Chapter 56
Stepping out of the seaplane, I smiled at Aurora as she extended her hand toward me. I slid mine into hers, taking the final step onto the dock. Staff from the villa greeted us with warm smiles, champagne, and garlands of fresh flowers.
A wooden sign stood nearby, adorned with white orchids: Welcome to the Newlyweds, Mrs. Mrs. DeLacroix.
A photographer waited in front of it, camera poised.
"This way, please," one of the staff said, ushering us toward the sign.
Aurora had been silent the entire time, and disappointment gnawed at me. She could at least pretend to enjoy the moment. The least she could do was act like the wife she signed up to be.
"Ladies," the photographer called out, smiling, "a little closer, please."
I nodded and slipped my hand into Aurora's, stepping closer until my chest brushed her arm.
She tilted her head slightly, resting it against mine as we both smiled for the camera.
The photographer clicked away, capturing frame after frame of the perfect couple.
After the staff congratulated us again, I leaned toward Aurora, tugging her hand closer to mine. I tiptoed, bringing my lips near her ear.
"You should keep up the act," I whispered, pressing a light kiss to her cheek before flashing a bright smile at the staff.
"Can we just go to the villa, please?" she murmured, her voice low and strained. "I feel dizzy."
I shot her a look, masking my concern beneath irritation. Turning back to the staff, I exchanged a few pleasantries about the ceremony and the island. Aurora remained silent, but I felt her hand tighten around mine—as if she might collapse.
Suppressing a sigh, I finally turned to the staff with a polite smile. "If you'll excuse us, my wife and I will enjoy our honeymoon."
The male attendants carried our luggage toward the overwater villa. Aurora and I followed hand in hand along the sunlit path. She kept her sunglasses on, her expression unreadable. I couldn't tell if she was truly dizzy or just avoiding the cameras.
Inside, the villa was a dream, the scent of salt and jasmine drifting through the open doors. As the staff set down our bags, I nodded in thanks when they handed me the keys.
"Thank you," I said, before closing the door behind them.
The moment the latch clicked, I released Aurora's hand. She stumbled toward the couch and collapsed, groaning as she tilted her head back and crossed one leg over the other.
"What's wrong with you?" I hissed, crossing my arms. "Did you forget there were cameras? I told you to keep up the act. One wrong move and our entire strategy—"
"Sol," she interrupted, her voice rasping as she removed her sunglasses and tossed them aside. "Can we not do this right now? I just need to rest."
A scoff escaped me as I stared at her, bewildered. Did she just cut me off? The audacity of this woman. I strode toward her and stopped in front of the couch, jabbing a finger in her direction.
"That!" I hissed. "That is why your empire's collapsing. You don't care about what people think. You make yourself vulnerable. No wonder they've taken advantage of you."
She looked up at me and rolled her eyes, groaning harshly as she slouched deeper into the couch. "I've been in this business longer than you, Sol. Spare me the lecture."
My brow arched, lips parting in disbelief. I couldn't believe what was escaping her mouth right now. My eyes narrowed.
"Your biggest mistake was getting too comfortable. You thought you could control everything—look at the result. Lost fortune, lost standing. If your grandmother and mother were alive, do you think they'd be proud of this?"
My words hit their mark. I saw the stiffness in her shoulders, the way her eyes darkened as she drew in a deep breath.
"Fine," she scoffed, pushing herself to her feet. "It's my fault. My mistake. Happy? Now, can I rest?"
She turned her back to me before I could say anything else. I swallowed hard, the weight of my own words settling on my chest. I had gone too far—and I knew it. I'd touched the wound she tried so hard to hide.
Ro... I whispered silently, my gaze lingering on her back.
She paused in the doorway of the bedroom. "Wait. Why is there only one bed?" she asked, turning toward me.
I tilted my head, crossing my arms with a scoff. "Why don't you tell me? You're the one who booked it, Ro. Forgot to check?"
Aurora's brows knitted as she fumbled with her phone. "Shit," she muttered.
I sighed and stepped closer, snatching the phone from her hand. My lips twitched in disbelief. "Really, Aurora?" I rolled my eyes and shoved the phone back to her.
