Game of Love and Deception: The Billionaire's Ex Wife
Chapter 73: Surrendering

Chapter 73: Surrendering

Every night in my dreams

I see you, I feel you

That is how I know you go on...

Ashley hated how true the lyrics were. Like Celine held a mirror to her soul as she uttered each word.

She stared into her glass. Her tolerance for alcohol had always been low, but tonight, she didn’t care. She wanted to forget—forget the world, the hurt, and the way life had stolen everyone she’s ever loved.

Far across the distance

And spaces between us

You have come to show you go on...

She sang off key, holding her phone close to her mouth, imagining it was a microphone, and that she was performing.

More missed calls from Lorenzo flashed on the screen, but she ignored them. He’d be frantic, no doubt, but he’d survive.

Rising to her feet, she slowly twirled, letting the melody carry her. She was once a ballerina, so movement had never been her problem. Though she never found the courage to continue after her parent’s death.

The vodka sloshed in her glass as she raised it in the air, sipping between verses. Her voice, faint and breathy, once more joined Celine’s.

Near, far, wherever you are...

Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks freely. She was alone in the room, and for once, it didn’t scare her. She didn’t want anyone—especially not Lorenzo—seeing her like this. Raw. Cracked open. Grieving. She’d been strong for far too long.

Tonight, she was exhausted. She wanted to let herself fall apart. To feel all of the hurt.

And you’re here in my heart

And my heart will go on and on...

She saw her little angel then—at least in her mind’s eye. A child in a bright pink dress, red curls tied in bouncing pigtails, beaming up with a smile that could melt the coldest heart. Was she somewhere, singing Happy Birthday in that tiny, sweet, angelic voice?

Love was when I loved you

One true time I’d hold to...

Maybe she was blowing out candles, surrounded by people who loved her. The thought brought a brief, wistful smile to Ashley’s lips. She clung to it, refusing to let the darker thoughts slip in. Refusing to let the illusion diffuse.

They had to know it was her special day. Right?

The ache deepened, and the weight of her misery threatened to suffocate her. She poured another glass, even as the room tilted and the colors around her started to bleed together. Her body swayed unsteadily as she raised her drink in the air for a toast.

"Happy birthday, my darling, darling angel," she whispered with a giggle before bringing the glass to her lips.

Another sip and her balance betrayed her. The room spun, and she tipped forward, the glass slipping from her grasp and shattering on the floor. But before she could crash along with it, strong arms caught her—arms that felt both familiar and safe.

The familiar scent of damp earth and spice enveloped her, soothing and unmistakable.

Lorenzo.

Ashley’s gaze slowly lifted, locking with those amber eyes that had always unraveled her.

Her lips trembled.

"Ashley," he called, voice strained, expression shadowed with worry.

"I knew you’d... come... for me," she slurred softly, her fingers tracing the furrow in his brow as if her touch could ease the tension etched there.

Without another word, Lorenzo gathered her in his arms, and she giggled, overcome by the rush of emotion and drunken haze. Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

It was brief, featherlight, but it lit something inside her—a hunger she had fought to suppress since the day he’d nearly taken her on that office desk.

Lorenzo froze. His eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either.

His lips—soft, warm, and tasting faintly of sin—felt more intoxicating than any drink she’d had. Her hands curled around his neck as her head lulled closer, her lashes heavy.

"And I hate..." she whispered, the sentence unfinished, her voice fading into a breathy sigh.

Lorenzo’s eyes locked with hers, emotions swirling in their amber depths—complex, unreadable—before he shut them briefly, then reopened them with a softened expression. It was a subtle shift, but it melted something in Ashley. There was something endearingly vulnerable about it.

Earlier, she’d meant to say she hated him. But now, she wasn’t sure anymore. Whether it was the lingering heat of the kiss or the haze of alcohol coursing through her system, she couldn’t tell. But being in Lorenzo’s arms always felt right—safe, even. Like she belonged there.

An urge stirred in her again, to kiss him. This time, deeply. She wanted to forget herself in those lips, to taste every inch of him until she was drunk on something better than alcohol.

She leaned in once more, lips parting slightly, grazing against Lorenzo’s, chasing the magnetism between them.

"Ashley, stop. You’re drunk," he murmured, his voice husky and low, almost pained. "Please..." he added, a raw plea, as though denying her cost him something.

But Ashley didn’t want to stop. She craved the sensation more—his mouth on hers, that fleeting warmth that makes her forget everything. She stubbornly leaned closer again.

Lorenzo turned his face away just in time, his hands gently but firmly holding her at a distance. "Ash...no. Not like this... please," he said, his voice laced with restraint and something deeper—something aching. He couldn’t help but wonder if she always turned to alcohol whenever she encountered a problem.

Ashley’s expression crumpled in quiet confusion, lips curling into a pout as she blinked up at him. She thought he’d always wanted her, why then was he refusing her now? Was it the taste of vodka on her breath?

She tried once more, forcefully this time. But when Lorenzo still gently denied her again, she gave up with a quiet sigh.

"Why do you always save me?" she resorted to asking in a soft, broken tone.

His gaze met hers again, and this time, it held only warmth. "Because you’re always in trouble, sunshine," he said, his voice tender and low. "Now stop talking and let me take you home."

Ashley gave a faint nod, like a child surrendering to sleep.

Her body relaxed against his, no longer resisting. She closed her eyes as darkness wrapped itself around her, and for once, it wasn’t frightening. It was warm, like the embrace of the man holding her. And in that warmth, she let herself drift.

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