9. Vian
VIAN
She came back. I can’t stop looking at her, gorging on her beauty after days of darkness claiming my damn soul. This week has been fucking brutal, swinging from one extreme to another like a pendulum on crack.
Hope blooms in my arid chest, the knowledge that our separation was just as brutal for her reviving my entire being.
On the drive home, she leans into me and says meekly, “I acted like a jerk.”
I chuckle. “Is that an apology, wife?”
She lifts her chin and arches an intent brow. “Where is yours? You acted like one too.”
“You drive me wild, you know that?” I touch her face and brush my nose against hers. “Your apology needs some work.”
“You first.”
“I’m not sorry for wanting you.”
She giggles, slapping my chest and resting her palm there. “Be patient with me, okay? I know I am too much…”
“You’re just the right amount of perfect.”
A playful tilt teases her lips. “Are you trying to seduce me, husband?”
“Is it working?” I ask, inhaling her summer-garden scent into my frozen lungs.
Fuck, I don’t know if this is reality or a dream, but I couldn’t care less. If losing my mind means I can have her, so be it. I’d forsake my life and relinquish my sanity just to feel her.
“You make me feel all over the place, Vian. I don’t know how to deal with that.” A line digs between her brows, and her fingers curl in my shirt.
She doesn’t have to worry. I am not going anywhere.
“The feeling is mutual.” I press my lips to the corner of her mouth, and she lets out this little sound—half moan, half surrender—that does inexplicable things to me.
She sighs contentedly, biting her lower lip. “What are we going to do?”
“Figure it out. Together.”
A soft smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, warming my insides. “I like that.”
I cup her face, staring into her eyes. “Stay the night.”
“Where is the question?”
“It wasn’t intended as one.”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“Stop doing that. It makes my palms itch,” I groan low.
Her mouth opens in fake outrage. “Scandalous.”
“Tempting.” I smirk.
“I think my breathing tempts you.”
True. The grin remains plastered on my face for the entire ride home.
The car comes to a stop in the underground garage, the driver climbing out discreetly and offering much-coveted privacy.
“I’m sorry for ruining such a special night.”
“You made it bearable, for the first time.”
“What you do is great.”
Fisting my hands at my sides, I shut my eyes for a moment, unwavering determination spreading through me. “If I could eradicate this damn sickness, I would.”
She palms my curled hand, and it opens immediately. “What was your mother like?” she asks, looking at me with compassion in her eyes.
“She was incredible. An inspiration. The best mother and wife. She was passionate about helping the less fortunate.”
“She sounds like a great person.”
I let out a noncommittal sound. She loved Zara. Those two were always brainstorming ideas. She wanted nothing to do with the arms-dealing business, yet she thrived because everything she touched, she turned into something greater.
She was there when my mom took her last breath, holding my hand and crying softly as my mother said, “Take care of each other. Never forget your way back. Let love guide you.”
The past rolls over me, flattening my insides into a battered mess.
She brushes her fingers along my face before palming my cheek, and I lean into her soothing touch. “I have amnesia.”
My eyes widen, not expecting this moment of sincerity. My opening up leads to her doing the same. I keep quiet, giving her a few moments to gather her thoughts.
She smiles, a broken one. “It’s unsettling… your words, your actions, suggest familiarity, as if you know me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” She offers me an apologetic glance. “It’s confusing.”
“What happened?” I ask, trying to distract her from spiraling.
I doubt there will ever be a suitable moment to tell her about our shared past. The chance to build something unbreakable on the ashes this time is too good not to seize.
“From what I know, I got into an accident, suffered a brain injury, and lost a part of my life.”
“You can choose to look ahead or back, but you can’t do both.”
She fidgets with the ring. “It’s easy when you remember the past.”
“True. Why did you trust me with this?”
She folds her hands in her lap, looking out the window as if she can’t face me. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything when it comes to you, Vian.”
She appears so lost right now, and it breaks my fucking heart.
“I will take care of you. I promise.” I say it like a vow.
“I can do that on my own.”
“It wasn’t up for debate.” It’s my duty. My role. The reason I was put on this damn earth.
“You’re quite bossy.”
“I’m protective of what is mine.”
“So, you think I’m yours?” She sasses me, her eyes lighting up with a dare.
I smirk, my blood heating in my veins with the need to show her. “I know you’re mine.”
