The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 15

Laughter That Wasn’t For Me

At one in the afternoon, Daniel came home.

Alina heard the sound of his car–the familiar Bentley Continental–entering the yard. Heard the car door close. Heard the sound of Daniel’s dress shoes on the marble floor, confident and firm as usual.

But this time there was no excited flutter in Alina’s chest. No foolish hope that maybe–Daniel came home early to see her.

No desire to go downstairs immediately. To greet Daniel at the door with a smile even though he rarely returned it. To ask if he’d eaten even though Daniel rarely answered. To take his jacket even though Daniel usually went straight to the study without glancing.

Alina knew Daniel came home for Clarissa and Junior.

She didn’t expect Daniel would come home at lunch hour. Because usually he only returned at seven or eight in the evening, sometimes later.

From her room, Alina could hear faint sounds downstairs.

The sound of Junior calling Daniel in an excited tone. Happy.

“Papa! Papa’s home!”

Then Clarissa’s voice–light, musical, with a deliberately sweet tone. “Daniel, you’re home earlier than I thought. I’ve prepared your favorite lunch.”

Then shortly after, Daniel’s voice was heard.

Deep. Warm. Genuine.

“I happened to have no meetings today.”

11

‘Are we going to have lunch together?” Junior’s voice was heard again.

“Yes. We’ll have lunch together,” Daniel answered accompanied by a sound–laughter?

Alina froze on the edge of the bed, her breath stopped, every cell in her body shocked.

Daniel laughed.

Not a brief polite laugh. Not a controlled chuckle. But real laughter–laughter that came from the chest, that made his voice rise slightly, that sounded happy.

Alina had never heard that sound. Not once in their five years of marriage.

Not when Junior first spoke.

Not when Alina successfully made the first dinner that wasn’t burnt. Not on their first anniversary when Alina tried an awkward joke to break the ice.

Daniel was always cold.

Controlled. Face like it was carved from marble–beautiful but untouchable.

But now with Clarissa he was laughing.

That sound flowed through the corridor and walls, muffled but still clear enough for Alina to hear. And every second of that sound was a knife slowly stabbing her chest.

Then, Alina could hear faint sounds muffled through the walls from the dining room that was now only filled by the “core family.”

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Clarissa’s voice was heard again. “Junior, sweetheart, try this soup. Mama cooked it special for you.”

Silence. Junior didn’t answer.

Then Daniel’s voice was heard–warm? A tone Alina had never heard directed at her.

“Junior, Papa wants you to try what Mama Rissa cooked. Okay, sweetheart?”

Mama Rissa.

Daniel was deliberately conditioning his son to call Clarissa by that name. Daniel who was slowly, systematically, erasing ” Mama Alina” and replacing it with “Mama Rissa.”

Something twisted in Alina’s chest, painful and sharp.

No sound of Junior responding.

Alina didn’t know if Junior complied or resisted. Didn’t know if the boy was starting to accept Clarissa or was still loyal to her.

And that was the most torturous–not knowing.

Clarissa’s voice was heard again, with a slightly frustrated tone though covered with cheerfulness. “Junior, why are you so quiet? Mama is asking, do you like the soup?”

Silence.

Daniel again, filling the gap. “Junior is still adjusting. Give him time.”

But there was an edge in Daniel’s voice–subtle impatience. Like he was frustrated Junior wasn’t fully cooperating with the family time” he orchestrated.

21

Alina sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sounds of a family that was no longer hers, in a house that was no longer her

home.

In her heart Alina asked herself: How much longer before I’m completely erased?

Thirty minutes later…

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

Alina knew it wasn’t Mrs. Helen who came, But, Daniel.

Alina could tell from the way of knocking–firm, three times, with measured intervals.

She didn’t move from the bed, staring at the wall with empty eyes.

Another knock, accompanied by a call. “Alina.”

Daniel’s voice muted through the thick wooden door, but still commanding. Still expecting compliance.

“I know you’re not sleeping. Open the door.”

Alina didn’t answer.

A moment of silence. Then the sound of a key- Daniel had a master key for all rooms. Of course he did.

The door opened. Daniel entered, closing the door behind him, standing with a slightly uncomfortable posture—like he wasn’t sure why he was here.

He was still wearing a neat work shirt, tie tied perfectly at his neck. Clean jacket without wrinkles.

Only his face.

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There was something there–tense, held back–like there was a burden that didn’t align with his appearance.

Though everything was going according to plan, right? Clarissa was back. Junior was “bonding” with his biological mother. Margaret was happy. The mansion was arranged, calm, controlled.

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