She raised her hands in surrender, giving me a sheepish look. "Okay, okay. My fault. You take the bed, I'll take the couch. Problem solved."
I glanced at the couch, then at her. Pressing the bridge of my nose, I exhaled sharply. "Forget it. Just sleep on the bed too."
The couch was far too small for her height—she'd end up curled uncomfortably all night. My gaze darted back to her, and I caught the faint raise of her brow.
"You can't sleep properly on that couch. You'll get cramps," I muttered, brushing past her before she could tease me. "Besides," I added, shrugging in an attempt to hide my flustered face, "we're legally married anyway."
Sleeping beside each other shouldn't have been a big deal. That's what I told myself, at least.
But my steps faltered when I felt her hand close around my wrist. "Aurora!" I hissed, turning to glare at her. "What the hell do you want now?"
I tried to pull away, but her grip only tightened. She tugged me closer, and my heartbeat quickened. "Sol..." she whispered—the name she used to call me, her sun.
My throat went dry. I tried to take a step back, but my body refused to move.
Then she leaned in, closing the space between us, and kissed me. I stood frozen, breath caught in my chest, not responding—until she finally pulled back.
My eyes locked on her, trying to process what had just happened. I wanted to slap her—because I never said anything about being intimate on our honeymoon—but my body, every nerve and muscle, felt like it was surrendering to Aurora alone.
Her hand cupped my cheek, then she tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. We stared at each other, breath caught between us. For fuck's sake, after all these years, I could still feel the impact of her eyes like a punch to the chest.
I held my breath, unable to muster a single word to object—or the strength to step away. She leaned in again, kissing me. This time it was deeper, hungrier, until my knees trembled beneath me as she claimed my lips.
My fingers instinctively wrapped around her neck for balance, and she pulled me closer by the waist. I gasped for air, but she only deepened the kiss, guiding me backward toward the bedroom.
We stumbled, laughing softly between kisses, but neither of us pulled away. My fingers tangled in her hair as she laid me down on the mattress, climbing over me. My face burned when her fingertips brushed my cheek.
I reached for her shirt, sliding it up and over her head before tossing it aside. She looked at me as if she couldn't believe I was real—then leaned down again, capturing my lips, biting gently until a sharp gasp escaped me.
Her fingers slipped down the straps of my sundress, her lips following the path to my jaw, my neck, my collarbone—as though she meant to mark every inch she'd lost. I groaned, tugging at her hair as my back arched into her touch.
Her hand trailed over my thigh, tugging at the fabric hiding my core. My breath hitched as my own hand wandered down her abdomen to the waistband of her trousers. I slid my fingers inside, brushing over the firm bulge beneath.
"Shit," I muttered, head tipping back when she bit my shoulder and licked a slow line down to my chest. My hand kept moving, stroking her through her boxers.
I couldn't hold back anymore.
In one motion, I switched our positions, straddling her.
Running a hand through my hair, I looked down at her with a smirk.
"What now, Ro?" I teased, tugging down her trousers and boxers.
"Losing your touch after being celibate for over a decade? "
A low laugh escaped her as she clicked her tongue. "Oh? Try me, Sol."
Tilting my head, I smirked back, wrapping my hand around her shaft and stroking painfully slow.
Aurora reached up, yanking my dress over my head and tossing it aside.
My breath caught when our eyes met—her gaze dark and steady on me.
Still stroking her, I shifted, lowering myself over the tip, feeling her warmth meet mine.
A sharp breath escaped me as I sank down, a groan tearing from my throat at the stretch and heat of her inside me. Before I could move, she flipped our positions again, her control returning like instinct.
My hands slid over her abdomen, tracing the faint lines of muscle beneath her skin. She'd lost some definition since before we broke up, but her body was still breathtaking—strong, familiar, alive.
Her hand gripped my hip as she braced herself against the headboard with the other, starting to move. A gasp escaped me, my lower lip caught between my teeth as I tried to suppress the sounds bubbling up, but failed—soft whimpers spilled out with every thrust.
