18. Keaton
Chapter 18
Keaton
E lodie fell asleep easily, her breath steady and soft against the silence. I watched her, unable to tear my eyes away. The harsh lines of worry and exhaustion smoothed out on her face, revealing a softness that caught me off guard. Her lashes cast delicate shadows over her cheeks, and I found myself tracing the contours of her face with my gaze, memorizing every detail.
She stirred slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips, and an unexpected wave of protectiveness surged through me. I never expected to feel this way. Fierce. Possessive. She was mine now.
Gently, I wrapped her in a blanket, careful not to wake her. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the aftermath of our lovemaking. The sheets were tangled, evidence of the intensity we’d shared.
Lovemaking… It struck me then that I'd never thought of it that way before. Every other encounter had been mechanical, a means to an end. But with Elodie, it had been different. It had been raw, real.
My eyes caught sight of the blood on the sheets. A small stain but significant. She really was a virgin. A strange mix of emotions swirled within me—pride, astonishment. I thought I'd be disgusted by it, but instead, I felt an odd sense of hunger.
Proof that this marriage was real.
I settled beside her, my mind racing yet oddly calm. This wasn't just about defying my father or escaping Lola anymore. Elodie had become more than a pawn in my game; she was becoming my anchor.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face and watched as she slept peacefully on.
My cock started to stir, an all-too-familiar sensation that usually led to me waking up whoever was beside me for round two—or three. But tonight, I stayed still. The thought of waking her up crossed my mind briefly, but something held me back. She was probably sore from earlier, and despite the persistent ache in my pants, I didn’t want to add to her discomfort.
I scowled at the ceiling, annoyed by the sudden wave of concern. Since when did I care about anyone's comfort but my own? It felt foreign, almost wrong, to be considerate. Normally, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Normally, I'd be getting what I wanted regardless of the cost.
But with Elodie... something was different.
I turned my head to look at her again. Her breathing remained steady, her face relaxed in sleep. The faint glow from the bedside lamp highlighted her features in a way that made her seem almost ethereal. She looked peaceful, untouched by the shit of my world. It stirred something inside me—something that both intrigued and irritated me.
I shifted slightly, trying to ease the discomfort in my groin without waking her. My scowl deepened as I realized how much this situation bothered me. Caring wasn’t part of the plan. She was supposed to be a means to an end, a way out of my father's iron grip and Lola’s manipulative clutches.
Yet here I was, lying awake and fretting over her well-being.
I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply, willing myself to push these unwanted thoughts away. This was a temporary lapse in judgment—nothing more. She didn’t deserve my concern any more than anyone else did.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping her safe mattered more than anything else right now.
I settled in beside her, feeling the warmth of her body seep into mine. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of her breathing. The scent of her lingered on the sheets, a mix of sweat and something floral, grounding me in the present.
For once, my mind wasn’t racing with thoughts of my father’s demands or the looming threat of Lola. Elodie’s presence had a strange calming effect, and I found myself sinking into the mattress with an ease I hadn’t known in years. It was as if the weight I always carried around had lifted, even if just for a moment.
Her breathing steadied me, a soft reminder that for tonight, at least, I wasn’t alone. The feel of her skin against mine was both comforting and electrifying. She shifted slightly in her sleep, curling closer to me as if seeking my protection even unconsciously. A part of me reveled in that, knowing she trusted me enough to let her guard down.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between us. Her warmth seeped into me, chasing away the cold that had settled in my bones long ago. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget everything else and just exist in this bubble we’d created.
My eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion finally caught up with me. Everything felt surreal, like I was living someone else’s life for a change.
But as I lay there with Elodie nestled against me, it felt right.
Sleep came easily for once, pulling me under its spell before I could overthink any further. The last thing I remembered was the steady rise and fall of Elodie’s chest beneath my hand and the way it matched the rhythm of my own breathing.
And just like that, sleep claimed me completely.
The door to my room slammed open, and I shot up, heart pounding. My eyes squinted against the sudden burst of light flooding in from the hallway.
"What the hell is going on here?" The voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of sleep.
I scowled, trying to make sense of the intrusion. Beside me, Elodie stirred, her body shifting under the covers. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the cold air that had invaded my sanctuary.
I opened one eye and met my father's furious gaze. He stood in the doorway, his face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief.
"Fuck off, would you?" I muttered, not bothering to mask my irritation. "It's Tuesday."
His eyes darted to Elodie, still half-asleep beside me. "Who the hell is this?" His voice rose an octave. "It's certainly not Lola."
"Thank the good Lord it isn't," I said under my breath as he stepped into the room. "Would you mind? My wife isn't decent."
Elodie's eyes fluttered open, confusion washing over her features as she took in the scene. My father's presence loomed large, casting a shadow over our fragile moment of peace.
"Your wife?" His laugh was humorless. "Since when did you start playing house with strangers?"
"Since it became none of your business," I shot back, my tone cold and unyielding.
He took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Elodie. "Get out," he commanded her, his voice like ice.
Elodie looked at me, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
"Stay," I said firmly, not breaking eye contact with my father. "She stays."
"This is unacceptable," he seethed. "You have responsibilities?—"
"And I'm taking care of them," I interrupted, my voice steady but filled with defiance. "Just not in the way you want."
My father’s jaw tightened, his frustration palpable. He was used to control, to obedience. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go in his meticulously planned world.
"I won't allow this," he finally said, each word a dagger aimed at my resolve.
"It's already done," I replied, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me as I met his gaze head-on.
"You can't be serious," my father spat, his voice dripping with disbelief.
