The Billionaire's Temptation: Love, Family and Revenge-Chapter 64: Rejection

The large, luxurious tub was spacious enough to fit at least three people, and Ford was stretched out inside it, his body half-submerged in the warm water. The sight of him, his muscles relaxed, his head tilted back, sent a thrill through her.

She took a deep breath, then stepped in. The warm water embraced her skin as she slowly lowered herself into the tub.

Meanwhile, Ford’s mind was elsewhere.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Elena. He missed her—ached for her. The image of her naked form filled his thoughts, tormenting him. It had been so long since he had felt the warmth of a woman’s body, and all he wanted now was to be with her.

As his body relaxed further, he let himself drift toward sleep, allowing thoughts of Elena to consume him.

But then—something pulled him back.

A soft kiss.

It landed gently on his neck, warm and delicate. A shiver ran through him.

Then another. And another.

The kisses trailed lower, brushing against his collarbone, then his chest. His breath hitched slightly as soft lips found his nipple, teasing it with slow, featherlight touches.

A moan slipped from his lips.

Then, lower still.

A sudden jolt of pleasure shot through him as warmth surrounded his manhood. His body tensed, and his eyes snapped open as he groaned deeply.

He didn’t know what was happening—but he wanted more.

Was he dreaming?

"Elena," Ford murmured, his voice husky and low.

Hearing him say her name, Sia froze. A sharp pang of jealousy surged through her, twisting in her chest like a knife. How could he still be thinking of her? Anger burned beneath her skin, but she swallowed it down. This wasn’t the time to react.

Instead, she moved.

Spreading her legs, she shifted forward, pushing herself onto his lap. Her bare skin pressed against his, the heat of his body making her shudder with anticipation.

"Elena..." Ford groaned again, his hands moving instinctively.

Before Sia could even process what was happening, Ford’s lips crashed against hers. His mouth was demanding, devouring her with a hunger that stole her breath. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her against him.

A victorious smile curled on Sia’s lips. He missed Elena—he wanted Elena—but something in his movements faltered.

The scent was different. The moans were different, yet oddly familiar. The touch—bold, unrestrained—was nothing like Elena’s soft, hesitant caresses.

Ford’s body responded on instinct, but somewhere in the back of his mind, doubt flickered.

Sia didn’t care. She was too lost in the moment, too caught up in finally having him again.

"Yes, baby, don’t stop," she moaned, her voice thick with desire.

Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his hardness. He was already painfully stiff in her hands, and the feeling sent another wave of pleasure through her. She guided him toward her, rubbing herself against him, desperate to feel him inside her again.

And then—

"Sia!"

Ford’s eyes snapped open.

The haze of pleasure shattered in an instant as his gaze focused, and realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

Sia. Not Elena.

His hands froze. His body tensed beneath hers.

A heavy silence filled the air as shock rippled across his face.

Sia’s breath hitched as she guided Ford toward her, their bodies just inches apart. But just as she was about to pull him inside her, Ford abruptly pulled away, wrenching himself from her grasp.

His expression darkened, anger and pain flashing across his face. His chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides.

"How dare you?!" he growled, his voice thick with rage.

His eyes burned with emotion, and he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer. Turning away, he stepped out of the bathtub, his movements stiff and hurried. Reaching for a stack of neatly folded towels, he tossed one at her before wrapping another tightly around his waist.

"Get out. Now!" His voice was firm, cutting through the charged air like a blade. Without waiting for her response, he stormed out of the bathroom, leaving Sia alone in the steaming silence.

Her heart clenched. Tears welled in her eyes as she sat motionless in the tub, her body aching not just from desire but from the sharp sting of rejection.

She had been so close.

If only she had kept quiet, if only she had held back her pleasure, he would have been inside her by now. And once that happened, she would have had leverage over him.

But now... she had lost her chance.

"Ah, fuck it," she muttered bitterly, her frustration bubbling over.

Grabbing the towel he had thrown at her, she wrapped it around her damp skin and stepped out of the tub. Water dripped from her hair as she walked into the bedroom, where Ford was hurriedly pulling on his boxers and a shirt, his back turned to her.

She scoffed, shaking her head.

"Are you really that desperate to hide yourself from me?" she asked, her voice laced with sadness. "It’s not like we haven’t been intimate before."

