Chapter 14
The room was cloaked in darkness when I woke, still entwined in Colson’s arms, his warmth seeping into me as we lay in his bed.
The memories of the night before washed over me, bringing with them a surge of conflicting emotions.
This man, this enigma of power and tenderness, was wrapping me around his finger in ways I swore I’d never allow.
Colson Ashworth had a tender side, one he reserved for only a select few, but I knew all too well that he was also capable of cruelty, a danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.
I slipped my arm under the pillow, my mind racing. Colson stirred beside me, and without warning, he pressed a hard kiss to my lips, his grip on me firm.
“It’s nice to have someone in my bed again,” he murmured, his voice low and content.
“Just for tonight,” I whispered back, a warning more for myself than for him. If I kept sleeping in his bed, I knew I’d give in before our wedding night. I wanted to wait, to hold on to that one boundary for a little longer.
He exhaled, the sound heavy with resignation. “Very well.”
Then, as if it were a casual remark, he said, “I’ve set our wedding date for July twenty-fifth. At first, I was considering the end of August, but you’ve impressed me with your training.”
My heart skipped a beat. “That’s only a month away. I don’t even have a wedding dress,” I protested, my voice tinged with panic.
“You will,” he assured me, his tone calm and unwavering. “Evelina will be here tomorrow after your lessons with Velva and Luke. She’s selected several dresses she thinks will be perfect for your body type.”
“I want my mother to see them… help me make my choice,” I said, hoping for some semblance of normalcy in this whirlwind.
He kissed my forehead, a gesture meant to soothe but only deepened my unease. “That’s not possible. Jean Paul is keeping her busy. It seems all the Shaws are quick learners. She’s doing quite well at the bakery.”
I traced my hand over his chest, my nails lightly grazing his skin as I ventured into dangerous territory. “Colson, I want to see my family. Why are you keeping them from me?”
His fingers trailed along my throat, a touch that was both intimate and ominous. For a fleeting moment, I feared he might tighten his grip, a reminder of the domination he wielded so effortlessly in the limo.
“I didn’t want to disturb your focus,” he said, his voice smooth, almost comforting. “You’re doing so well.”
Before I could respond, he cupped my ass, pulling me closer until his leg was thrown possessively over my hip.
The realization hit me—I wasn’t wearing panties, and he was clad only in boxers.
After my shower, he’d dressed me in one of his shirts, insisting I stay.
Now, his cock was lodged between my legs, pressing insistently against my clit.
I clung to him, my resolve crumbling as he moved, thrusting upward with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His mouth claimed mine, swallowing my moans as he stoked the fire burning inside me. Each movement, each touch, was a reminder of his dominance, of the power he held over me.
And yet, despite the warning bells ringing in my head, I couldn’t help but melt into him, my body betraying me as it responded to his every command. I came with a soft cry, resting against him as my heart rate slowed to normal.
"You can see them this weekend," Colson murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "Your brother should be home soon."
I tensed slightly, desperate for more information, for something that would make me feel less like a captive in this gilded cage. "Where do they live? Please, just tell me."
His hold on me tightened, his arm a vice around my waist. "One of my rental properties in town," he finally revealed.
It was the first real piece of information he’d given me about my family’s whereabouts.
The truth settled in my mind, bringing a mix of relief and frustration.
When my father had come to mow with his crew, I’d been at work, missing him by mere hours.
Weeks had passed since I last saw my parents, and the need to reconnect with them gnawed at me.
I needed their support, their grounding presence, now more than ever.
The steady hum of the computer filled my office as I scrolled through research documents, trying to focus on the task at hand.
I’d buried myself in work, hoping to escape the tangled mess of emotions and the suffocating control Colson had over my life.
The numbers on the screen blurred, and I rubbed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
A sudden, soft click shattered my concentration.
I looked up, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Vaughn silently closing the door, the lock clicking into place.
He didn’t say a word as he stalked toward me, his expression unreadable, but there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that made my skin prickle.
“Vaughn,” I said, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “Can I help you with something?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he came to a stop right in front of my desk, his presence looming over me like a dark shadow. “I heard you last night, Joey,” he finally said, his voice low and dangerous. “With my father.”
My heart pounded in my chest. The memory of Colson’s hands on me, his breath hot against my skin, flashed in my mind. I tried to push it away, to keep my composure. “Vaughn, I don’t know what you think you heard…”
“You have no idea what kind of man he really is,” Vaughn cut me off, his tone sharp as a blade. He leaned in closer, his hands gripping the edge of my desk. “You think you know him? You don’t. Not like I do.”
“I know exactly what Colson is,” I shot back, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. “I know he can be cruel, but I’ve also seen his tender side. He’s not the monster you want me to believe he is.”
A cold smile curled Vaughn’s lips. “Tender? Is that what you call it? Let me give you some advice, Joey. Before you go any further with him, let me take your virginity.”
My breath caught in my throat. “What?” I whispered, recoiling in disbelief.
“You heard me,” Vaughn said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “In the end, you’ll be mine anyway. Why not let me be the one to take what’s still pure before he ruins you completely?”
My stomach churned with disgust, but I forced myself to stay calm. “There is no way in hell I would ever let you touch me,” I said, my voice steady but laced with fury. “You’re worse than your father. I would rather spend a lifetime with Colson than one night with you.”
