Chapter 17 #2
Or maybe it was me. Maybe it was the way he had begun to look at me, with something softer in his eyes.
Or the way he had started to touch me, not just with possession but with tenderness.
Maybe it was the small moments we shared—the quiet conversations late at night, the way he reached for me in the dark, as if needing my presence to ground him.
It wasn’t just the grand gestures, like the house he built for my parents, or the way he had started to confide in me, sharing pieces of himself I never thought I’d see.
It was the little things—the way he smiled at me when he thought I wasn’t looking, the way he listened when I spoke, the way he held me when I needed comfort.
And now, as I sat here, my mind still reeling from Vaughn’s anger and the secrets I had yet to uncover, all I could think about was him. Colson. The man who had become so much more than the villain in my story. The man who had somehow, impossibly, become the center of my world.
I hated him for making me feel this way. I hated myself for allowing it to happen. But love doesn’t care about logic or reason. It doesn’t care about the past or the wounds still healing. Love just is. And it was there, undeniable and overwhelming, filling every corner of my heart.
He promised me a child, something that was once a non-negotiable. And the documents I found. How could he? Was it possible that the glacial Colson Ashworth loved me too? A man who I thought incapable of such an emotion?
But what did it mean? What did it mean for us, for this fragile bond we had begun to build? Could I trust him with this newfound love? Or would he shatter it, like so many other things?
It wasn’t until a week later that I found the opportunity to slip back into Colson’s office and revisit the documents I had found.
The memory of them had been gnawing at me, a constant, uneasy itch at the back of my mind.
But when I opened the drawer, my heart sank—empty. Just like the closet had been.
Colson knew. He had known I’d been here.
I glanced up at the ceiling, scanning for any sign of the cameras that had surely caught me. But I couldn’t see anything, just the smooth surface of the ceiling staring back at me, blank and indifferent. How long had he known? And why hadn’t he said anything?
In fact, he hadn’t said a word about it.
Since that day, he’d been treating me more like a wife than the mere decoration I’d felt like before.
We’d made love several times, and each time, the connection between us deepened.
With my birth control shot nearing its expiration, the thought of getting pregnant fluttered in my chest, making me almost giddy with anticipation.
A few days from now, I would be turning twenty-four.
If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be married to a man like Colson Ashworth, that I’d be a millionaire in my own right, I would’ve laughed in disbelief.
But here I was. My family was secure, my father’s business thriving, my mother finally pursuing the career she’d always wanted, and Logan excelling in his own life.
It was everything I could have asked for, yet the shadow of Colson’s secrets loomed over it all, casting doubt on the happiness I was beginning to feel.
I hurried down the hall, anxious to leave the office before Orville caught me.
That man had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere, lurking in the dark corners of the house.
I didn’t care for him much, but he’d been with the Ashworth family for nearly thirty years, and I knew better than to underestimate him.
When Colson sent me home on time, saying he had a dinner meeting, I was relieved to have the evening to myself. But as I entered the darkened kitchen, the cold air seemed to seep into my bones, and I decided to make some tea to warm myself.
As I waited for the water to boil, I noticed movement outside. A figure, tall and broad-shouldered, was heading toward the guest house. My heart quickened. Simone was already home—I’d seen the lights on in the distance. But who was this man?
Simone didn’t have a regular lover, and I could understand why. She was strong-willed, arrogant, and teetering on the edge of narcissism. The thought of her with someone was hard to imagine, yet here was a man walking with purpose toward her quarters.
I felt a shiver run down my spine, but it wasn’t from the cold. I was just grateful that Colson had protected me after Simone had tried to kill me—not once, but twice. I’d learned to be wary of her. No more fresh lemonade for me, no matter how much I liked it.
The kettle whistled, jolting me back to the present. As I poured the hot water over the tea leaves, my mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. There was something off about tonight, something that didn’t sit right.
I lifted the cup of tea to my lips, savoring the warmth as it spread through me.
The subtle aroma of chamomile filled the air, calming my nerves after the unsettling events of the evening.
But just as I began to relax, I heard the soft tread of footsteps behind me.
I didn’t turn, assuming it was Colson. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped me, and a sense of comfort washed over me as his hands slid around my waist, pulling me close.
He pressed a kiss to my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I closed my eyes, leaning into his embrace as his hips ground into me, his arousal unmistakable. The instant reaction of my body was beyond my control—my nipples tightened, responding to the heat of his touch.
But as his hands roamed up to my breasts, kneading them with a possessive grip, something felt wrong. I glanced down, expecting to see the familiar glint of Colson’s wedding band on his hand. Instead, an onyx ring caught my eye, stark and unfamiliar.
My heart stopped. This wasn’t Colson.
I tensed, a surge of panic coursing through me.
Without thinking, I drove my elbow into the ribs of the man behind me.
He gasped, the sound of his breath catching as he momentarily loosened his hold.
I seized the opportunity, shoving him away with all my strength and darting around the kitchen island, putting distance between us.
Colson entered the kitchen just as I stumbled back, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. His sharp gaze immediately took in the scene—me, disheveled and wide-eyed, and Vaughn clutching his side where I’d struck him.
Colson’s frown deepened, his voice laced with controlled anger as he spoke. “What’s going on here?”
Vaughn rubbed his chin, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Nothing. I was just asking Josephine where you were.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Colson said, his tone cold. “Is there a reason you are?”
Vaughn shrugged, the nonchalance in his demeanor making my skin crawl. “Just wanted to check in. But it seems like I’m interrupting.”
Colson’s eyes flicked between us, suspicion simmering just beneath the surface. “Then I suggest you leave.”
Vaughn lingered a moment longer, his gaze fixed on me, a silent challenge in his eyes. Then, with a slight nod, he turned and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving an icy tension in his wake.
As his footfalls faded, Colson turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Are you okay?” His voice softened, a stark contrast to the hard edge he’d used with Vaughn.
I nodded, still trying to steady my racing heart. “I’m fine… now.”
But the truth was, I wasn’t. Vaughn had crossed a line…
again, and the threat he posed was becoming more real with each passing day.
And yet, as I met Colson’s eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what had just happened.
The bond between father and son was complicated, and the last thing I wanted was to ignite a fire that could burn us all.