Her words hung in the air, but Ford remained silent. He focused on buttoning his shirt, his jaw tight, his hands slightly trembling.

He didn’t want to acknowledge her.

Guilt gnawed at him, making it impossible to meet her gaze.

Sia’s chest tightened. The silence, the avoidance—it was too much. Desperate, she rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back.

"Ford, please," she whispered, clinging to him.

His body tensed. For a brief second, he stood still, as if debating whether to give in. But then, his anger flared.

With a sudden force, he pushed her away, sending her stumbling onto the bed.

"Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?!" he roared, his voice raw with fury.

Sia’s eyes widened in shock.

"We are done! You made that fucking clear, remember?" he thundered, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. "I moved on with my life!"

Sia swallowed hard, staring up at him, her heart pounding.

The man before her wasn’t the same one she once knew.

Ford didn’t spare her a glance. His fingers moved stiffly as he buttoned his shirt, his expression unreadable. He pulled on his trousers, straightening them before running a hand through his damp hair.

He was almost at the door when he heard it.

Soft, broken sobs.

His steps faltered. Slowly, he turned, his gaze falling on Sia, curled up on the bed, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook with each quiet cry.

"I just miss you," she whispered through her tears. "Can’t you forgive me? I just want to be loved by you."

Her voice was so small, so fragile, that Ford felt something inside him crack.

He swallowed hard, his heart twisting painfully. For a moment, he allowed himself to look at her—really look at her. He had once loved Sia with everything in him. She had been his world. And part of him still held onto those memories, the warmth, the passion they once shared.

But love wasn’t just about memories.

He had moved on. He had fallen for someone else—Elena. And no matter how much Sia cried or begged, he couldn’t let himself be pulled back into her grasp.

She had made her choice long ago.

"Sia," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "I’m sorry. But you made your choice back then. Please, stick to it."

Sia lifted her head, her tear-streaked face full of disbelief.

She had expected him to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her like he used to. She had expected forgiveness.

But all she got was words.

Her chest tightened. Desperation clawed at her as she searched for something—anything—to make him stay.

"Then why?" she choked out. "Why do you still keep my gift on your wall? If you don’t love me anymore, why is it still there?"

Ford clenched his jaw.

His eyes darkened as he turned away, refusing to let her see the emotions swirling inside him.

"It’s a reminder," he said firmly. "A reminder of your betrayal. Not a symbol of my love."

His words hit her like a slap.

Sia gasped, her lips parting, but no words came.

She had expected anger. She had expected distance. But she hadn’t expected him to erase their love so completely.

Ford turned back to the door, ready to leave. But just before he could take another step, she blurted out the question that had been eating at her.

"Do you love her?"

He stopped.

For a long moment, there was silence.

Then, slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes steady, his voice firm.

"Sia," he said, looking her straight in the eyes. "I’m in love with her. I have taken my love back from you, and I want to give it to her."

His words left no room for doubt.

Sia felt her heart shatter into pieces.

"Never! You can’t take it back! Never!!" Sia screamed, her voice raw with desperation.

Tears streamed down her face as she clenched her fists. But Ford didn’t waver. His expression remained cold, his decision final.

"Leave when you’re dressed," he said, his voice firm. "And please... don’t come back."

With that, he turned away, shutting the door behind him without a second glance.

Silence filled the room.

Sia wiped her tears with the towel, her hands trembling. But then, something changed. A slow, eerie smile spread across her lips. And then, suddenly, she laughed.

It wasn’t a laugh of joy—it was one of amusement, of defiance.

Still chuckling to herself, she picked up her phone and walked over to his wardrobe. Pulling out one of his shirts, she slipped it on, inhaling his familiar scent. It was oversized on her, hanging loosely around her frame.

She strolled to the bed, grabbing a pillow from where he had slept just hours ago. Pressing it against her chest for a brief moment, she then tossed it back onto the bed with a smirk.

Her gaze shifted toward the wall.

The portrait—her gift—still hung there.

Tilting her head, she took a step closer and snapped a photo of herself in front of it, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Sia let out another laugh, tossing her phone onto the bed for a moment as she pulled off Ford’s shirt. She slipped back into her own clothes, smoothing them down before grabbing her bag.

Walking toward the door, she took one last look around his room, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Let’s see how well you love her... in chaos."

With a final chuckle, she swung her bag over her shoulder and walked out, closing the door behind in anger.