Chapter 22
As we headed back to the hotel, Sloane went straight to her room while I slipped into mine.
I busied myself packing for our flight tomorrow back to Monaco.
Humming to myself, I zipped my luggage shut and set it aside.
Then I plopped down on the bed, stretching an arm across the sheets, staring at the ceiling with a smile that made me feel like I was losing my sanity.
A chime from my phone pulled me out of my thoughts. I reached for it on the nightstand—Sloane.
Still up? Can't sleep.
I was just about to type a response when a knock sounded at the door. Chuckling, I stood and checked the peephole. Sloane. I opened the door.
"Want to sleep here?" I offered, stepping aside.
She walked in, narrowing her eyes at me while I closed the door. "Why does that sound like you're not planning to let me sleep at all?"
I laughed, draping an arm around her shoulders as I pulled her closer on our way to the couch.
"Why? Do you want us to do something aside from sleep?" I wiggled my brows playfully, earning a scoff from her as we sat down.
She didn't answer, just stared at me for a moment. Then she sighed, resting her head against my shoulder.
"How's your arm? Still hurting?"
I hummed, wrapping my arms around her. "Not too much. Maybe the painkillers are working, but it's still throbbing."
She sighed again and sat up straighter, turning to face me. "Remember what I told you?" She pointed at my arm. "Take a full week of rest, okay? Don't overwork yourself."
I only nodded, eyes fixed on her face.
"Aurora, are you even listening?" she frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I am," I murmured, still watching her.
Her cheeks flushed, her ears turning red. She averted her gaze, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Then why are you looking at me... like that?"
My hand reached out, thumb brushing her cheek. I swallowed hard as I leaned in, slow. Our eyes locked for a moment before I closed the distance, pressing my lips to hers. I shut my eyes, pulling her closer as the world narrowed to the softness of her mouth.
Her hand cupped my face, answering my kiss. For a moment, the sound of our breaths and our lips meeting was all that filled the room. When we finally parted, our mouths wet and parted, we giggled softly, leaning in again—just inches away—when her phone rang.
Sloane froze, her palm stopping me before I could kiss her again.
I watched as she pulled her phone from her pocket, checking the screen. "Let me just take this call," she murmured, standing and slipping into my bedroom.
I sank back into the couch, throwing my head against the cushion, eyes shut. Her voice drifted faintly through the door, still speaking to whoever it was. I sighed, crossing one leg over the other, waiting.
After a while, I opened my eyes to find her standing beside me, phone still in hand.
"Done with the call?"
She nodded, shrugging lightly. "One of my business partners. Anyway... I should let you rest."
I blinked, standing with her. "You're not sleeping here?"
She arched a brow, a soft chuckle escaping. "It's not like we won't see each other tomorrow. Or every day back home." She turned toward the door.
I followed, sighing under my breath.
"Don't oversleep, okay? I'm not waking you if you don't get up on time," she teased, glancing back at me.
I stepped closer, knuckles grazing her cheek before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Can't you just stay? Please?"
Her laugh was soft, almost shy, as she slipped her phone into her robe pocket and wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands slid to her waist. We stared into each other's eyes, saying everything without words.
"I love you," Sloane whispered.
I bit back a grin, failing as heat rose to my face. She giggled, tiptoeing to brush her lips over mine. She tried to pull back, but I caught her, pulling her closer until her back thudded softly against the door.
"Ro..." she breathed into the kiss, tugging my hair as she deepened it.
I held her tighter, one hand sliding into her hair as my tongue teased hers. We stumbled toward the bedroom, kissing desperately. Her hand slipped under my shirt, caressing my abdomen, and a low groan escaped me.
At the vanity, I pressed her against the edge, shrugging out of my cardigan and letting it fall to the floor. My palms framed her face, the kiss growing hungrier.
"Sol," I whispered against her ear, brushing kisses along her earlobe. She tugged at my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it aside.
For a moment, we simply stared at each other. My hands moved to untie her silk robe, sliding the fabric from her shoulders until it pooled at her feet.
