7. The Misunderstanding
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MISUNDERSTANDING
Sophie
There’s something so satisfying about watching all of my hard work fall into place. The glittering candles, the magnolia blooms spilling over every surface, the carefully chosen linens brushing the floor beneath the tables… it turned out better than I could’ve ever expected. A large part of me thrives on the chaos of planning—the orchestration, the details, the feeling of coming up with an amazing idea. I like the control of it all. In a way, it’s the same reason I learned how to braid horse manes as a girl. Each tiny section woven with precision until there wasn’t a single strand out of place.
For the past four months, I’ve poured myself into planning a night like this. Every tiny decision, from the champagne pairings to the imported truffles, was curated by me. Julian keeps calling me his little project manager , and though he’s joking, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right.
My eyes take in how clean everything looks, considering how covered in dust everything was yesterday. I sip my champagne, adjusting one of the tall candlesticks that looks a half inch out of line.
The tables are full of our favorite English foods and champagne, the string quartet is playing in the courtyard, and Julian’s art arrived last week, which gives the whole place a lived-in feel, despite all the work only finishing two days ago. Plus, my collection of books is perched on every shelf space I could find, making me feel like I’m finally home.
What will I do when this is over?
Can I spend my days in the library, getting lost in books? God, that would be a dream come true. I wonder if there’s a job that would allow me to work with books all day long—aside from being a writer, because I’m rubbish at writing.
Perhaps I should think about becoming a librarian. I’m sure Julian would love that, too. It’s probably a fantasy of his.
I let my eyes drift across the grand room. People are filtering in, and I make note of the attendants. We’d really invited everyone we knew: Julian’s art clients, a few friends from my Pilates classes, Kai and his brothers, as well as their partners, and a lot of people Stella had introduced me to over the last couple of months. And then there are also people we’d met at Inferno .
There’s excitement buzzing in the air, but something tugs at the back of my mind.
The party feels too perfect. Too polished. That same feeling of claustrophobia clings to my throat, and I swallow the panic down.
Maybe that’s the problem. This house was supposed to be an escape from the life I left behind in London, but I can still hear my mother’s voice lingering in the formality of it all.
The party sparkles under the chandelier’s soft glow, but it’s like I can still hear her.
A lady never lets her guests see the cracks, Sophie.
Smile, even if the house is burning down around you.
I blink and sip my champagne, but the echo of her voice lingers, curling around the edges of the evening.
What happens after tonight?
The thought feels selfish, like a betrayal of all the work I’ve done. This is my home now. Our palace without the prestige that usually comes with a palace. The name is ironic… a play on his upbringing. It was supposed to be a grand project to nurture and fuss over, but the thought of waking up tomorrow without another party to plan or wallpaper to choose feels… hollow.
Maybe I need more than just parties and renovations.
Maybe I need something that doesn’t get packed away at the end of the night.
Julian slips behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His familiar scent of bergamot makes me sigh and close my eyes briefly as I smile.
“This looks incredible, Soph,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Thanks,” I say softly, letting my head fall against his chest for just a moment. “It feels… done. Like there’s nothing else to fix.”
He laughs quietly. “You’ve been saying that since we finished the guest room, and then two days later you were halfway through sanding the banisters.”
I roll my eyes but grin anyway. “I can’t help it. I like when things feel new.”
Julian kisses the top of my head. “Well, if you need a new project, I’m always open to suggestions. I quite liked the leather straps you added to the bedroom.”
I smother a laugh against my glass. “That wasn’t exactly renovation, Julian.”
He smirks and pulls me in closer, lowering his voice. “It doesn’t matter. It’s our house, pet. Our rules.”
The words are comforting, but they feel like silk draped over something thornier. I know he means them, but it’s hard to untangle years of my mother’s voice reminding me that ‘ a proper woman doesn’t flaunt her marriage, she manages it. ’
That’s something Julian says often, that this is our space, our kingdom, free from the prying eyes of family and obligation. I believe him.
Most days.
More people file in, and I take Julian’s hand, squeezing it once. “You look very dapper tonight,” I say, taking in his neatly slicked-back hair paired with a navy suit and a champagne-colored tie—the exact same color as my dress.
