Chapter 14
The next morning, I found myself alone in my office, the sun streaming through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished mahogany desk.
I tried to lose myself in paperwork, but my mind kept drifting back to the events of the previous night.
The memory of Vaughn’s eyes on me as Colson made love to me gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, filling me with a mix of shame and anger.
I was so engrossed in my internal battle that I didn’t hear the door open until Vaughn’s voice sliced through the silence.
“Good morning, Josephine,” he drawled, closing the door behind him.
I looked up sharply, my heart skipping a beat. Vaughn stood there, his gaze locked on mine, a predatory smile playing on his lips. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure.
“What do you want, Vaughn?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.
He sauntered toward me, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. “You, mostly,” he said with a smirk, leaning against the edge of my desk. “But since that’s not on offer—yet—I figured I’d just talk.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. “Colson’s in a meeting,” I warned, hoping the mention of his father would deter him.
Vaughn chuckled, clearly unfazed. “I know. That’s why I’m here. No interruptions.”
I stood up, putting some distance between us, but Vaughn only followed, his eyes darkening with something that made my skin crawl.
“Last night was quite the show,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Watching you with him… God, Josephine, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
My breath caught in my throat. “You’re sick,” I hissed, backing away until I hit the wall. “How dare you!”
“How dare I?” Vaughn cut me off, stepping closer until there was barely an inch between us. “How dare you, Josephine! You knew I was there, watching. You kept looking at me. Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to see.”
I shook my head, the denial automatic, but his words struck a chord. I had seen him. I had locked eyes with him. And I hadn’t stopped Colson. The realization sent a wave of disgust crashing over me—disgust at Vaughn, but more so at myself.
“Why didn’t you say something to Colson?” Vaughn’s voice was a taunting whisper. “If you’re so disgusted by me, why didn’t you tell him his son was standing there, watching?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Vaughn’s smirk widened, sensing my hesitation.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “You didn’t say anything because you were embarrassed. Not by me, but by how much you enjoyed it.”
My cheeks burned with shame, the truth of his words slamming into my chest. I had been embarrassed. Not just because Vaughn had seen me, but because, in some twisted way, it had excited me. I hated myself for it, but there was no denying the thrill that had shot through me when our eyes met.
“Get out,” I managed to say, my voice trembling with a mixture of fury and humiliation.
Vaughn’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “You can pretend all you want, but I know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. And so do you.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the office, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I slumped against the wall, wrapping my arms around myself as if I could hold together the pieces that were threatening to come apart.
Vaughn’s words echoed in my mind, taunting me, refusing to be silenced.
What had I become? And how much further was I willing to fall?
The Sunday before Thanksgiving began like many others, with Colson waking me at an ungodly hour, pulling me from sleep with his insistent need. By now, I had grown accustomed to his early morning desires, but today felt different—more intense, more intimate.
He had me face down, my belly propped on a pillow, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered into my ear. "I have a surprise for you," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release.
I could barely form a thought, let alone words, as my own climax built to a fever pitch. “Can it wait until after we finish?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling.
Colson’s hand snaked around my waist, his fingers finding my clit with practiced ease.
He knew exactly how to push me over the edge, and within seconds, I shattered around him, crying out his name as he followed, thrusting deep and hard until he was spent.
He collapsed against my back, his heart pounding against my skin, his breath ragged in my ear.
"Colson?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice as he took longer than usual to recover.
"I'm fine," he murmured, pulling out and turning me to face him. "Just tired."
I chuckled softly, still riding the aftershocks of our lovemaking. "Maybe you shouldn’t wake me at 3 a.m. anymore."
He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes locking onto mine with a tenderness that was still so new, so unexpected. “I like waking you at 3 a.m.,” he said, his voice low and serious. “You make me feel alive again.”
Over the past few months of our marriage, moments like these had become more frequent. Colson was warming up to me, and though he’d never admit it, I could tell he was starting to care—maybe even love me.
“What’s the surprise?” I asked, curious now that the haze of lust was clearing.
A small, proud smile tugged at his lips. “Your parents’ home is complete.”
I blinked at him in confusion. “I thought you said no to the purchase.”
“It wasn’t a purchase,” he corrected, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “It’s a new build in my Whittington Development. A thirty-five hundred square foot, four-bedroom, three-bath home with everything they could ever want.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them.
Of all the things Colson had done for me, this was by far the most meaningful.
I had been prepared to fight him on this, to convince him to let me buy a home for my parents.
But he had gone above and beyond, gifting them something far greater than I could have imagined.
He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, his touch gentle. “You’re welcome, Joey. I was wrong. Family is everything. We’ll present them the deed on the holiday.”
I was still trying to process the enormity of his gesture when Colson winced, a flicker of pain crossing his features.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, immediately concerned.
