20. Vian #2
Trust ended the moment my future father-in-law betrayed me.
Leaving anything to chance goes against everything I’ve learned. My life’s tough teachings would be pointless if I let chance dictate my course.
I can’t fix the past, but I’ll be damned if I don’t shape our future. That’s why it’s imperative she falls in love with her new life and forgets her old one. At whatever cost.
Picking up my phone, I send Conrad a text.
Make sure she follows the protocol like the others. If not, end her.
Sure, Boss?
Don’t question me!
I am so fucking done with their supposedly good-natured advice. Neither Noemi nor Conrad was there to witness her state of mind. I was. Zara might be tough, but we all have our breaking point, and I’ve seen hers once. I won’t allow it to happen again.
Unable to sleep, I search for potential honeymoon locations and decide on a private island in the Maldives.
If it were up to me, we would spend the rest of our lives there, unbothered by reality, but instead, I book the exclusive location for two weeks. Just us, far away from our regular lives, unburdened by the fear that something could snatch her from me.
In bed, I stare at the ceiling, the past and present meshing into one image. I miss her body pressed into the curve of mine. Her smile. Her teasing. Everything.
Instinct leads me, and I press video call, wishing she never doubts my feelings for her. Even if the entire world paints me as the monster, I want her to remember that my love—as obsessive, mad, and reckless as it is—is the catalyst driving me.
When the call connects, I see her in bed, a towel wrapped around her head.
No makeup. No mask, just pure natural beauty that takes my breath away.
“The bed feels empty without you. Come back,” I groan low, hoping to convince her to return and never leave again.
“It’s your turn,” she reminds me in a sweet voice ringing of yearning.
“I could come right now.”
She bites her lip, eyes softening. “I must focus. I can’t focus with you here.”
I arch a brow, my voice dropping to a flirtatious tone. “Do I distract you?”
“Yes, and we both know you’ll get your way if you want to.”
“You love when I get my way,” I say hoarsely, my voice betraying my desire.
Heat crawls up her neck, painting a blush on her cheeks, and fuck if I don’t get hard. Good. I want her to be as desperate for me as I am for her, though I doubt that’s possible.
“I booked our honeymoon,” I say, changing the topic to preserve the sham of control.
She sighs at me, features pulled taut into a sad expression. “You’re always rushing through things, Vian. Savor it, baby.”
I am savoring every moment, all right; I am just terrified I won’t be able to for long.
The endearment slides down my chest like liquid warmth, melting the ice block and reviving my heart. “Call me that again,” I demand, voice tinged with longing.
“Baby?”
“Mm-hmm. Fuck, that sounds good.” I forgot how good.
“And when are we supposed to go on this honeymoon?”
“Right after your business meeting.”
Her brows scrunch together in a cute frown. “I would miss my therapist appointment.”
I wave a nonchalant hand through the air while every muscle in my body clamps tight enough to snap. “Reschedule it. I’ll make it up to you.”
She looks ahead, considering it and that right there tells me she is torn.
“You and I on a secluded island…” I continue planting the idea of pleasure in her head.
She taps her chin, a flirtatious smile curling the corner of her mouth. “Sounds kinky.”
I chuckle like the completely smitten man I am. “You have a dirty mind.”
“And you have compelling arguments.”
“Is that a yes?” I hold my breath, only releasing it when she offers me a soft smile.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me. Fuck, mi sol, everything I do is for you.”
Just forgive me when the time comes.
Just love me when you discover how flawed I truly am.
An imperfect man who loves you as if you were his missing piece.
I drag a hand down my face, blowing out a breath choked full of frustration. “It’s going to be three long days.”
“You’ll have me all to yourself for a while.”
The thought alone sends a rush of lust zapping through me. I will take full advantage of that. I will love her so hard that even if she doesn’t want to believe me, she has to.
“Good night, wife.”
“Good night, husband. Dream of me,” she murmurs, emotions spilling between words, making my truth overflow.
“I only ever dream about you.”
I don’t even care if I sound corny. My feelings for her have always been impossible to restrain. It’s beyond me to downplay them or keep from showing her. My love for her has been notorious from the very start. That’s why the disaster ensued—because my enemies were aware of my sole weakness.
Ignoring the late hour, I call my uncle, and his gruff voice greets me. “Good God, Vian. I need my sleep.”
“You’ll sleep for eternity soon,” I scoff, the reminder tasting bitter on my tongue.
“Sensitive as always, son,” he grumbles.
“You’re leaving me, so at least make sure everything is going smoothly in my absence. I will be away for my honeymoon.”
“Not out of choice, but you would have put me in an early grave.”
“Who did you say I take after?” He’s surely about to protest when I add, “I gave you my damn word. Let me have this.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Enjoy it.”
“I will.”
I hang up, turning and tossing in bed, unable to find my place because mine is next to her.