Goddamn it. My thoughts shattered as I felt her fully inside me, filling me completely. Aurora's lips parted, eyes fixed on me, her rhythm deep and deliberate.
"Sol," she groaned, thrusting forward, then back again—harder, deeper each time. "Fuck, Sol."
Her voice broke against my skin, and I gasped and moaned beneath her, every sound swallowed by the heat between us.
I switched our positions again, straddling her with her shaft still buried deep inside me.
Her eyes widened as I began to move, rolling my hips, grinding slowly.
My hands gripped her shoulders for balance while my head tilted back, lips parted as I let myself sink into the sensation of her—of us.
Each motion found its rhythm, a steady dance of want and resentment. The sound of our bodies echoed through the room, a mix of gasps, moans, and slick, relentless friction.
Twelve years, and my body still craved her as if no time had passed. As if it still belonged to her. And I hated it, hated that she could still make me feel this way.
When I looked down, she was already sitting up, one hand braced behind her, the other gripping my waist, matching my movements. "Damn, Sol," she rasped, biting my shoulder. "You're fucking perfect."
I grabbed her face, forcing her to look at me. "Isn't that the same line you used to say every time you fucked me before?" My voice broke between moans, sharp and bitter. "You used me back then—and now look at me. Letting the same person ruin me all over again."
Before she could answer, I crushed my lips against hers, kissing her hard, desperate, claiming her. She's my wife, whether she loves me or not. Mine—and no one else's.
I bit her lower lip, and she gasped. I took the chance, sliding my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues battled, matching the rhythm of our bodies. My arms looped around her neck as I ground harder, faster, losing myself in her.
My body tensed, trembling as the pressure built inside me. Between ragged breaths and half-swallowed moans, I felt Aurora pull me closer, thrusting up into me.
A strangled groan escaped my lips as release tore through me. My walls clenched around her, my body shuddering in waves. I felt her warmth spill deep inside, thick and hot, filling me until I couldn't tell where I ended, and she began.
Panting, I collapsed against her shoulder. "You alright, Sol?" she murmured, her palm moving slowly along my back. A soft kiss brushed my skin.
I nodded but didn't speak. I just stayed there—silent, buried in her heat.
Aurora said nothing more. She eased us down onto the mattress, still joined, her arms wrapping around me. One hand stroked my hair; the other traced idle circles on my back.
I hated myself.
I hated that I missed her. I hated that even after everything—after the years, the pain, the betrayal—it was still her.
My fingers dug into her skin, eyes squeezed shut as I pressed my face into her neck, feeling her pulse, her breath, her presence.
She was still inside me, throbbing—a cruel reminder that I could never really let her go.
?·???°???°???·?
When I woke, I found myself clinging to Aurora's shoulder, my cheek buried against her chest. A lump formed in my throat as I realized we were both still naked beneath the sheets. I cleared my throat and slowly eased her arm off me, careful not to wake her.
A deep sigh escaped as I sat up, the blanket pooling around my waist. My brows furrowed when my gaze fell on her abdomen. I stared for a long moment before tracing a fingertip over the faint bruises and the small, needle-like scars scattered across her skin.
"What the hell are these?" I whispered, leaning closer.
Aurora stirred, shifting on the mattress. Her brows pinched, but her eyes stayed closed. I froze, pulling my hand back as if burned.
Biting my lip, I brushed her hair aside and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. The simple gesture sent a pang through my chest. I swallowed hard and forced myself to move away, heading for the bathroom—still completely naked.
Inside, I closed the door and stared at my reflection. My jaw dropped as I leaned closer to the mirror, fingertips brushing the faint marks on my neck and shoulders.
"This idiot," I muttered under my breath. Hickeys. Dozens of them. "Oh, God." I groaned, dragging both hands through my damp hair.
"Okay, Sloane," I whispered to myself. "Shower first. Then figure out how to cover the evidence of our honeymoon's... disaster."
I cupped my cheeks, gave them a light pat, and stepped under the shower. Warm water cascaded over my skin, washing away the fog of sleep and whatever sense of denial I had left.