My knuckles skimmed her bare skin, and I sucked in a breath as the lamplight caressed her body. "God... you're divine, Sol."
Her soft laugh broke the tension, fingers threading through my hair as her gaze lingered on my lips. "And you're still the smooth talker, hmm?"
A smirk tugged at my mouth. "Only with you."
Her chuckle dissolved into another kiss, deeper this time. The sound of our mouths meeting filled the quiet room as her hand trailed down, slipping toward the waistband of my sweatpants.
I groaned, tilting my head back as her palm slid beneath my underwear, rubbing my length with a slow, deliberate touch. Her lips traced heat along my neck, and I braced my good arm against the vanity table behind her.
"Sloey..." The whisper left me ragged as her hand stroked me, warmth flooding every nerve.
"What's wrong? Already weak from just a few strokes, Ro?" she teased, her tongue flicking across my lips before trailing down my chest and stomach. With a swift tug, she pulled my sweatpants and underwear down in one motion, kneeling between my thighs.
Words abandoned me. My throat dried the moment her mouth closed around me. I threw my head back, my injured arm covering my eyes while my teeth sank into my lip to hold back a moan. My free hand gripped the vanity's edge so hard it creaked beneath my fingers.
Sloane's mouth was a furnace around me—wet, insistent, pulling me to the edge with every motion. I forced myself to look down, catching her gaze as her head bobbed in rhythm, eyes locked on mine.
My breath fractured. My hand slid into her hair, stroking before tugging gently. "Damn it, Sol," I hissed, gritting my teeth. With a firm pull, I drew her back, her lips glistening, parted. "Stand up."
Panting, she rose slowly, eyes darting up at me. Swallowing hard, I leaned in and kissed her, biting her lower lip until she gasped.
I spun us around, pressing her against the vanity. She clung to my neck, kissing me back with fire. As I broke away, I tugged her panties down. She kicked them off, helping me without hesitation.
"Thought you wanted me to focus on healing my arm first?" I whispered against her ear, letting my tongue graze her lobe.
She giggled, rubbing her hands over my shoulders. "Just tell me if you can't keep up tonight, Ro. I'll take care of myself back in my room." She shrugged playfully.
A growl tore from me as I bit her shoulder. "Who says you're allowed to touch yourself without me?" Straightening, I sucked my fingers, spit on my palm, and slid it between her thighs. She moaned, burying her face against my chest as I rubbed slow circles over her clit.
"Ro..." Her breath hitched, her hand clutching my arm. "Please, stop teasing me." Her words melted into a whimper, her slick heat betraying how ready she already was.
I hummed in satisfaction and turned her toward the mirror. "Bend over for me, Sloey. I'll take you from behind."
She obeyed, lowering herself over the vanity. Her reflection met mine in the mirror as I guided myself into her, her sharp gasp muffled by her own hand.
I lifted her silk lingerie out of the way, gripped her waist, and leaned forward, driving into her with slow, deep thrusts. "Every sound you make belongs to me, Sol. Don't hold them back." My laughter broke into heavy panting as I quickened my pace.
"Fuck you, Aurora—" she hissed, knuckles white on the vanity's edge. "You're going to break me with the way you're thrusting!"
I giggled, reaching for her cheeks as I thrust into her. I guided her gaze to the mirror. "Spread those pretty thighs for me, sweetheart. Let me tell you how much I've missed you."
She glared at me through the reflection, though her moans betrayed her. "Damn it, Ro," she hissed. "I can feel you against my stomach."
I hummed, wrapping an arm around her waist, feeling her legs wobble as every thrust made her whimper. "Look at you—squirming, shaking... all for me."
Sloane straightened, leaning her head back on my shoulder as she ground against me, hands tugging on my hair. "You make me feel so full, so owned. Don't stop."
Our breathing was ragged, but we moved in sync, each thrust echoing in the stillness of the room. Sloane gasped and groaned, pressing her body into mine with every motion.
"Ro," she groaned, lips parted. "I can't hold it anymore," she murmured, chest rising and falling.
