Chapter 11
I watched through the window as the staff carried Simone’s suitcases across the lawn to the guest house. Colson had finally made the decision last night to move her out of the mansion.
I wasn’t sure if it was the result of the desperate blowjob I’d given him or if he’d finally realized how dangerous she was to me. Either way, having her under the same roof had become untenable. He wouldn’t always be around to protect me.
Colson’s hands slid onto my shoulders, his touch both possessive and reassuring. “I did it for you, Josephine,” he murmured, his voice low. “She’ll never get over our marriage.”
“I’m sorry we won’t be friends,” I replied, watching as the last of Simone’s things disappeared into the guest house. “But she was never kind to me.”
Colson’s fingers tightened slightly on my shoulders. “But Easton is,” he said, a trace of jealousy coloring his tone.
I turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Colson, I love Easton. He’s my best friend.”
His eyes darkened as he searched my face. “I want to be your best friend.”
I reached up, cupping his cheek, enjoying the way his jealousy simmered beneath the surface. “Are you jealous of your own son?” I teased.
His expression grew more intense, a possessive edge sharpening his features. “I’m jealous of any man who holds your attention, even my sons.”
I frowned, my brow furrowing slightly. “I said son, Colson. I have no relationship with Vaughn. All we do is argue.”
Without warning, he clenched a handful of my hair, gently pulling my head back to expose my neck. His lips brushed against my skin as he whispered, “You looked pretty chummy yesterday.”
I sighed, trying to keep my voice steady. “He doesn’t want to marry Serena. He’s miserable.”
Colson bit my chin lightly, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. “Are you?” he asked, his gaze boring into mine, searching for the truth.
“I’m not miserable,” I whispered, feeling vulnerable under his intense scrutiny. “I’m finding my footing and failing.”
His expression softened just slightly. “You’re not failing. You’re doing beautifully.”
His words nearly knocked the breath out of me.
Colson was not a man who handed out compliments freely, and the fact that he was offering one now made me pause.
There were so many things I wanted to ask him—about my grandfather, about the bankruptcy that destroyed my family, about the key I found.
Why had he chosen me when he could have had anyone?
I stepped around him, walking to the dresser mirror, where I picked up my brush and began to run it through my hair. Colson’s reflection appeared behind me, his eyes tracking my every move.
He was gorgeous, undeniably so, people couldn’t help but stare. We were a striking couple, both commanding attention wherever we went. Since becoming an Ashworth, he’d insisted I maintain a certain image—manicures, waxes, makeup, and hair stylists. It was all part of the package.
But it wasn’t me. Even after seven weeks of marriage and nearly five months of living in the Ashworth mansion, I still couldn’t adjust to this life. Sometimes, I’d find myself looking across the great lawn at our former home, yearning for the simplicity I’d left behind.
“Can we do something today… something normal?” I asked, setting the brush down and turning to him.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Normal? Everything I do is normal for the kind of man I am.”
I rolled my eyes, giving him a pointed look. “Normal for me.”
“Josephine,” he said, his voice softening as he slipped his hands around my waist, pulling me against him. “Everything we do is normal for you too. You’re married to a billionaire.”
He pressed his hips against my ass, his fingers lacing together at my waist. “I’d like to stay in bed all day.”
I laughed, the sound light and carefree, even as I knew the reality of his world would soon intrude. “Doubtful. Don’t you have a call with Japan this afternoon?”
He groaned softly, nuzzling my neck. “You always know how to ruin a good fantasy.”
“I’m sorry.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips before he backed away, looking me up and down before he went to sit at his desk in just his lounge pants. I stood watching him for a moment before I went back to combing my hair.
Colson made good on his promise to spend the day in bed. We’d barely left the sheets since morning, and now, as the afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, he was on top of me, his weight deliciously heavy, his lips trailing from my neck to the sensitive spot just behind my ear.
I shivered as he sucked gently, his breath hot against my skin, sending electric pulses through my body. For a moment, everything else faded away—there was just Colson and the heady rush of desire that always accompanied him.
The shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment.
I felt him tense, his mouth pausing against my skin. He pulled back, cursing under his breath as he reached for the phone on the nightstand. “I have to take this,” he muttered, already shifting his attention away from me.
I huffed, rolling my eyes as I turned my head to the side.
Anger flared up, hot and bitter, but I swallowed it down.
This was the reality of being married to a man like Colson Ashworth—business always came first. I’d known that going in but knowing and feeling were two different things.
No matter how much time we spent together, I never seemed to come first.
He answered the call, his tone shifting from sultry lover to sharp businessman in an instant. “Yes, what is it?” His voice was clipped, all the warmth gone as he focused on whoever was on the other end.
I stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the one-sided conversation. I couldn’t make out the words, but I didn’t need to. I could feel the distance growing between us with every passing second.
Colson slid off me, sitting up on the edge of the bed as he continued to speak in low, commanding tones.
I watched the muscles in his back tense and relax, his posture a study in controlled power.
He was always in control—of his business, his family, even me.
And that was the problem. I was just another part of his empire, something to be managed, not cherished.
I sat up, pulling the sheet around me as I leaned against the headboard, my eyes fixed on him. I wanted to be angry, to scream at him for putting me second yet again, but the truth was, I’d grown used to it. Resentment simmered just beneath the surface, but it was tempered by understanding.