“And you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Look stunning. As fucking always.”
I giggle, tucking my straightened hair behind my ear. “Thank you.”
Guests greet us—mostly a handshake, or a kiss on each cheek. I have déjà vu from the parties we used to host in Brookshire, and my mouth goes dry when I realize this is the same thing, only in a different location.
I swirl the champagne in my glass, leaning into Julian with a playful glint in my eye. “God, this is starting to feel like one of my mother’s parties. Quick—let’s sneak into the pantry and eat cake with our hands like heathens. Completely unhinged.”
Julian chokes on his drink, coughing through a laugh as he tugs me closer. “You mean scandalize the entire guest list with crumbs on your dress and frosting on my tie?”
I shrug, biting back a grin. “Adds character to the evening. Think anyone would notice?”
His eyes darken with that familiar spark—the one that always means he’s tempted by my nonsense. “Oh, they’d notice. But I’d bet good money no one would dare say a word.”
“Then it’s settled. Meet me by the lemon tart in five minutes?”
Julian laughs, low and indulgent, like I’ve just suggested something far more indecent. “Deal. But if you get powdered sugar on my suit, you’re cleaning it off later with your tongue. Speaking of later…” One of his hands comes around my backside, squeezing my arse.
Clearing my throat, nervous butterflies flit through me when I think of the surprise Julian has planned for me tonight. “Is everything all set for… later?”
Julian nods discreetly, taking my hand. “It is.”
“And you want it to happen upstairs?”
“I do.”
“Okay.” My hand curls around his. “You’re sure?”
Julian squeezes my hand back, leaning down so that his lips brush my temple. “What better way to celebrate our new home than to watch another man fuck my wife?” he whispers.
I bite my lower lip to keep from smiling. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Oh, I’m very happy, pet.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? To invite others… in the lifestyle…”
“I’ve asked them to wear masks, so we know who is in and who isn’t. Should be a fun night of chaos and debauchery if we’re lucky.”
“And the contract is signed?” I ask, feeling slightly nervous to play with so many people around.
“Yes. He’s been vetted, health checked, and he knows exactly what the terms are.”
I nod. “Okay, babe.”
A second later, I see Malakai walk through the door, and my breathing hitches slightly. For a moment, the party fades into the background. The chatter, the soft clink of champagne glasses, even the weight of Julian’s hand on my lower back—all of it dims under the sudden awareness of him. His presence fills the room effortlessly, his dark hair tousled just enough to look like he hasn’t been thinking about tonight at all, and yet, somehow, he fits here perfectly.
I don’t know why I expected seeing him tonight to feel normal.
It’s not.
I glance at Julian. He hasn’t noticed yet. But I can feel it, the sharp edge of excitement curling low in my stomach.
And the guilt that follows immediately after.
What the hell is that about?
I press closer to Julian’s side, grounding myself in the solid warmth of his body. His fingers trace absent circles along my waist.
This is fine, I tell myself. This is fine.
But as I catch Malakai’s eyes across the room—his gaze lingering just a little too long before sliding away—I wonder if I believe that.
Julian’s lips brush against the shell of my ear. “You’ve been staring at him for a full minute, pet. Should I be concerned?”
I snort softly, even as my skin heats. “Absolutely not. I’m just marveling at how good he is at pretending he’s not looking at us.”
Julian chuckles, tipping his glass toward Kai in a subtle, knowing toast. “Well, let him look. He knows exactly who you’re going home with tonight.”
And I do.
Malakai’s eyes shift toward mine once more, and something dark and dangerous—and hopeful—begins to grow inside of me.
An hour later, Julian squeezes my hand three times.
It’s his cue to let me know the man he chose for me is waiting upstairs. Julian will take the back stairway up and sneak into the guest bedroom to watch us. Like always, I’ve been given a picture of the guy and a copy of his records, but I never know what they’re like until we start the scene. It doesn’t really matter to me, because the best part of it all is watching Julian lose his mind. Watching how his eyes get this sexy, dark color as he watches me. Putting on a show for him.