I hummed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade. "It's okay, Sloey. Let go," I reassured her, holding her waist for support as I continued.
Her moans filled the room. A few more thrusts, and I felt the warmth of her release wrapping around me. She bent over, arms braced on the vanity, burying her face into them. I stayed with her, moving inside her until my own release coursed through me.
I threw my head back, groaning as my length throbbed inside her. Leaning down, I kissed her back, panting. Slowly, I withdrew, still holding her close. "You good, Sol?" I asked, carrying her to the bed.
Her eyes widened, and she smacked my shoulder. "Hey! Ro, your arm's still injured!"
"I can manage," I said, laying her down gently. I pressed a kiss to her forehead as I slipped beside her, wrapping my arm around her bare skin.
I didn't know how long we had been talking and cuddling before sleep finally claimed us, leaving the room in quiet disarray. I woke to a soft vibration somewhere in the dark. Frowning, I glanced at the faint light spilling across the floor.
Tossing aside the blanket, I swung my legs over the bed and looked at Sloane before heading toward the vanity. I picked up her phone, then mine lying nearby. Another vibration buzzed from her phone.
I stared at it, brow furrowed. "A call... at two in the morning?" I muttered, squinting at the screen. The name read: Margot Babe with a heart emoji. "Who's this Margot?" I whispered to myself. "And why is she saved like that?"
Curiosity pricked at me. Unlocking my phone, I dialed Sloane's number.
Her phone rang in my hand, the soft, familiar melody—a ringtone customized for me.
My name flashed on her screen: Wife with three heart emojis.
I couldn't help chuckling, though my mind still buzzed with questions about Margot.
?·???°???°???·?
Lounging on the couch, my gaze followed Sloane as she strode toward me. My brow furrowed when I noticed her dressed in formal attire. I blinked, closing the sketchpad in my lap. She sighed, clicking her tongue before giving me a sheepish smile.
"Where are you going?" I asked, reaching for the cup of tea on the table. I took a casual sip, watching her over the rim.
"Okay," she began carefully, sitting beside me as she set her designer bag down. "I know I told you I'd be working from home to check up on you. But I need to deal with one of our partner firms. There's been an issue with one of their investors, and they asked me to step in."
I hummed and placed the cup back on the table. My lips curved into a faint smile, though my thoughts tangled. That name—Margot—still lingered in the back of my mind. I wanted to ask, but... Instead, I exhaled. "Go on. It's your business after all."
She tilted her head, reaching out to cup my cheek. "Want to come with me?" she offered with a smile.
"It's your work, Sol. It's not like we could sneak a date while you're busy," I chuckled, shaking my head.
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she leaned back on the couch. "Why does it feel like you're not in the mood?" she asked.
Turning toward her, I forced another smile. "We just got back from Oxford a couple of hours ago, and now you're running straight to work. But I get it—it's your responsibility."
She sighed softly, then rested her head on my shoulder. "Ro... do you want to ask me something? I can feel something's bothering you."
My breath hitched. My teeth worried at my lip as I debated. Would she get mad if I admitted what I'd seen on her phone? If I asked who Margot really was? Swallowing hard, I let out a slow sigh. "Who exactly... in your business partners is that?"
Still resting against me, Sloane laced her hands around my uninjured one, clasping it tightly. "It's Margot. I don't know if you've heard of them? Their company's expanding here—they're originally from France."
"Margot," I echoed, forcing a small chuckle. "And what? Their surname is... Babe?"
Sloane burst into laughter, a genuine one that filled the room.
She sat up, facing me as her hands cupped my cheeks.
"So that's why you've been off?
" she teased, leaning in to kiss me playfully.
Pulling back, her smile softened. "It's Margot Verne—the owner of Maison Verne, the luxury champagne brand. "
I looked at her, her smile still lingering on her lips.
"Look," she sighed, holding my hand. "Margot was the one who set her contact name like that. She insisted." She pulled her phone out of her bag, her other hand still gripping mine.