“It’s nothing,” he said, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “I strained a muscle while working out. We should get a few more hours of sleep if you want to be fresh for Vaughn’s party.”
Vaughn had moved out of the mansion a month ago, buying his own place on the far side of town.
The move had been a relief; his presence in the house had become increasingly unsettling, especially after he’d intruded on that intimate moment between Colson and me.
His aggression had been building, his agitation growing as Colson and I became closer.
But now, as Colson smiled at me, the last remnants of Vaughn’s intrusion melted away.
There were still questions I needed answers to, like why Colson’s father had bankrupted my grandfather, but those were for another time.
For now, I chose to focus on the man in front of me—the man who, despite everything, was slowly winning my heart.
Every day, I felt myself falling deeper for him, and it wasn’t just one-sided.
Colson was changing too. He smiled more, his touch was gentler, and he was rarely rough like he had been on that night on the yacht.
For the first time since we married, I allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, we could be something real.
Vaughn's new mansion was as grand as expected, a testament to his need to outdo Colson, but it lacked warmth. The coldness of its grandeur pressed on me as I wandered the halls, seeking some respite from the crowd. I wasn’t interested in the champagne or the laughter echoing from the living room.
Instead, I found myself drawn to the solarium, where the late fall sun filtered through the glass ceiling, casting prisms of light that danced along the floor.
It was beautiful—serene. The kind of place where I could lose myself in a book while the snow danced outside.
A place that, if it were mine, I could fill with warmth and love.
But it wasn’t mine, and it never would be.
This was Vaughn’s domain, and his misery hung in the air, as palpable as the dust motes floating in the sunlight.
I had spent the past two hours watching Serena cling to him, her desperate need for validation clear in every gesture.
Vaughn had never looked more miserable, his eyes hollow and his smiles forced.
The engagement ring on her finger was as much a shackle for him as it was a symbol of commitment.
I pitied him, truly. He was trapped in a future he didn’t want, while I—despite everything—had a chance for something real with Colson.
Even if that chance didn’t include children.
The thought stung, but I pushed it aside. There was no room for regret in my life. I had made my choices, and I would live with them.
“Running away from the crowd, Josephine?”
Vaughn’s voice startled me from my thoughts. I turned to find him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a darkness that hadn’t been there before.
“I needed some air,” I replied, my voice steady. “It’s beautiful in here.”
“It is,” he agreed, stepping into the solarium. The light caught the edges of his features, softening the hard lines of his face. For a moment, he looked like the boy I had once known, before life had twisted us into who we were now.
He moved closer, his presence unsettling. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
I shrugged, trying to keep things light. “It’s your party, Vaughn. You have plenty of other guests to entertain.”
“None of them interest me,” he said, his gaze locking onto mine. “Not like you do.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine at the intensity in his voice. There was a rawness to him that I hadn’t seen in a long time, something feral and uncontained.
“Vaughn…” I started, but he cut me off.
“Do you know what I see when I’m with Serena?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, like a blade hidden in silk.
I didn’t answer, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
“I see you, Josephine,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every time I touch her, every time I kiss her, it’s your face I see. Your body I want.”
“Stop it,” I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “This isn’t appropriate. You’re engaged, Vaughn. You asked her to marry you.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I made a mistake. A mistake I’m paying for every damn day. But you…” He stepped closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “You’re the fire I crave, the one thing that keeps me alive in this frozen hell.”
I recoiled, disgusted by his words. “If you’re so disgusted with your life, then why don’t you do something about it? Why don’t you leave her?”
“And face the wrath of my father?” he asked, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “You know better than that, Josephine. We don’t get to choose our own happiness. Not in this family.”
I turned away from him, trying to gather my thoughts. His words were cutting, too close to the truth I didn’t want to face. “You don’t have to live like this, Vaughn.”
He grabbed my arm, forcing me to face him. “And what about you? If you’re so disgusted by me, why didn’t you say something to Colson? Why didn’t you tell him I was watching that night? I waited for him to approach me, but he never did.”
My mouth went dry, and I had no answer. The truth was too humiliating to admit.
“You were ashamed,” he said, reading my silence. His grip on my arm tightened. “But not disgusted. No, you liked it, didn’t you? Knowing I was watching while my father fucked you.”
I didn’t want to rehash this. I jerked my arm free, the force of his words hitting me like a slap. “You’re gross, Vaughn. This obsession with me—it’s twisted.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re part of it now, whether you want to be or not.”
I backed away, needing to put distance between us. “Stay away from me. I’m not going to let you ruin what little I have.”
He watched me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You can’t run from this. We’re tied together, you and me.”
I turned and fled the solarium, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to get back to Colson, to the safety of his arms. But even as I ran, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Vaughn was right—that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be free of him.