Secret Wife, Real Billionaire

Chapter 211 A bit longer

“I'm not in a rush,” Marcelo replied, his voice steady.

If not for his actions, his words might have seemed more convincing.

Renee gently patted his shoulder, trying to soothe him. Beneath her touch lay the solid strength of his

muscles.

“Wait, just wait!”

“Renee, is this really the tto askto wait?”

Marcelo’s voice was strained, but he took a deep breath and halted, remembering a past incident when he

had been less considerate.

He exerted control over himself, asking gently, “What's the matter?”

His thoughtfulness unexpectedly made Renee feel a twinge of guilt.

“No, it's just...be a bit...more gentle,” she murmured.

“Are you trying to seton fire with your words, Renee? Is that it?”

Marcelo’s frustration bubbled into a laugh. He lifted her effortlessly, her body now relying solely on his

strength, leaving her no avenue for escape.

“I think | might keep you up the entire night!” Marcelo told her.

“Wait...we need to use a condom!”

Suddenly, Renee’s mind was on the fact that they had to take precautions.

Marcelo’s looked at her, a hint of challenge in his voice. “If you get pregnant, we'll have the baby. Can't | provide

for it or secure its future?”

Renee met his gaze with a defiant look.

Marcelo, seeming to understand her concern, led her to the cabinet.

“Choose one that you feel comfortable with.”

True to his word, Marcelo kept her awake through the night.

Renee wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but as they finished, the first light of dawn was creeping through the

curtain.

By the tshe woke, it was already noon.

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The events of the night replayed in her mind.

She couldn't shake the thought that Marcelo had seemed particularly enthralled by their intimacy without

protection.

Previously, he had always been mindful about using it, but last night, he had left the choice to her, almost

as if he was making a point.

He even made her to help him put it on.

Their current abode was a presidential suite in a five-star hotel, not sseedy love motel. The array of

contraceptives seemed oddly out of place in such a luxurious setting.

This wasn’t what Renee had expected from a presidential suite!

“Well, onto the next matter. What? Want to abandon your marketing department role? Change your plans

or quit. Con, working for such little profit is practically charity.”

Marcelo’s deep, composed voice drifted from the living room, bringing Renee back to reality.

After a moment, she realized the man who had tenderly bathed her before showering himself, and thus had slept

in later than she had, was now busy with work in the living room.

As Renee reached for her phone to check the time, she noticed over twenty W****x*p messages from

Sarah.

“Renee, are you awake yet?”

“It’s ten already. Are you still asleep?”

“Are you awake? Hello?

“If you're up, reply toas soon as you can.”

“Why aren’t you answering my calls? Hey!”

“I might cover and knock on your door, okay?”

It seemed Sarah was hesitant to intrude on Marcelo and Renee's private time, hence the barrage of messages

and calls for confirmation.

Renee noticed two missed calls from Sarah.

Marcelo had set her phone to silent, and she hadn't responded.

The last phone call cin at about half past eleven in the morning.

It was now one in the afternoon.

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Renee was at a loss for words.

Since her clothes were in tatters, she resorted to wearing Marcelo’s white shirt she found on the floor.

Remembering past embarrassing incidents, she didn’t dare make a sound as she entered the living room.

Marcelo was lounging on the sofa, a laptop perched on the coffee table. The laptop, brand new, had been

purchased just that morning.

Upon noticing Renee, he signaled the others in the video conference to pause.

“Do you want to eat here, or shall we go out?” he inquired.

Renee blinked her eyes at the laptop.

Marcelo assured her, “I've muted the microphone.”

Still wary, Renee approached, carefully covering the camera with her hand before peering at the screen.

Indeed, it was muted.

“Renee, it’s as if I'm having an affair with you,” He remarked jokingly.

“Weren't we secretly married?” She responded, feigning innocence.

Marcelo leaned back, crossing his legs to ease the mood.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“Didn’t | place the wedding ring on your finger?”

Renee reflexively glanced at her right hand, where the pink diamond sparkled under the light.

“I thought...we had agreed to keep our marriage a secret...”

“We never made such an agreement,” Marcelo replied, his mood visibly uplifted, like a child reveling in a

newfound treasure.

“By now, many must know that Mrs. King, formerly Miss Hudson, is you.”

Only then did Renee recall Marcelo’s declaration at the auction, which had certainly put to rest any lingering

doubts within their social circle.

Marcelo seemed disinterested in continuing his meeting.

Having covered the main points, he gestured to his employees on the screen, indicating the end of their

discussion.

“Has Sarah been here?” Renee inquired.

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He nodded. “I didn’t wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully.”

A wave of speechlessness washed over Renee.

She had overslept because of the man standing before her!

“Marcelo, do you ever run out of energy?” She half-joked, half-complained.

Despite this not being their first time, Renee still found it hard to comprehend someone who seemed immune to

fatigue or sleepiness.

Her body ached, yet there he stood, brimming with vitality.

“Would you like to test that theory again?” he teased.

Renee was at a loss for words. After a whole night together, how could he even entertain the thought of

more?

When Renee met Sarah, she noticed an undeniable oddity in Sarah's gaze.

“What's with that look on your face?” Renee inquired.

“You didn’t quite manage to conceal the hickey.” With a caring adjustment to Renee's scarf, Sarah offered her

best friend a thumbs-up. “You, a woman who can embrace the night with such vigor, are truly

remarkable.”

Renee, with a playful tilt of her chin in Marvin's direction, suggested, “You could too.”

Sarah's response was swift. “Nice try, but that joke doesn’t cut it for me!”

Sarah hadn't driven Marvin away. He even spent the previous night at the shotel as them.

Marcelo had arranged for a private jet back home, and Marvin seized the opportunity to discuss business matters

with Marcelo, justifiably securing his spot on the private jet.

“Renee, | have scomplaints about your husband!” Sarah, her mood somber, whispered to Renee from their

seats on the plane, ensuring only she could hear.

Marcelo definitely knew that Sarah’s current feelings towards Marvin were less than warm!

Despite understanding that her annoyance might be unreasonable, given the private jet was at Marcelo’s

disposal and Marvin had a justifiable reason for being aboard, Sarah couldn't help but feel irked.

After all, who said anger needs a reason?

If logic dictated one’s feelings, anger would cease to exist!

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As the private jet ascended, conversation lulled, and Renee began to feel drowsy. Sarah insisted she retire to the

bedroom to rest, assuring Renee she’d be fine on her own.

Attempting to distract herself, Sarah started watching an old film but soon found herself succumbing to

sleep.

Upon awakening, she discovered a men’s coat draped over her.

Marvin was seated beside her, engrossed in financial reports on a tablet, his coat now warming her,

revealing the familiar large round-neck T-shirt he often wore casually at her place.

Had it not been for his sophisticated appearance the night before, Sarah might have mistaken him for the same

Marvin who had once, claiming cognitive problems, spent much tby her side.

“Thank you, Mr. Hill,” Sarah uttered, returning to the present and extending the coat back to Marvin with

a demeanor that was cool and detached.

“Sarah, are you brushingoff?” Marvin refused to accept the coat, leaving Sarah no choice but to forcefully

place it in his arms.

She stood as the only woman who dared to assert such boldness with him.

“Mr. Hill, I'm not sure what you’re implying.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, Marvin nudged her chin up, his voice deepening. “Sarah!”

“Can’t hold back anymore?” Confronted with his directness, Sarah couldn't help but smile, “I was under

the impression Mr. Hill enjoyed the role of the innocuous puppy for a bit longer?”

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