Mr Billionaire's Unwanted Wife

Chapter 16 love in Paris

I left the car once Jordan unlocked the door.

The beautiful private jet in front of me had the words CAMPBELL EMPIRES inscribed across it.

I approached it shakily. In my whole life, I have never felt this anxious.

A man in his late twenties greeted me with "Good morning, Mrs. Campbell." He was dressed in a navy and blue tuxedo. I grinned at him since he was a pilot. "Me too,"

I had never seen a private jet in my life, so when the air hostess escorted me aboard, the magnificent and mesmerizing decor stopped me in my tracks.

The spacious living room and the main area of the flight are identical.

With four distinct areas, three temperature zones, twelve different floor plans, and the capacity to carry up to 18 guests comfortably, the cabin is extravagant, to say the least. Even interiors from Versace are available!

I turned to look around when I heard whistling compliments and had a glimpse of a private plane, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw him seated on one of the plush seats with a laptop in front of him.

He either lived for his job or this lived for him.

He is ignoring me as if I'm invisible, even though I am positive that he is aware that I am here.

Does he ever treat me like a normal person?

I approached the couch gently and took a seat next to him.

He ignored me, though, and his eyes were still firmly fixed on a laptop.

As the jet prepared to take off, I bit my inner cheeks and grinned internally while gazing out the windows.

I felt delighted as I glanced up at the lovely cloud-draped sky and smiled.

I took a quick look. On his laptop, he continued to work. I muttered to myself.

Does this man lives for his job, or would it work for him?

"Hey, why can't we live as friends?"  With my fingers moving, I questioned.

He quickly stopped typing on the laptop and turned to face me.

He raised his eyebrows and questioned, "What?"

"I mean, we can live normally like friends; no fights, no ego issues, just normal stuff," I said while biting my inner cheek.

"Listen, I don't have time for your rubbish talk. Just go somewhere, but don't bother me," he said coldly and returned to his laptop.

"Then let me go. I can't be with you anymore. Please understand that your fiance ran with my brother. It was not my mistake. Just let me go. Let me live my life," I said while shaking my head.

He frowned and closed his laptop harshly.

"What is your damm problem?" he asked, his jaw clenched.

I quickly stand up, sighing in exaggeration, and come towards the bedroom in a private jet.

I sit while hugging my knees up to my chest, looking outside from the window at clouds.

I don't know what he wants now. I wonder how many times I have told him that it's not my mistake that his fiance ran away with my brother because she loves my brother and not him, but he won't listen to me.

"Ma'am, you want anything?" the air hostess asked me while standing at the edge of the door of the bedroom.

"Do you have ice cream?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said while pulling out packed ice cream cones and ice cream tubs.

"I want chocolate flavor," I said while looking at ice cream.