Cold Billionaire: Obsessed After Divorce

Nora Adams never thought Steven York would show up today.

They had been married for three months, but she could count on one hand the times she had actually seen him.

She stood in a white spaghetti-strap nightgown, holding a glass of water and scrolling through her phone; in the dim light her slender figure seemed to glow.

Suddenly the door burst open with a bang.

Nora jumped at the sound, startled. Her husband had been missing for a month. She never expected him to suddenly appear without warning..

A man in a suit staggered in, clearly drunk.

He was about 6'2" and carried a mature masculine charm that was hard to ignore.

"What are you doing?" Steven asked from the doorway, his voice smooth and cultured.

His features were striking, with deep-set eyes that drew you in, making it hard to look away.

Nora's heart raced. He was just too handsome!

One more look and she would be blushing uncontrollably.

"I'm drinking water," Nora replied softly, avoiding his gaze.

"Drinking water?" Steven took a long stride toward her.

His cool hand landed on her waist; with a startled yelp, she was pulled into his broad chest. "Steven—"

Steven glanced at her nightgown, noticed she wore nothing underneath, and chuckled lightly. "Dressed like this, trying to seduce me, huh?"

The word "seduce" rolled off his tongue, making her blush deeper as she lowered her long lashes. "Steven, you're drunk,"

He wasn't usually like this.

He rarely smiled and always seemed aloof.

Whenever he came home, he was usually drunk, would crash for the night, and leave; he was always busy, constantly traveling for business and rarely at home.

"Yeah, I am drunk," he murmured. "I want some honey water."

"I'll make it for you." Nora's legs felt weak at his gentle tone.

What was up with him today?

"Steven, why don't you sit on the couch for a bit while I make you some honey water?"

Steven shook his head, a hint of fatigue in his eyes. "No, my head hurts."

"Your head hurts again? Let me take you to the bedroom to lie down. Come on, I'll give you a head massage." Nora helped him toward the master bedroom.

The master bedroom was Steven's; she stayed in the guest room.

Steven had said they would not share a room until they had feelings for each other.

"Steven, lie down." Nora helped the tall man into the room.

Once he was on the bed, Steven's hand—with its defined knuckles, grabbed her, as they both tumbled onto the bed.

Steven ended up on top.

Nora lay beneath him.

The position felt intimate.

Nora's eyes widened as she stared up at Steven's handsome, refined face. He was so good-looking it made her dizzy.

"Steven, what are you doing?" Nora asked, flustered, pushing against his chest, her cheeks flushed.

"What's this?" Steven's hand moved to her waist, pinching lightly.

Nora was mortified!

That was her belly!

Steven kept pinching, trying to lift her nightgown for a better look. "Why do you have a belly? Are you pregnant?"

He was babbling nonsense, half-asleep.

Nora swatted away his restless hand in embarrassment. "That's just my belly."

Did he really think a little extra weight meant she was pregnant?

Was it that noticeable?

It was only a bit of extra weight, okay?

Besides, they hadn't even consummated their marriage—where would a baby come from?

"Steven, let go of me. I'll make you some honey water!" Nora said, realizing the position was too risky.

She needed to break the intimacy.

If anything happened, she feared Steven would accuse her of taking advantage of him the next day!

"Don't you like me?" Steven's gaze bore down on her, his eyes hazy yet deeply beautiful.

Nora couldn't look away.

Did she like him?

She could not say she liked him, but she did not dislike him either.

Steven had given her a home when she had nowhere to go.

"I—" Nora licked her lips, about to speak, but Steven had already let her go and turned onto his side.

He curled up, hugging himself; his profile under his hairline looked both incredibly sexy and incredibly distant.

They said people who slept like that lack a sense of security and were highly defensive.

Nora watched him for a while.

Steven had returned to his usual unapproachable self, his back to her, not saying another word.

Nora's heart twisted. She wanted to reach out to him but didn't dare, as they weren't that close.

Honestly, she didn't even know why Steven had married her.

At that time her grandfather had liver cancer, and Nora had spent all her money on his surgery.

Her grandfather had always been good to her, but her family didn't understand; they thought she was wasting money on a dying man and kicked her out.

She was homeless with only two hundred dollars, dragging a suitcase through the streets at night.

A car stopped, and Steven opened the door, looking like a god as he asked her, "Would you marry me?"

Nora was stunned.

She agreed because she felt she had nothing left to lose.

Looking back, she thought she had been brave; if Steven had been a conman, getting into his car might have cost her life.

Luckily he was not a conman. He brought her to an apartment in Riverside, and the next day they were married.

Steven set three rules.

First: no physical relationship until they loved each other.

Second: don't ask about his whereabouts.

Third: don't pry into his privacy.

Morning came.

There were sounds of breakfast being made, and Steven lay in bed, frowning in irritation. "So noisy!"

Nora was in the kitchen making breakfast.

She liked cooking.

Hearing Steven's voice, she pushed open the bedroom door, her face lighting up with a bright smile. "Sorry, I was making milk, Did I wake you?"

She closed the door.

A moment later the door opened again.

Steven, a light sleeper, had been pushed to the edge by the sound of her footsteps.

He suddenly opened his eyes.

His dark, obsidian-like eyes stared coldly at her.

Nora placed a bowl of hangover soup on the bedside table.

Noticing his gaze, she turned; her pretty face glowing in the morning light.

Her eyes were large, with amber-colored irises— very beautiful.

But Steven's gaze was predatory.

Nora was startled. "Sorry, Steven—I just wanted to bring you some hangover soup. You drank a lot last night, and I was worried you'd have a headache this morning, so I made you some. Remember to drink it."

Steven glanced at the hangover soup on the bedside table.

Every time he came home drunk, Nora would massage his head and make hangover soup.

Her kindness was as bright as the morning sun.

But it felt a bit fake.

Last night Steven had decided he was going to divorce her.