Chapter 4
The rain was relentless as we landed in Nice, the sky a deep gray that matched the heaviness in my chest. We were staying at The Diamond Square Nice, in their presidential suite—a wedding gift from Oliver and Ryleigh Fox.
It was supposed to be a gesture of luxury, of opulence, but all I felt was exhaustion. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, and now it was all catching up to me. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone walk in a straight line.
Colson’s arm was firm around my waist as he guided me through the hotel lobby. My shoes pinched my feet, and every step felt like a struggle. By the time we reached our suite, all I wanted was to collapse.
The suite was breathtaking, all polished marble and gold accents, the kind of place I’d once dreamed of staying in.
But now, it felt like a prison cell. I kicked off my shoes and crawled into the massive bed, not caring that it was still early evening.
The luxurious duvet was a welcome relief against my tired body.
“I have dinner scheduled for seven,” Colson said, his voice smooth as he undid the buttons on his shirt.
“I’m not sure I have the energy to chew,” I mumbled into the pillow, my words slurring from exhaustion. I could feel my body giving in, the weight of sleep pulling me under.
He didn’t argue. Instead, he lifted me in his arms, his movements surprisingly gentle as he pulled down the covers and slid me beneath them. The bed was warm, soft, a cocoon that I didn’t want to leave.
“Sleep, sweet girl,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
The tenderness in his voice startled me. This was the same man who had been so rough, so demanding just hours before. Now, he was treating me with a kindness I hadn’t expected, hadn’t even known he was capable of. It was as if he had two sides—one cruel and domineering, the other gentle and caring.
It amazed me that he had this within him, this capacity for softness. Maybe something from Poppy had rubbed off on him, or maybe this was just another side of his control, a way to keep me off balance.
I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the rain against the windows lull me into a light sleep. But even as I drifted off, a part of me stayed alert, wary of what the night might bring. Colson was unpredictable, and while this moment of tenderness was welcome, I knew it could change in an instant.
For now, I let myself relax, sinking into the plush mattress. But I wouldn’t forget the man he was, the man he could be. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down completely—not with him, not ever.
I woke to the sensation of soft, warm kisses trailing along my neck, pulling me from the depths of sleep.
For a moment, I forgot where I was—forgot everything, really.
The kisses were tender, each one placed with such care that it sent a shiver down my spine.
When I opened my eyes, I found Colson leaning over me, his lips brushing against my skin as he whispered my name.
“Josephine,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s time to wake up, sweetheart. Dinner is ready.”
I blinked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, but the warmth of his affection held me in place, like a heavy blanket I wasn’t ready to push off.
I couldn’t reconcile this Colson with the one I knew—the one whose cruelty I’d already experienced, whose appetite for control and power seemed insatiable.
This wasn’t the man who’d hurt me just hours before. This Colson was different. He was open, almost emotional, as if there was something real behind his touch.
“Colson…” I whispered, searching his eyes for a trace of the mask he usually wore. But there was nothing hidden there, just a soft gaze that made my heart twist in confusion.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. His fingers were gentle, lingering as if he didn’t want to break the contact.
I nodded, still too caught off guard to speak.
His thumb traced the line of my jaw, and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, even though every part of me screamed to be cautious.
I knew better than to trust this sudden tenderness.
I’d seen his cruel side, felt it firsthand.
Colson Ashworth wasn’t the kind of man to let emotions rule him.
He had a head for money and power, and he wouldn’t let love—or anything resembling it—get in the way of that.
But as I lay there, wrapped in his touch, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward him. It was maddening, confusing, and utterly impossible to ignore. He was showing me a side of himself that I didn’t know existed, and despite everything, I found myself wanting to believe it was real.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” I struggled to find the right word. “Affectionate.”
His lips curled into a small smile, but it wasn’t the usual smirk I was accustomed to. This one was softer, almost vulnerable. “You’re my wife now, Josephine. I intend to take care of you.”
The words were simple, but they carried a weight that made my chest tighten.
I wanted to believe him, wanted to think that maybe there was more to him than the man I feared.
But I couldn’t shake the doubt, the certainty that this was just another one of his tactics—a way to keep me close, to make me bend to his will.
“I just…I didn’t expect this,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something—regret, maybe, or the ghost of some emotion he’d buried long ago. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the familiar hardness I knew so well.
“I’m full of surprises,” he said, his tone light but his grip on my chin firm. “You’ll learn that in time.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant, to dig deeper and find out what lay beneath the surface. But instead, I nodded, letting the subject drop. I wasn’t ready to push him—not when I was still trying to figure out where I stood.
Colson leaned in, kissing my forehead softly before pulling away. “Come on, let’s get you ready for dinner.”
He helped me sit up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss as his warmth left me. He was being careful with me, treating me as if I were something precious. It was a stark contrast to the man I’d seen before, the one who took what he wanted without a second thought.
As he helped me out of bed, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all part of a game—one I wasn’t sure I knew how to play. I would have to be careful, to keep my guard up, no matter how much I wanted to let it down.
Colson Ashworth was dangerous, I just needed to find out how much.