Vaughn’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. But instead, he straightened, his expression hardening into something colder, more calculating. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Joey. But you will. Soon enough, you’ll see I’m the one who should be by your side.”
“I’d rather die than let that happen,” I spat, standing up to face him. I refused to be intimidated by him, even as my heart raced in my chest.
Vaughn stared at me for a long, tense moment, his jaw clenched, before he finally turned and walked to the door. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back at me with a chilling smile. “You’ll crawl into my bed eventually. You can bet on that.”
He unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving me standing there, my body trembling with anger and fear. I knew Vaughn wouldn’t give up easily, but I also knew I had to find a way to protect myself from him—and from the twisted game he was trying to play…Colson.
If I told him what Vaughn said and did, Vaughn would be cast out into the street. Colson would ruin him and though I would enjoy watching his demise, I preferred not to be in his line of fire.
I shut my mind off to the occurrences in the past twenty-four hours, Colson’s seduction, Simone’s attack and Vaughn’s request. I had a job to do and, in another hour, my day would get even busier with my lessons and dress fittings.
My lessons started like any other, with Velva guiding me through another round of lessons, her voice sharp but encouraging as she drilled proper posture and table etiquette into my head.
But no matter how much I tried to focus, my mind kept wandering to the moment I’d finally try on wedding dresses with Evelina.
The thought filled me with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. I was going to choose the dress I’d marry Colson in—alone. The weight of that responsibility pressed down on me, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
By the time I joined Luke for our wine-tasting session, I was a mess of nerves. I swirled the glass in front of me, trying to recall the steps Velva had taught me, but my thoughts were miles away, envisioning lace and silk.
“Josephine, are you even listening?” Luke’s voice cut through my daydream, sharp and impatient.
I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. “I’m sorry, Luke. I just…”
“You need to focus,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t just for fun. When you’re married to Colson, you’ll be expected to manage these things. The wine selection is your responsibility when hosting events. You can’t afford to be distracted.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. His words hit hard, reminding me of the immense pressure I was under. I nodded, trying to push the anxiety down and pay attention, but it was no use. The joy I’d felt earlier was slipping away, replaced by a dull ache of inadequacy.
The session dragged on, each sip of wine a bitter reminder of my failure to stay focused. By the time it was over, I was more than ready to leave, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the dining room.
When I finally walked into the ballroom, my heart skipped a beat. Evelina and her assistant were busy setting up, the room filled with beautiful fabrics and intricate designs. The sight of it all was overwhelming, but nothing compared to the shock of seeing my mother standing there, waiting for me.
“Mom!” I breathed, my voice catching as I rushed to her.
She opened her arms, and I flew into them, burying my face against her shoulder. The familiar scents of the bakery clung to her—sugar, flour, a hint of cinnamon. It was like coming home after being lost in a storm.
“Oh, Joey,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “I missed you.”
I clung to her, inhaling deeply, letting the comfort of her presence wash over me. For a moment, the tension, the anxiety, everything just melted away. All that mattered was that she was here, and I wasn’t alone.
“I’m so glad to see you. How did you know?”
“Colson called the bakery and demanded that Jean Paul let me off early.”
“Josephine,” Evelina called. “Let’s get started.”
I stepped into the tent to try on the first dress, taking my time with the delicate fabric.
Evelina’s voice called out to me from behind the dressing tent. "Josephine, are you ready, darling? Let’s see how it looks."
I peeked out to see my mother sitting quietly on a plush chair nearby, her eyes warm and encouraging. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the tent, feeling the weight of the dress settle over me like a shroud.
The fabric was beautiful—soft ivory lace that trailed down into a long, flowing skirt. Tiny pearls were sewn into the bodice, and the neckline dipped just low enough to be alluring without being scandalous. It was a dress designed to make someone feel like a bride.
But not me.
Evelina clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, you look stunning, Josephine! Simply divine!” Her assistant nodded in agreement, adjusting the train behind me with precise, practiced movements.
I caught my reflection in the mirror and frowned. “It’s... pretty,” I said, my voice faltering.
My mother’s smile faltered as she studied my face. “But?”
I sighed, running my hands over the lace-covered bodice. “It doesn’t feel right. I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s dress.”
Evelina’s assistant paused, glancing at her boss as if unsure how to respond.
Evelina herself took a step closer, her expression softening.
“Josephine, it’s normal to feel nervous.
This is a big decision. But remember, the dress is meant to reflect who you are.
If this one doesn’t feel like you, we’ll keep looking. ”
I nodded, grateful for her understanding, but still, there was a sinking feeling in my chest. I had imagined this moment so many times, seeing myself in the perfect dress, feeling that rush of excitement, but all I felt was uneasy.
My mother rose from her chair and walked over to me, her presence calming. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to settle. If this dress doesn’t make you feel like a bride, then it’s not the one.”
I looked at her, my heart aching with the need for her approval and comfort. “It’s not that it’s not beautiful, Mom. It’s just... it’s not me.”
She nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Then we’ll find the one that is. Don’t worry, you’ll know it when you see it.”
Evelina smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with reassurance. “Let’s try the next one, shall we? We have plenty more to go through.”
I returned her smile, though it felt a little forced. “Okay.”
As I stepped back into the tent to change, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a long search—not just for the perfect dress, but for something more, something deeper that I couldn’t quite put into words.