As the water ran down my arms, I lifted my left hand and stared at the ring on my finger. A disbelieving laugh slipped from my lips. "I'm officially married to my ex," I murmured, shaking my head.
When I was done, I wrapped myself in a robe and stepped back into the bedroom.
Aurora was still fast asleep. I sighed and toweled my hair dry before rummaging through my suitcase.
Two dresses—one red, one white—lay folded neatly inside.
I pulled them out along with my undergarments.
Humming softly, I set the white dress on the edge of the bed and slipped into my clothes. In the mirror, I frowned. The red fabric made the marks on my skin more obvious, their dark edges peeking through no matter how I adjusted the neckline.
Clicking my tongue, I grabbed my makeup kit and sat at the vanity. I dabbed and blended foundation across my skin, trying to erase the evidence. Some marks faded; others refused to disappear.
"It's just too dark," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Whatever. It's not like I got them from a stranger."
I shrugged and began styling my hair, forcing a faint smile when I caught my reflection. Once satisfied, I turned toward the bed where Aurora still lay curled beneath the sheets.
"Ro," I called softly, brushing her cheek.
She frowned, groaning without opening her eyes.
"Ro, wake up. We're going to be late for the exclusive party." I clicked my tongue, shaking her shoulder.
"Let's skip it, Sol," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
I sighed and tugged her upright. "Come on. Don't tell me you're too weak to stand beside me, Ro." I teased, though the irritation lacing my tone was hard to hide.
I mean, I could basically just go to the party alone—but where's the fun in that?
Aurora sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes gently. She blinked, adjusting to the light, then froze, staring straight at me.
My brow arched. "Are you planning to stare all night?"
She cleared her throat, snatched her robe from the chair, and wrapped it tightly around her body before standing. "Let me just pick something—" Her voice trailed off when she noticed the dress lying on the edge of the bed.
"Just wear that," I said with a shrug. "Picked it out myself. Come on, Ro. Don't make me wait."
She glanced at me, then rushed toward the bathroom. "Right. Just a few minutes."
I smiled faintly as the door clicked shut. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I stepped out of the bedroom and called Dione on video. Lowering the volume, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Aurora was still inside.
The line rang a few times before Dione's face appeared on screen. "Hi, sweetie," I greeted, waving playfully as I sank onto the couch.
"Mommy!" she squealed, grinning. "Where were you?"
"I'm in the Maldives, sweetie—" I lifted my left hand and wiggled my fingers so she could see the ring. "—with your mommy number two. Officially married."
Dione gasped, covering her mouth. "I want to go back to Monaco right now, Mommy! I want to see her already!"
I chuckled softly, nodding. "I know, sweetheart. But I'm planning to tell her the truth on our first wedding anniversary. You'll have to wait a little longer."
Her smile faltered. "I know, Mommy... but why?"
My expression softened. "Because I want to see if she's truly capable of accepting you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "And if she's capable of loving me for real this time."
"Mommy? What was that?" Dione frowned. "I couldn't hear you."
I smiled gently. "I said, I want you to be my surprise for our first wedding anniversary."
If Aurora could prove she loved me for real—if she could prove she was worth the second chance she begged for—then, and only then, would I tell her about Dione. I wouldn't let her games touch my daughter. Not ever.
The sound of running water stopped. My body went still. "Dione, sweetheart, Mommy has to go now. I'll call you later, okay? I love you. Take care." I waved before hanging up.
"I love you, Mommy!" she said before the call ended.
I stood and leaned against the doorframe, watching through the mirror as Aurora emerged from the bathroom. Our eyes met briefly before I pushed myself to move closer.
"Still the same size," I said, nodding in approval. Her curves glowed under the soft light, her skin radiant. Sometimes I wondered how she managed to hide her bulge when she wore dresses. The thought almost made me scoff.
She caught my gaze, brow raised. I reached out, cupping her cheek. Up close, she looked paler than usual—unsettlingly so. "Is it just the lighting, or have you really gone this pale?"
Aurora scoffed softly. "Maybe. Haven't seen much sun lately. Been busy." Her eyes wandered down my body, lingering. "Are you sure you're going to...?"
