Drunk on victory and liquor, Rio tightened his grip on Bethany, his laughter loud and unrestrained. “She’s been clinging to me for six years like a desperate mutt, wagging her tail for a scrap of attention. It’s pathetic.”
Bethany pouted playfully, mischief glinting in her eyes. “If she finds out you're spending the night with me, what will you do? Think she’ll throw a fit?”
Rio scoffed, his expression darkening with contempt. “She wouldn’t dare. Marrying me is the best thing that ever happened to her. If she tries to cause trouble, I’ll make sure she’s blacklisted from the entertainment industry.”
Bethany giggled, trailing her fingers down his chest. “I adore you,” she purred before pressing her lips to his in a slow, sultry kiss.
The noise of the private lounge drowned out the faint vibration of Rio’s phone.
He didn’t notice it. He didn’t care.
Later that night, Bethany carefully selected a photo. In it, she nestled against Rio’s side like a delicate bird, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. In his other hand, he held up a glass of champagne, his face alight with smug victory.
The rest of his team surrounded them, grinning and cheering, celebrating his latest championship win. The energy of the moment was electric.
The caption read: “Celebrating another winning of R. So proud of you!”
The moment she posted it, the internet erupted.
“Rio and Bethany look so perfect together. When’s the official announcement?”
“OMG! The way he looks at her—I’m swooning!”
“I knew it! There’s no way these two weren’t secretly together!”
Bethany smirked at the flood of comments, replying with a coy emoji before tagging Rio’s account. Within seconds, his like appeared.
By morning, every major gossip site had splashed their faces across their front pages.
[Racing champion Rio Beasley caught in late-night rendezvous with rising star Bethany—romance confirmed?]
[Speculation ends: Beasley and Arterton’s intimate celebration ignites dating rumors!]
The comment sections buzzed with excitement, some offering congratulations, others spewing outrage and many simply there for the drama.
***
The harsh morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, piercing through Rio’s pounding hangover. Groaning, he massaged his temples, but the warmth of the woman beside him made up for his discomfort.
Leaning over, he pressed a lazy kiss to Bethany’s forehead before grabbing his phone to check the time.
A single message from me popped up on the screen: [Let’s get divorce.]
He barely spared it a glance, assuming it was another one of my tantrums. Six years together and I had pulled every trick in the book to keep his attention—why would this time be any different?
Bethany stirred, stretching her toned arms before wrapping them around his neck. “Who sends message this early? They’re ruining my beauty sleep.”
Rio’s fingers lazily traced circles on her bare back. “Just insignificant block with too much time on their hands.”
By noon, he returned to the villa, expecting to find me sulking like always. Instead, I was neatly folding my clothes, placing them carefully into a suitcase.
He stopped cold. The haze of alcohol finally lifted, replaced by something sharper—confusion and a faint irritation.
“What are you doing?” I didn’t look up. My voice was steady, emotionless. “I’ve drafted the divorce papers. If you have no objections, sign them.”
My words hit him like a detonated landmine.
In an instant, he closed the distance between us, ripping the clothes from my hands and throwing them to the floor.
“Divorce?” His voice was low, dangerous. “What kind of stunt are you pulling now? Don’t play games with me.”