Plus, there’s something really empowering about doing something so frowned upon in society. Others might call it cheating, but for us, it has only solidified our marriage and made us stronger.
Also, I can’t lie and say it doesn’t turn me on that Julian always has a say in who gets to touch me—in who gets to play with me. It makes me feel safe and protected. And while we’ve never seriously dabbled in the BDSM lifestyle, I’ve discovered that doing this is my way of submitting to him in the bedroom.
Which is really fucking hot.
Straightening my dress, I walk down the hallway upstairs and place my hand on the handle of the guest bedroom, but before I can open it, a man comes out of the shadows.
It’s the guy Julian chose for tonight, and he’s wearing a masquerade mask that covers his eyes and hugs his cheekbones.
“Sophie?”
I nod. “Hi.”
He takes another step forward, and I know Julian is somewhere nearby, or will be very shortly. Every detail will have been worked out by him, and I trust that I’m in good hands.
The mystery man moves forward, closer to me, and presses me against the wall. With one arm above my head, he pins me in place, taking his other hand and placing it on my hip gently. I hear shuffling in the hallway, and I don’t want to break the scene, so I do the only thing that makes sense. I kiss him.
His lips are soft, and his hand grips my hip tightly as his tongue invades my mouth. He tastes like mint, and though he’s a few inches shorter than Julian, I imagine it’s my husband, just like I always do. As I press my back against the cool wall, the man Julian chose for tonight trails slow kisses along my neck. My heart hammers in my chest, not from nerves, but from the delicious thrill of being seen. The weight of someone’s gaze prickles over my skin, drawing heat to my face.
Julian.
I feel him watching. I always do.
I arch into the man’s touch, letting my eyes drift open, expecting to catch the familiar silhouette of my husband slipping into the shadows. But when I glance down the hall, my breath stalls.
It’s not Julian.
Kai stands there, half shrouded in the dim light, his stormy eyes locked onto me with something I can’t place. His expression isn’t scandalized or amused—it’s raw. Unreadable.
Heat floods my cheeks, shame curdling in my stomach, and I pull back sharply from the man’s lips.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, stepping away.
For one heartbeat, Kai doesn’t move. His gaze lingers, tracing every inch of me, like he’s trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. I can’t breathe.
I thought I wanted to be watched.
But not by him.
Never by him.
I force a polite smile for the man beside me, murmuring an apology, but Kai’s stare burns hotter than anything else. When the stranger slips away down the hall, I wipe at my lips, trying to erase the sensation of someone else’s mouth.
My heart stumbles in my chest. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but no words come. Kai steps closer, slow and deliberate, his hands tucked into the pockets of his suit like he’s barely holding himself back.
He looks bloody furious.
“Sophie,” he says quietly, but there’s nothing soft in his voice.
And just like that, the air between us turns razor-sharp.
“This isn’t what you think?—”
“Of all the people I know, you’re the last one I expected to be a cheater,” Kai says, his gray eyes steely and his jaw hard underneath the dark scruff. My whole body rocks back from his words, but before I can respond, he takes a step closer. “But I suppose we all have our secrets, don’t we?”
My lips part in surprise as he steps into my space. “I’m not cheating?—”
“Oh? Maybe you call it something different in London then,” he growls, eyes boring into mine. “Julian deserves better,” he adds.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my palm is making contact with his face, and color blooms on his cheek where I slapped him. He barely moves, instead touching his cheek and looking at me with hooded eyes.
“Fuck you, Kai. You know nothing about our marriage.”
Gathering my dress with shaking hands, I stalk away from him and jog down the stairs. People say hello, but I’m too busy replaying Kai’s words in my head to notice or care. Just as I reach the drawer in the larder that houses my cigarettes, Julian’s hand comes around my wrist.
“Hey,” he says gently. “What happened? I went upstairs but no one was there.”
I lift my eyes to look at my husband—to explain what Kai walked in on—but one of the servers walks up to Julian and whispers into his ear. His face freezes for a second, brow furrowed, and then he groans out a low sound of realization.
“Fuck, I forgot. I have to give the speech because dinner is almost ready. You’re okay, right?” he asks, one hand cupping my cheek. His expression is apologetic, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’m fine, I promise.”
