfortable.

For the past few days, Avery has insisted on cooking for herself. The maid knows that wealthy people often decide to cook on a sudden impulse but usually they give up after one or two tries. Mrs. Howel has now cooked several meals and is refusing to touch her favorite cheese.

Avery lifts up the quilt to get up, slips her small feet into her slippers, and walks to the French windows. She looks out the window: bodyguards surround the perimeter of the manor. Every five minutes they exchange places with each other.

"Mrs. Howel?" the maid prompts.

Avery stretches, "Do we have eggs in the kitchen? I want to have a quiche today."

"Yes, I'll tell the cook to make you one," the maid says brightly.

"Did I say the cook should make it?"

"No," the maid stares at her feet, dejectedly.

"I'll make it myself. If Mr. Howel asks what I'm doing, tell him that I'm making quiche for him."

"I'm sure Mr. Howel will appreciate your consideration," the maid says.

Avery smiles shrewdly and takes her phone from the bed. The screen shows that she has a new Facebook notification: it's Leonie's apology. There are hundreds of comments below the post from Leonie's celebrity friends.

"OMG, what is Leonie talking about? How can she apologize to a scheming little bitch?" writes one commenter.

"Leonie's account must have been hacked by this bitch," writes another, "Damn, how can she be so cheeky? She's shameless even when she tries to fix her image."

"Maybe she has some sort of dirt on Leonie," writes another, "Leonie must have been threatened."

All of the comments have the same incredulous tone; no one believes that Avery is innocent.

Avery heads downstairs to the kitchen. She doesn't care what people believe, nor does she want to explain herself to anyone. She wanted to make Leonie apologize as a power play; she doesn't care what people actually think or say about her.

"How petty they all are!" she thinks, "They claim to care about Leonie, but they're just hungry for more gossip."

Avery starts to close the app, but her phone beeps with new notification and a message appears on her screen: "You and Evan Howel are now friends on Facebook."

She stops suddenly and the maid following her stops too.

"What does this mean?" Avery thinks, "I've declined him many times."