She unlocked it and held the screen out for me to see. "Margot's like a sister to me. Besides, I started at her company right after I graduated. It's been saved like that ever since." She typed something quickly, then turned the phone back toward me.
The name had been changed to Margot.
Heat rushed to my face, and I avoided her gaze.
"Are you seriously jealous right now, Ro?" she scoffed, amusement flickering in her eyes.
"I am not." I clicked my tongue. "Why would I be jealous over someone? That's petty. Besides, I doubt she could even compare to me."
Sloane arched a brow, smiling slyly. "You're really so full of yourself. But... people at the office say Margot looks a lot like you."
My body stilled. I blinked. "What...?"
She shrugged, exhaling. "Well, she does—she resembles you. The younger you." Standing, she reached for her bag.
"Hey!" I shot up, putting down my sketchpad, finger pointing at her. "Are you trying to say I look older now?"
Sloane smacked her forehead, laughing as she waved a hand defensively.
"I didn't say that! I'm just telling you what I've heard.
Some people say Margot reminds them of the Dawn of the DeLacroix Couture and Luxury House.
And as far as I know, you're the only Dawn I've ever met from the DeLacroix clan.
So..." She shrugged again, eyes glinting.
Crossing my arms, I gave her a pointed look. "Then... if Margot looks like me, who's prettier?"
Sloane almost choked trying to stifle her laughter, her cheeks flaring red. She stepped close, pulled me down, and pressed a kiss to my lips. "Ro, are you serious right now?" she murmured against my smile.
I exhaled dramatically, wrapping her into a hug before biting her neck.
She shrieked and shoved me away, eyes wide as her hand flew to cover the spot. "Ro!"
"What? That's just a mark," I muttered, already sitting back down and opening my sketchpad to the page I'd left off.
"You're unbelievable," she clicked her tongue, though she softened, patting my head. "Anyway, I really need to go. I'll be back once the meeting's over. How about dinner tonight?"
I glanced up and nodded. "Sure. I'll fetch you—just call me when you're done."
Her brows knit with concern. "Are you sure you'll drive? Your arm's still sore. Why don't you let the driver take you? I'll drive us after." She smiled gently.
Groaning, I let out a sigh. "Fine, boss." I gave her a crooked smile. "Go on now. Be safe, okay? I love you."
"See you later. I love you more," she said, waving before heading toward the foyer. I overheard her speaking quietly with one of the housekeepers, instructing her to keep an eye on me.
I shook my head at her fussing, then muttered under my breath, "Margot Verne..."
Just as I was about to reach for my phone, the housekeeper approached, bowing slightly. "Ms. Aurora," she said, offering me an envelope. "This arrived yesterday. It seems confidential."
"Oh." I accepted it, forcing a faint smile. "Thank you."
My breath caught as my eyes landed on the bold print across the front: Confidential Medical Memorandum. I swallowed hard, clutching it tighter before gathering my phone and sketchpad and heading straight for the study.
Inside, I shut the door, turned the lock, and set my things on the desk. My hands trembled as I slid into the executive chair and carefully unsealed the envelope. A stack of documents slipped out, crisp and cold against my fingers.
BioSynthix Pharmaceutical Medical Group... Aurora DeLacroix.
My eyes traced the clinical words. Temporary clinical improvement: stabilized blood counts, decreased fatigue, improved pallor, and temporary reduction of infection risk.
A knot formed in my throat. My hand shook as I scanned further down the page. Improved quality of life. Benefit is limited. Prognosis—
The words blurred. I blinked rapidly, then gave a bitter laugh, snapping the document closed and shoving it back into the envelope.
I stood, pulled open the vault, and slid the envelope inside with the rest of my medical records. The door clicked shut, and I leaned back against it for a moment, dragging both hands down my face.
"Continuation until therapeutic failure," I muttered aloud, as if speaking it would make the weight of it any less real.
My gaze fell to my bandaged hand. I exhaled slowly. "Not yet. I'm not going anywhere. Not until I make my wife happy."