He got so wrapped up in the scene we had planned that he forgot about the speech. I’m used to watching the wobble in his expression as he recalibrates, that same familiar glimmer of frustration crossing his face. It’s not at me, it’s at himself. He hates when this happens—when he forgets something while in the heat of the moment.
Taking my hand, he gives it a quick squeeze, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that feels almost apologetic. Then he pulls us toward the grand staircase at the center of the room.
When we’re a few steps above the crowd, he clinks his champagne flute with a small spoon.
The crowd goes quiet.
My husband is nothing if not effective, and he’s always been able to command a room better than anyone I know.
“Thank you all most sincerely for joining us this evening to celebrate our new home. Sophie and I are absolutely delighted to have you all here with us.”
I shift slightly closer to him, trying to lose myself in the warmth of his words, but the weight of another gaze lingers somewhere past the crowd.
I already know who it is before I look.
Across the room, Kai’s eyes catch mine, and my breath stills in my throat.
“The move back to California has not been without its challenges. It is something we have long aspired to, and now we are beyond pleased to finally be here. There are many individuals to whom we owe a debt of gratitude for ensuring the transition has been as smooth as it has…”
Kai’s gaze is heavy—sharp, lingering just a second too long. I can’t tell if the tight expression is disappointment, judgment, or something worse. Something more dangerous.
My stomach clenches.
A flush rises to my cheeks, and for a moment, I feel exposed, as if Kai’s gaze has peeled back something carefully guarded.
What’s worse is the way part of me bristles at it.
I drag my eyes away, swallowing the knot tightening in my throat.
Julian’s voice hums next to me, light and full of warmth as he talks about our home, our future.
I chance another glance toward Kai. His eyes haven’t moved. That same trace of something unreadable dances behind his gaze, and it’s enough to make me look away again, biting the inside of my cheek.
Focus, Sophie.
I straighten my spine, grounding myself in his presence, letting his easy confidence wash over me. Whatever that was—whatever unspoken thing just passed between me and Kai—it doesn’t belong here.
Julian’s voice lifts, clear and steady.
“And of course,” Julian continues, “I would be remiss if I did not extend my heartfelt thanks to my oldest and dearest friend, Malakai Ravage. Kai, would you care to join us?”
Oldest and dearest friend…
It’s not like they’re enemies, but there’s still tension between them. I know Julian is just calling him that for show.
The crowd parts as Kai begins to move toward the stairs, but I don’t miss the faint quirk of his lips—like he knows exactly what’s going through my head. I quickly flick my gaze over the rest of his family—his four brothers and their partners.
They make a beautiful family.
My chest tightens, and suddenly I feel far too warm under the gaze of the entire room.
Fuck.
A few seconds later, Kai joins us on the stairs, and I feel my whole body stiffen in his presence, especially when his eyes find mine and he gives me an arrogant, knowing look.
Fuck him.
“A long time ago,” Julian continues, a lightness in his voice, “I was just a boy in search of a friend. I suspect many of you are familiar with the Ravage family name. Imagine my astonishment when Malakai Ravage himself decided that we should be friends. We were in sixth grade, and my family had just moved from London.”
Julian looks at Kai. Their relationship is still a bit icy in places, but ever since Kai came over to help me while I was in pain, he’s been friendlier to his old friend.
“Malakai, in his infinite wisdom, decided to assist with some of the more laborious tasks—patching walls, painting, carpentry… We would not be standing here tonight without the invaluable help of Malakai Ravage,” Julian finishes, lifting his champagne flute. “To Malakai.”
“To Malakai,” the crowd echoes.
“Thank you all once again for joining us. Do enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Everyone begins speaking again, and I lean over to Julian. “I need to speak to you. I’ll be in our bedroom.”
I don’t give him a chance to ask why—I don’t want to be around Malakai for a second longer than I have to. Not until I can speak to Julian.
Ascending the stairs, I hear someone following me, and a quick glance over my shoulder tells me it’s Kai. Not Julian—who is currently laughing with a man I don’t recognize. He gives me a quick apologetic look, and mouths, One second.