"Would you like to see the stained sheets yourself?" I drawled, letting a smirk curl my lips. "I also have the marriage contract ready if you want that too."
His eyes flicked to Elodie, his gaze narrowing. "How much is he paying you?" he demanded.
A surge of protectiveness flared in me. "Don't talk to my wife," I said, stepping between them. "Especially when she's indecent."
He laughed, but it was a hollow sound, echoing off the walls of my room. "That's rich," he said, his eyes cold. "Coming from you." He turned back to Elodie, his expression hardening. "I'll double whatever he's paying you, especially since he doesn't have access to his inheritance. And he won't, now that he's completely flouted my rules."
"I already told you?—"
"He isn't paying me," Elodie murmured. Her voice wasn't strong, but there was a firmness to it that caught me off guard.
My father's eyes widened for a moment before narrowing into slits of suspicion. He opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off.
"You heard her," I said.
"You're telling me you wanted to marry him?" my father demanded, his tone dripping with incredulity. "Do you know anything about my son? He's cold and inconsiderate. He's selfish. He's everything a husband shouldn't be. And you're ready to spend the rest of your life with him?"
Elodie tilted her chin up, her eyes meeting his without flinching. "I've made my choice."
Pride bloomed in my chest, filling the empty spaces left by years of resentment and defiance. "Get the fuck out," I said, my voice firm and unyielding.
My father’s face twisted in anger, but he held back, his control slipping like sand through his fingers. "Get dressed," he growled, directing his fury at me. "We need to talk. Now."
"I need to get to class," Elodie said softly, turning to me with a hint of urgency in her eyes.
"Oh, good," my father said with a sneer. "She's still in school. This is great, Keaton."
I smirked and stood up, completely naked, letting the moment hang in the air just long enough to see the disgusted scowl form on his face.
"I'll be out when I'm out," I said calmly, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.
My father clenched his jaw, shooting one last venomous look at Elodie before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving us in a silence that buzzed with unspoken words.
I turned to Elodie. She had stood up to my father—something few dared to do—and she had done it with grace and strength that belied her delicate appearance.
"You didn't have to do that," I said quietly, reaching for my clothes scattered on the floor. "My father's an ass."
"I just told the truth," she replied simply, pulling the covers tighter around herself.
I nodded, appreciating her resolve more than I could express. As I dressed quickly, I couldn't help but steal glances at her—this girl who had somehow become an unexpected ally in a world where trust was a rare commodity.
I opened my dresser drawer and pulled out a set of keys, tossing them to Elodie. "Here," I said. "You can have my Mercedes."
Her eyes widened, disbelief flickering across her face. "I…"
"I know, babes," I cut in, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "I really am such a generous guy."
"I don't know how to drive," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What?" The word came out sharper than intended.
"Yeah," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "My stepmother never taught me. She said she didn't want to put me on her insurance and pay for me when I wouldn't get a car, anyway."
"Your stepmom's a cunt," I said bluntly, shaking my head in disbelief. "I'll teach you. For now, get ready. I'll drive you. I want to get on the ice, anyway." I paused, glancing toward the door where my father had stormed out moments before. "Right now, I'm going to talk to my dear old daddy and smooth this over."
"Is that even possible?" Elodie asked, her voice tinged with doubt.
"Probably not," I admitted with a shrug. "But fuck it."
She gave me a hesitant smile as she began gathering her things, her movements quick and efficient. I could see the anxiety in her eyes but also a glimmer of determination that made me respect her even more.
I stepped out into the hallway, taking a deep breath before heading toward my father's study. The corridor felt longer than usual, each step echoing in the silence as I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation.
The door to his study was ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking. He sat behind his massive mahogany desk, already engrossed in paperwork that likely dictated my future in some way or another.
"Dad," I began, leaning against the doorframe.
He looked up, his expression unreadable but tinged with frustration. "Keaton."
"I don't have all day," I said, lighting a cigarette and letting the smoke curl around my fingers. "You got something to say, say it. But I have to get my wife to class."
"You ruined everything," my father seethed, his face turning a deep shade of red. "I'm going to have to find a lawyer, get this whole thing annulled?—"
"I ain't annulling my marriage," I cut in, taking a drag. "I told you. I won't marry Lola. That bitch betrayed me."
"So fucking what, Keaton," he snapped back. "Like you aren't going to cheat on this girl."
I clenched my teeth; the smoke filling my lungs with a familiar burn. In truth, I had no plans to do that, but it wasn't as though he would believe me anyway, so I decided not to say anything.
"Regardless," I continued, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I made my choice. I settled down, just like you wanted."
"And how does this help our family?" he demanded, his voice rising with each word. "Tell me why I shouldn't cut you out."
"Because I married someone, didn't I?" I shot back.
"She could be a gold digger for all we know!" he bellowed.
"She's not," I said flatly.
"And how could you possibly know that?" His eyes narrowed into slits.
"I just do." I took another drag of my cigarette, savoring the brief silence.
He scoffed, but said nothing.
"Cut me off, Dad," I said finally. "Fine. Do it. But my decision is done. Elodie is my wife. And I'm not just going to dump her because you dump me."
He shook his head in disbelief. "And what do you know about being a husband?"
"Jack shit," I admitted, stubbing out the cigarette on his pristine desk without caring about the burn mark it left behind. "But I'm not a coward. So do whatever you want. I don't give a shit. I'm just glad I didn't marry Lola."
I turned on my heel and walked toward the door.
"This isn't over, Keaton," he drawled behind me.
But I kept walking, leaving his threats and anger behind as I stepped back into the hallway. My wife had to get to class, and I had to be the one to take her.