The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 20

Half an hour later, the bedroom door opened without a knock.

Alina was still sitting on the floor, but had already wiped her tears. Her face was empty. Eyes red.

Daniel stood in the doorway, looking at her with an unreadable expression. His gaze fell on the tray on the table—the lunch plate that was almost finished.

Something in his face relaxed. Subtle relief.

“You ate,” he said. Not a question, but a statement.

Alina didn’t answer. Didn’t look at him. Just stared at the window with empty eyes.

Daniel stepped inside, closing the door. “Clarissa is coming. She’ll be staying overnight tonight. I came home early to accompany Junior playing.”

Alina was stunned hearing Daniel’s complete report. It wasn’t usual for the man to report in detail. But Alina quickly realized, Daniel said that only to hurt her. To make her more tortured by hearing Daniel’s decision to allow his ex–wife to stay in the

house.

Something cracked in Alina’s chest–small, but painful enough to make her breath catch for a moment.

Staying overnight.

Another woman would sleep in this house. In the mansion that should be Alina’s home. In the guest room that might only be a

few doors away from Daniel’s room.

“I want you not to come down for dinner,” Daniel continued in a somehow softer tone. “It will be easier for everyone if-”

“I understand.”

Two words. Flat. Final.

Alina still didn’t look at Daniel. Still stared at the window as if there was something there more interesting than her own

husband.

Daniel’s jaw hardened. “Alina, look at me when I’m talking.”

Alina didn’t move.

“Alina

“I said I understand,” Alina cut in with a voice that was too calm, but came from total emptiness. “Clarissa is staying over. I won’t come down for dinner. I’ll stay in my room like a good prisoner. Are there any other instructions, or are you done?”

Tense silence.

Daniel stood there with hands clenched at his sides, jaw hardening until the tendons in his neck were tense.

“Why do you keep acting like this? Have you still not accepted Clarissa as Junior’s biological mother?”

Alina was silent. Tired of arguing. Tired of answering. She took a deep breath.

“Go, Daniel” Alina hugged her knees tighter, trying to hold together the pieces of herself that were starting to fall apart. Junior must be waiting. You said you’d accompany him playing, right?”

Alina’s heart sank again. Realizing lately Daniel had been doing many things he never did before with Junior when they were together.

Daniel never once made time to play during work days. Especially during work hours. Even on weekends Daniel always chose

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meetings over spending time with them.

“Go. Prove to Junior–and Clarissa–that you can be a good father. At least for today.”

Bitter sarcasm. Raw.

Daniel stood frozen, looking at Alina’s back with a torn expression–between anger and guilt?

Alina didn’t glance at him at all. Had no energy to turn around or care.

“I’ll accompany Junior,” Daniel finally said in a low voice. “You can’t skip dinner. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Alina scoffed. Laughing in her heart at Daniel’s sudden attention. Though before Daniel never cared even if Alina skipped dinner, even after staying up all night waiting for him who didn’t come home from work.

“I know how to survive well in this family. I’ve been doing it for five years. So no need to pretend to care. I’ll stay healthy for Junior. To watch him grow even without me.”

Daniel didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Everything Alina said was an undeniable truth. Alina had to let Junior grow without her, because Clarissa was already there.

Danjel turned, walking to the door with somehow heavier steps.

At the doorway, he stopped. “I’ll send Mrs. Helen with dinner later.”

Alina just stayed silent. Didn’t answer.

Daniel was silent long enough, waiting for an answer. But Alina still didn’t respond. He left, closing the door with a soft sound that somehow felt like a slam.

As soon as the door closed, the tears Alina held back collapsed.

She cried with a shaking body–silent, violent–with sobs muffled by her hand over her mouth.

Daniel was outrageous. Truly outrageous.

Letting Clarissa take over all of Alina’s roles–mother, lady of the house, even wife in subtle ways. Letting that woman stay over as if this was her house.

And now Daniel would accompany Junior playing.

Something the man never did in five years. Not when Alina begged. Not when Junior cried asking for his father’s attention.

But now for Clarissa–Daniel suddenly became an attentive father.

Everything for Clarissa. Always for Clarissa.

Alina hugged herself, trying to hold the pieces together.

But there were too many pieces. Too small. Too broken to put back together.

And downstairs, Daniel walked toward the playroom with heavy steps, trying to ignore the image of Alina–sitting alone on the floor, crying soundlessly, slowly dying in the room that had become her prison.

The first–floor playroom felt too quiet for a room usually filled with laughter.

Junior sat in a large bean bag with a Transformers robot in his hand- -a gift from Clarissa that the boy never really played with. Only held because Clarissa kept forcing him. Stared at with empty eyes.

Clarissa sat on the carpet with a dress already changed to elegant cream loungewear, hair let down with perfect waves. She tried to build a tower from Lego, occasionally glancing at Junior with frustration she could hardly hide.