The next morning, the sun shone brightly over the Mediterranean, the sky a perfect, endless blue.
As we drove along the coastline, the warmth of the day wrapped around me, but a different kind of heat simmered just beneath my skin.
Anticipation mixed with a touch of unease as I thought about the yacht Colson had mentioned—a vessel that was to be our home for the next few weeks.
As we rounded the final curve of the marina, I caught sight of it.
Even from a distance, it was impossible to miss.
The yacht was enormous, dwarfing the other boats docked nearby.
Its sleek, white hull gleamed in the sunlight, cutting a striking figure against the deep blue of the water.
It was almost twice the size of the one Colson had in New York, and I couldn’t suppress a gasp at the sheer scale of it.
“We’re taking that?” I asked, my voice betraying my awe as I turned to Colson.
He smiled, clearly pleased with my reaction. “Yes. It’s ours for the duration of the trip. Impressive, isn’t it?”
Impressive didn’t even begin to cover it.
As we approached, I marveled at the yacht’s elegance and opulence.
The design was sleek and modern, every detail meticulously crafted to exude luxury.
The decks were expansive, made of polished teak that caught the light in a way that made the whole vessel seem almost otherworldly.
Large, panoramic windows lined the sides, offering what I imagined would be breathtaking views from every angle.
Colson helped me out of the car, his hand once again resting possessively on the small of my back as we walked down the dock toward the yacht.
As we got closer, I noticed the crew, all dressed in crisp white uniforms, standing at attention.
They greeted Colson with a mix of deference and respect, their eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to him.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Ashworth, Mrs. Ashworth,” one of them said, nodding politely as they lowered the gangway.
Mrs. Ashworth. The title still felt strange, foreign, like it belonged to someone else. But as I stepped onto the yacht, the reality of my situation settled in a little more. This was my life now, a life of unimaginable wealth and privilege, all tethered to the man at my side.
Colson guided me up the gangway, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he was afraid I might slip away.
We stepped onto the main deck, and I couldn’t help but be struck by the grandeur of it all.
The yacht was a floating palace, complete with plush lounge areas, a hot tub that overlooked the water, and even a small swimming pool.
Everything was pristine, untouched, as though the yacht had been prepared just for us.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper as I took it all in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Colson’s smile was more genuine than I’d seen before, a flicker of something softer beneath the usual mask of control. “Only the best for you, Josephine. This is where we’ll be spending the next few weeks, sailing wherever we please.”
As he led me through the various levels of the yacht, each one more luxurious than the last, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being in a dream.
The main salon was a vision of modern elegance, with white leather sofas, a grand piano in the corner, and walls lined with abstract art that must have cost a fortune.
There was a fully stocked bar, its glass shelves lined with bottles of the finest spirits, and a dining area with a table that could easily seat twelve.
“This is…incredible,” I breathed, running my fingers along the smooth surface of the bar. “I can’t believe I have access to all of this.”
“You do now,” Colson replied, his tone a mix of pride and something deeper. “Everything I have is yours.”
I wanted to believe him, to believe that this opulence, was something I could truly call mine.
But there was a part of me that couldn’t forget the price of it all—the deal I’d made, the life I’d left behind.
As much as I wanted to enjoy this moment, there was always a shadow lurking in the corners of my mind.
We continued our tour, and Colson took me to the master suite.
It was even more breathtaking than the rest of the yacht.
The room was enormous, with a king-sized bed draped in the softest linens, a private balcony that opened up to the endless sea, and an ensuite bathroom with a deep soaking tub and marble countertops.
“This will be our room,” Colson said, his hand sliding down my arm as he watched me take in our surroundings. “I wanted something special for our honeymoon.”
I turned to him, searching his eyes for any hint of the man I’d seen glimpses of—the one who was capable of tenderness, of real emotion. “Why are you doing all of this, Colson? Why go to so much trouble?”
He stepped closer, his fingers gently tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him. “Because you’re my wife, Josephine. And I take care of what’s mine.”
His words, delivered with such conviction, sent a shiver down my spine.
There was something about the way he said it—possessive, yet almost…
affectionate. It was as if he truly believed that this was all for me, that his intentions were pure.
But I knew better. Colson Ashworth was a man driven by power, by control. Care didn’t factor into the equation.
Still, as I looked out at the sun-drenched sea from our balcony, the gentle sway of the yacht beneath my feet, I couldn’t help but be swept up in the moment.
This was a world I never imagined I’d be part of, a life so far removed from anything I’d known.
And for now, I let myself enjoy it, even if just for a little while.
But I wouldn’t forget he was hiding things from me which I would address when we arrived back at the mansion. He knew who pushed me down the stairs and the destruction of my family fortune. I wanted him to tell me if he knew. If he was aware of what his father did to my grandfather.
And I wanted to know why. Was the competition too much?
My grandfather was long gone by the time I was born.
He had a heart attack a couple of years after the Shaws went bankrupt, further putting a strain on the family finances.
Even if my father made it into Yale, he would’ve had to leave to help support his mother.