The atmosphere heats, turning combustible with every glance and heavy breath.
I lean into her, my voice a mere rasp betraying me. “I will kiss you now, wife.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, husband.”
I chuckle, feeling elated.
Tipping my face down, I cup the back of her neck and press our mouths together. She opens for me, feeding me sheer bliss. Tongues moving in a slow yet passionate dance, I savor the connection that transcends the physical.
Every part of me burns for her.
My heart beats for her.
My life belongs to her.
Driven by a blind need to savor her, we kiss until we are both breathless. I could sooner forgo breathing than stop kissing her.
I doubt even a lifetime could make up for the time we lost or fill the endless well of longing inside me. I crave her with everything I am.
Something in her calls to everything in me, making me respond as if our souls have always been one. I only feel complete when I am with her. She is my home, my other half, my counterpart in every way.
I kiss her face, her jaw, the soft line of her throat, lingering where her pulse beats for me.
“Mm-hmm,” she says, enjoying it as much as I do.
Lifting her hand to my mouth, I press a tender kiss to her palm, holding her gaze so she can see how deep my feelings run—the truth buried there under layers of agony.
“Vian…”
“Zara…”
We stumble out of the SUV, dazed, and head into the elevator while my men avoid my gaze.
We’ll talk later about them not informing me, but the smug expression on my wife’s face tells me I’ve found the culprit.
“Are you enjoying getting my men into trouble?”
“They won’t be in any trouble.” She spears me with an intent look that only makes resisting her harder.
“Wife,” I groan.
“Husband,” she breathes out, tapping my nose. “Don’t forget who you married.”
The sweet gesture puts a smile on my face. “How could I?”
“Too late for second guesses,” she says, though it sounds more like a question.
I will eradicate her doubts one after another. “We’re it for life, mi sol.”
“Then learn to share the power. I won’t be in your shadow.”
That would be impossible. She shines too brightly for anyone’s shadow.
As the elevator takes us upstairs, I gather her in my arms, eliciting a squeal from her. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying my wife inside.”
“I think carrying me over the threshold was supposed to happen after our wedding.”
I shrug, brushing my nose against hers. “We did everything backward anyway.”
The elevator doors slide shut behind us, and I carry her inside, every step charged with everything I am trying to hold back.
She gives me one of those wholesome smiles that makes me want to do everything right, so she never stops looking at me as if I am something wondrous.
In the bedroom, I set her down, and she walks toward the window, while my gaze follows her. Every instinct in me demands more, but I force myself to stay still. Keep it together.
She stares, transfixed, as if the answers she seeks are hidden somewhere beyond the glass.
I go into the bathroom and prepare a bath, hoping it will relax her.
When I return, she is still absorbed in the view, and I know the moment has shifted. I can be patient. I would wait forever for her. She has to come to me freely, not because desire overpowers her. I need her to feel safe, so I stand behind her and offer silent support.
“It’s strange, don’t you think? We keep doing the same things and expecting different results.”
I wrap my arm around her waist, and she leans back, her head resting against my chest. “I like Chicago. It’s soothing. I wonder why. Have I been here before? Was he from here?”
I groan low in my throat.
“Your jealousy is cute, Vian, but he’s dead, lost like—”
“You’re not lost, and even if you were, I would find you.”
She turns in my arms, her eyes shining with a plea that undoes me. “Promise me.”
I tip her head back so she can see how earnest I am. My voice turns thick with determination. “I promise. Even if you don’t want me. Even if you hate me. Even if you abandon me, I could never leave you.”
She lifts onto her toes, placing a kiss on my lips. “My unhinged man.”
I chuckle. “I prepared a bath.”
“Will you join me?”
I cock my head and caress her cheek, wishing I could memorize her just like this, safe in my arms. “Will you regret it once it’s over?”
“Let me pretend, please…”
Whatever she needs, even if it ends up destroying me.
Inside the bathroom, I unzip her dress, my palms gliding down her soft curves.
Potent emotions have me in a chokehold. She’s exquisite, a sculpture of beauty coming alive under my touch.
The vision of her takes my breath away, and my fingers shake as I get reacquainted with every perfect inch of her body––soft like pure silk gliding under my calloused fingers.
She watches her reflection in the mirror, arousal glistening in her eyes. It takes everything in me to slam the brakes on lust when everything in me yearns to fuck her. It demands inhuman willpower to pace myself when I want to go all in.