I keep going, and at the top of the stairs, I turn to face Kai. “Why are you following me?” I don’t bother trying to hide the ice in my words. We’re far enough away from everyone that we have some privacy up here, and any second now, Julian will come rescue me and explain everything. “I’m just a cheater, right? Leave me alone,” I add, my voice breaking.
I turn and continue down the hall toward the master bedroom.
Before I know it, tears are falling down my cheeks. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because I actually enjoy spending time with Kai. I look up to and admire him, and now he thinks I’m worse than the scum on the bottom of his shoe.
It stings—for reasons I’m not sure I’m ready to admit.
Before I reach the master bedroom, I feel Kai’s hand close around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I spin around, but his face is unreadable, his usual calm replaced with something sharp and simmering beneath his clenched jaw.
“You don’t get to just walk away,” he says, voice low but intense. “You don’t get to act like I’m the one who’s out of line.”
His words cut deep, but I keep my head high, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. “It isn’t what you think. But considering how rude you’ve been about it, I don’t owe you an explanation. Now, like I asked before, please leave me alone.”
His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go, searching my face as though he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “Fine. Maybe you don’t owe me anything, but it’d be nice to know the truth before you make me out to be some kind of fool. Does Julian know?”
The truth.
I bite back the urge to tell him, to explain that I’m not some thrill-seeker playing games behind Julian’s back, that I wouldn’t be this careless with people I care about.
People I care about.
The realization that Kai is one of them only makes this hurt more, the sting of his mistrust swelling in my chest.
If he really knew me, he’d know that I’d never cheat on Julian.
That , above all else, hurts the most.
I wipe away the remnants of my tears. “Whatever you think you saw… it’s not what it looked like.”
His laugh is hollow, almost disbelieving. “Not what it looked like? You were kissing another man, Sophie. That’s pretty clear. So, explain to me what I’m supposed to think. Because from my viewpoint, it looks like you’re betraying Julian—and that…” He runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Sophie, but he’s my friend. And I have to tell him.”
My shoulders slump. I want to defend myself, want to shout that Julian knows everything, that he’s always known, that there’s nothing underhanded going on here. But I don’t want to betray the quiet boundaries Julian and I set for ourselves, the unspoken understanding between us that we wouldn’t parade our arrangements around. The things we do in our marriage are private, sacred even, and I know Julian trusts me to keep it that way.
Kai’s silence is heavy. He doesn’t look angry anymore—just hurt, the flash of disappointment evident in the downturn of his mouth, the tight line of his shoulders. The sting in my chest grows, knowing that the last thing I wanted was to disappoint him.
Finally, I find my voice. “Just trust me, Kai. It’s not what it seems.”
His nostrils flare, and then his face flashes with that unknown emotion from before, and I realize with a start that Malakai Ravage is jealous.
“What do you mean by that?” He steps back, his brows drawn in a hard line, as if he’s trying to keep himself from unraveling. “Is this some sort of sick game the two of you are playing?” His eyes go wide. “Are you messing with me ?”
“No!” The word escapes, louder than I intended, and I immediately regret it. I take a calming breath. “It’s not like that, Kai. It’s just… complicated.”
Kai’s jaw tightens. “So explain it to me, Sophie. Because right now, all I see is someone who thinks she can have it all without caring about who she hurts along the way.”
His words leave me reeling. I open my mouth, then close it, wondering how I can make him understand without actually telling him about the situation. I can’t betray the trust Julian and I built—or at least, it feels like Julian should be here too so we can tell him together. I could tell him that Julian knew all along—that nothing ever happens without honesty between us. But my words are stuck in my throat.
It feels like trying to bridge an impossible distance.
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “You know what? Forget it.” His gaze softens, but there’s still an edge to it, a look of someone who feels like a fool for ever trusting me in the first place. “I just thought you were… different. The work on the house is done, and I don’t want any part of whatever the fuck is going on with you and Julian?—”
“And what, exactly, do you think is going on?”
Julian’s voice cuts through the quiet hallway, and both Kai and I turn to find him standing a few feet away.