I laughed, amused by her hesitation. "What's there to hide? It's not like I got these from a stranger. They're from my wife." I shrugged, letting go of her face. "Now, are you done?"
"Y-yeah, I'm done," she mumbled, voice cracking as she grabbed her watch from the nightstand.
I extended a hand toward her, offering a faint smile. "Then let's go to Subsix."
We walked side by side, our hands still tangled together. I could feel Aurora's gaze flickering toward me now and then, but she stayed quiet, and so did I. Then, without warning, she released my hand and slid her arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
I didn't pull away. I didn't react at all. I just kept walking beside her, our bodies too close, letting her guide me to the club.
When we stepped inside, the party was already alive, music pulsed through the air, and lights shimmered across the glass walls, illuminating the ocean beyond. Schools of fish drifted through the blue glow like living constellations.
We made our way to our reserved table and ordered food.
Neither of us said a word; we simply sat there, letting the hum of the crowd fill the silence.
Still, I could feel her gaze brushing against me, again and again.
I sighed and turned my attention to the dish in front of me.
Twirling the pasta around my fork, I lifted it toward her. "Ro," I said softly, looking at her. "Here."
She looked at me for a moment before leaning forward and taking the bite. I tilted my head, watching as she chewed slowly. She nodded in quiet approval, though she didn't say a word—and she didn't have to.
I returned to my meal, only to pause when she placed a few slices of meat onto my plate. My eyes flicked up at her.
"Figured you'd like that," she said with a shrug, spearing a piece of meat and holding it out to me.
Tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, I leaned in and took a bite. My eyes widened as flavor burst across my tongue. I covered my mouth with my hand. "It's tender—juicy," I murmured, smiling.
She smiled back.
The rest of the meal passed in a quiet rhythm of glances and small gestures—some directed at me, some from others in the room toward Aurora.
My gaze drifted to her again. She looked perfectly at ease, sipping champagne and occasionally turning toward the glass walls where fish glided through the neon water.
I took a sip of my own champagne, set the glass down, and stood.
Aurora noticed immediately. Her brows knit together in faint confusion. "Where are you going?"
"Washroom," I said, walking off without waiting for a reply.
Inside, I found an empty cubicle and locked the door. Halfway through, I heard the main door open and a faint female voice echo across the tiled walls.
"Oh, I heard she's a billionaire. Why don't you just try asking her out?" the voice said, followed by a light laugh. "According to the article, she's the owner of DeLacroix Couture Luxury House."
My brow arched. Are they talking about Ro? I wondered, rinsing off and grabbing a tissue.
Their conversation dipped lower, hushed, but I caught the occasional word—"Aurora," "investment," "opportunity.
" I flushed the toilet and stepped out of the cubicle.
A woman stood at the sink, phone in hand, her reflection meeting mine in the mirror.
I ignored her, turning on the faucet to wash my hands.
Maybe they were just curious fans. I sighed and dried my hands before tossing the napkin in the bin. She was still talking on her phone when I left.
Knowing Aurora, she wouldn't entertain strangers easily—unless she wanted to.
When I returned to our table, my steps faltered. A man stood in front of Aurora, leaning in far too close, while she remained seated. My jaw tightened. I glanced toward the washroom door. So that's her, I thought, my irritation flaring.
"Careful," I said lightly as I approached, sliding into my seat beside Aurora.
I reached out and rested my hand over hers on the table.
"She's already spoken for," I added with a sweet smile, lifting my hand just enough for the man to see the wedding ring on my finger—then pointed to the matching one on Aurora's.
The man's face flushed crimson. He stammered out an apology before retreating in a hurry. Aurora chuckled under her breath, clearly enjoying the display.
I lifted my champagne and took a sip, pretending not to notice her grin.
Then she leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Sloey," she murmured, smiling. "Dance with me."
My grip on the glass faltered, but I caught myself and smiled back. "Of course, Ro."
She stood and offered me her hand. I set my glass down, sliding my fingers into hers as I rose from my seat.
Well... a little fun with her won't hurt, right?