Colson was who he was—a man driven by power, by ambition. He would never be the kind of husband who put me above all else. And if I was honest with myself, I wasn’t sure I’d ever truly wanted that.
He ended the call after what felt like an eternity, dropping the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. His shoulders sagged slightly as he turned to face me, his expression softening when he saw the look on my face.
“I’m sorry, Josephine,” he said, reaching out to touch my cheek. “That was important.”
“More important than me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, laced with more bitterness than I intended.
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t pull away. “You know that’s not true.”
I laughed, the sound brittle. “Isn’t it? Colson, you always take these calls. No matter what we’re doing, who we’re with—business comes first. I come… somewhere down the line.”
He frowned, his hand dropping to his side. “I provide for you. For us. That’s what this is.”
“And I’m grateful for that,” I said, my voice softening. “But sometimes, I just want to feel like I’m more than just another part of your empire. Like I’m more than just a piece in your game.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s not a game, Josephine. It’s our life. Our future. I’m trying to change. To not be who I was before we married.”
“Our future,” I echoed, the words feeling hollow. “I wonder sometimes… what kind of future that really is.”
He turned back to me, his gaze hard. “What are you saying?”
I hesitated, unsure of where to go from here. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to demand from him. But I knew Colson—knew his limits, knew the walls he’d built around himself. Pushing him too far would only push him away.
“I’m saying that I need more from you, Colson,” I finally said, my voice steady. “I need to know that I matter to you. Not just as your wife, but as a person. As someone you care about.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. Then, without a word, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. His grip was strong, almost desperate, as if he was trying to communicate something he couldn’t put into words.
I closed my eyes, letting myself melt into his embrace, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of my mind.
I wanted to believe that this was enough, that his silent apology was enough to make up for everything else.
But deep down, I knew that the cycle would continue—business would always come first, and I would always be second.
And one day, I might not be able to accept that anymore.
"Colson, I want a child."
I felt his body tense against mine, the warmth of our embrace turning cold in an instant. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room was filled with a thick, suffocating silence.
"That was a non-negotiable," he finally said, his voice low and firm. "And you signed the prenuptial agreeing to it."
His words hit me like a slap, a harsh reminder of the iron-clad terms that had defined our marriage from the beginning.
I had known about this clause, of course.
Colson had made it clear that children were off the table—his life was too complicated, too filled with business and obligations to entertain the idea of raising another child.
At the time, I’d agreed, convincing myself that I could be content with the life he offered. But now, standing in front of him, I realized just how much that decision was costing me.
"I know what I agreed to," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "But people change. I’ve changed, Colson. I thought I could live with it, but… I want more. I want a family. Our family."
His eyes hardened, and he stepped back, putting more distance between us. "We have a family, Josephine. You, me, and the life we’ve built together. That was the agreement."
"An agreement made under different circumstances," I countered, feeling a surge of frustration. "We were practically strangers then, and I didn’t know what I was giving up. I didn’t know how much I would want this."
Colson's jaw clenched, and I could see the gears turning in his mind, calculating the risk, the implications of what I was asking.
"This is not up for debate," he said sharply.
"I have my reasons, and they haven't changed.
I won't bring a child into this world only for them to become another pawn in the Ashworth legacy. You knew that."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. "But what about what I want? Don’t I get a say in this marriage? Or is it all just about you and your rules?"
He crossed his arms, his stance defensive. "You knew the rules when you married me. I was clear from the beginning, Josephine. This isn't something I can compromise on."
The finality in his tone cut deep, and for a moment, I felt like I was suffocating. I turned away from him, walking toward the window to gather my thoughts. The rain was still pouring outside, a relentless downpour that mirrored the madness inside me.
"I thought… I thought maybe you’d change your mind," I said quietly, staring out at the gray landscape. "That maybe, once we got to know each other better, you’d want what I want. I guess I was wrong."
Colson was silent, and the tension in the room was palpable. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was watching me, analyzing the situation like it was just another business transaction. But this was different. This was personal—this was about my future, our future.
"I can't change who I am," he finally said, his voice softer now, almost regretful. "And I won’t make promises I can’t keep."
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. This was it—the line in the sand. And now, I had to decide whether I could live with it.
Turning back to him, I met his gaze, my heart heavy with the weight of the decision before me. "And what if I can’t live with it, Colson? What then?"
His expression didn’t change, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, perhaps, or maybe just uncertainty.
"Then you’ll have to decide what matters most to you," he said quietly. "But know this—I won’t let you go easily, Josephine. You’re mine, and I don’t give up what’s mine. Remember your family."
His words were both a promise and a warning, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew he meant every word. Leaving Colson wouldn’t be simple or without consequences. But staying, knowing that my dreams of having a child would never come true… That was a different kind of prison.
I took a deep breath, my mind racing. "I need time," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Time to think."
Colson nodded, though his eyes remained locked on mine, as if trying to read the thoughts swirling in my head. "Take all the time you need," he said, but there was a tension in his voice that told me he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.
" Josephine… some things can't be undone."
As he left the room, the door closing softly behind him, I was left alone with my thoughts, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a heavy burden. What mattered most to me? And was I willing to sacrifice everything else for it?