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“Junior, sweetheart, want to help Mama make a castle? We can make a big castle with—”

“Don’t want to.”

Two words. Flat. Without looking at Clarissa.

Clarissa’s smile faltered. “But it will be fun-”

“Junior said don’t want to.”

Junior’s voice was slightly louder now. An edge beginning to emerge.

Margaret sat on the sofa with a magazine in hand, occasionally looking at this scene with thinning lips–clearly not happy with Junior’s “attitude.”

The playroom door opened. Daniel entered.

Junior didn’t turn. Didn’t react. As if his father was invisible.

“Hey, buddy,” Daniel greeted, stepping inside with hands in pockets–a somehow uncomfortable posture. “What are you playing? Want to play together?”

Silence.

Junior still stared at the robot in his hand.

Daniel glanced at Clarissa, who shrugged with a helpless gesture. Then at Margaret, who looked at him with clear expectation-

fix this.

Daniel sat on the floor beside Junior, trying to be at eye–level.

“Junior, Papa is talking to you.”

“Papa is busy,” Junior said without looking. Voice monotone. “Papa always says Papa is busy when Junior asks to play.”

Those words hit harder than expected.

Daniel froze. “Papa is not busy now. Papa is here. Papa wants to play with Junior.”

“Why?” Finally Junior looked at his father–but not with excitement. With suspicion. “Why now Papa is not busy? Why now Papa wants to play with me?”

Those words out of the mouths of babes.

Clarissa laughed–awkward, forced. “Junior, Papa wants quality time with you! Come on, let’s play together-”

“Junior doesn’t want Mama Rissa here,” Junior said, looking at Clarissa with cold eyes. Too cold for a six–year–old. “Junior

wants Mama Alina.”

Margaret put down her magazine with a loud sound. “Junior, don’t start again-

“JUNIOR WANTS MAMA ALINA!”

Suddenly, Junior stood, throwing the robot to the floor with surprising force. Tears began to flow.

“Why can’t Mama come down? Why does Mama have to stay in her room? Why is Papa hiding Mama from Junior?”

Daniel stood too, trying to reach Junior. “Buddy, Mama Alina isn’t being hidden. She’s just

“LIES!”

Junior backed away, avoiding Daniel’s touch. “Papa lies! Everyone lies!”

Junior ran to the window facing the yard—the window directly below Alina’s room.

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He looked up with desperate eyes.

“MAMA! JUNIOR IS HERE! MAMA CAN YOU HEAR JUNIOR?”

Junior’s voice cracking. Desperate. Heartbreaking.

Daniel’s chest tightened painfully.

Clarissa stood, clearly uncomfortable. “Daniel, maybe I should-”

“MAMA WHY DON’T YOU ANSWER?” Junior was crying now, full sobs. “WHY DOESN’T MAMA COME DOWN? DOESN’T MAMA LOVE JUNIOR ANYMORE?”

“Junior, stop this-” Margaret started to approach.

“MAMA DOESN’T LOVE JUNIOR? WHY DID MAMA LEAVE JUNIOR?”

Daniel moved–fast–grabbing Junior before the boy collapsed to the floor.

“Junior, listen to Papa-

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“LET GO! PAPA IS MEAN! PAPA HID MAMA! JUNIOR HATES PAPA!”

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Hate.

A word that struck deeper than anything.

Junior struggled in Daniel’s embrace, kicking, hitting with small hands, crying hysterically.

“JUNIOR HATES PAPA! HATES! JUNIOR WANTS MAMA! WANTS MAMA ALINA!”

Daniel hugged his son tight–not restraining, but holding. Trying to contain the pieces of his son that were falling apart.

“Shh, buddy. Papa is here. Papa-”

“JUNIOR DOESN’T WANT PAPA! JUNIOR WANTS MAMA!”

Junior’s voice was raw now, hoarse from screaming.

Daniel closed his eyes, feeling every word like a physical blow.

Margaret stood with rigid posture. “Daniel, this is outrageous. You need to act firmly with Junior.”

“Mama, please.” Daniel’s voice cracked slightly. “Not now.”

Margaret’s mouth opened–ready to argue–but something in Daniel’s expression stopped her.

Defeat. Pure, raw defeat.

Clarissa stood awkwardly, clearly not knowing what to do. This was not the sweet reunion scene she imagined.

Junior eventually exhausted himself. His crying reduced to broken sobs. His small body still trembled in Daniel’s embrace, but

no longer fighting.

“Mama…” Junior whispered, voice broken. “Junior wants Mama…”

Daniel looked at his son–1 -the small face wet with tears, red swollen eyes, trembling lips.

And something inside him finally, truly broke.

“Okay,” Daniel whispered. “Okay, buddy. Papa will arrange something. Okay?”

Junior didn’t respond. Just closed his eyes, exhausted, still shaking with the aftershock of the meltdown.

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Daniel looked at Margaret and Clarissa with a different expression.