Chapter 25 Viviana
VIVIANA
What is wrong with me? Skimming the verge of giving in when I should be focused on bricking up a wall that’s unscalable for him.
A lost cause, that’s what I am.
The asshole knows me too well. In my defense, I’ve accepted going with him because I miss Altea.
That’s it. Not because of him. No, it has nothing to do with him.
I will repeat that mantra until I believe it.
Till the end of time, if necessary, to fortify myself against his attempts at winning me back.
In the car, I look out the window and put on some music to tune him out, doing my best to ignore him. But to silence his presence is impossible. I sigh, the sound ringing with dejection.
I can’t believe I asked him to wake up next to me, but I don’t rest well without him. He has trouble sleeping, and I am just a good person. That’s it. The pile of excuses will end up burying me, seizing my last breath.
We leave New York behind, the raucous sounds of the city melting into a peripheral one. The road stretches out in front of me with endless possibilities, and the ocean follows us on our journey like a silent companion.
This drive was a mistake. One hour confined with him feels like half an eternity.
My thoughts always circle back to him. My body always seeks his closeness. Instinctively, I am drawn to him. He doesn’t have to touch me to play with my senses.
I am stupid. A stupid woman in love with the one she shouldn’t be.
No one has hurt me more than he has, yet I still crave him like an addict, undeterred that it will demand my soul, my very life in return.
“Excited for tomorrow?” he asks, tapping a finger on the wheel.
I glare at him, then return to looking out the window.
“You’re going to be amazing. Those kids will adore you.”
His unwavering support warms my chest. I wish I had his confidence. Nerves swarm in my belly, knotting me up, and I palm my stomach to ease the pressure, remaining silent but not for long. The silence invites thoughts of him.
“What are you after, Tristan?”
His fingers tighten around the wheel. “You know damn well.”
“Stop wasting your time.”
“So stubborn.”
“What you call stubborn, I call self-preservation,” I huff. “You fooled me once. I won’t make the mistake of trusting you a second time.”
He swerves the car, parking it on the side of the road, and gets in my face.
“Let’s get one thing straight. You’re my wife. We’re married. For life. You want us to be miserable? Fine. But I will try until my last breath to win you back. You should trust me because I would fucking die for you.”
My heartbeat picks up at his nearness. “I’m not asking you to do that,” I say haughtily.
I know I am not helping either of us with my rigid attitude. I should attempt to salvage this marriage for some tranquility, but my hurt demands retribution.
He rakes a hand through his hair. “What do you want from me, Viviana?” he asks, sounding as pained as pensive.
I stare him deep in the eyes. “The truth. Not all at once, but in increments. And I want a baby. Just one. Not right now, but in the future. You either give me those or I will sabotage every attempt of yours at winning me back.”
His jaw sharpens to the point that a muscle ticks.
You can’t stop loving someone on command. I am not even trying to punish him for what he did. I saw tidbits of him, of that side he kept under lock for me. I just wish he had trusted me enough with his plan.
The realization lights up out of nowhere. I don’t think he trusted me or my love. That’s the only plausible explanation. He needed to seduce me first, trap me in his sinful web to have me for good.
He really thinks he’s a monster, and I would have woken from the spell and rejected him. Like this, he could have me with no risks.
Silly man.
His silence is the loudest answer—the sentence of lifetime misery.
I guess we’ll continue living like this.
He clears his throat. “If you think of our marriage as a business deal, it leaves room for negotiation.”
Oh, no. It’s all or nothing with me, needing to know him better than anyone else. Not only to soothe the wound he carved in the middle of my chest, but to understand his reasoning. What made him this cold-blooded, rationally ruthless and emotionally distant man?
I will spend my life with him. I don’t want just the shiny parts, but the broken ones. Dahlia said something I only glimpsed, and I need to uncover it.
“Our marriage is not a business transaction, Tristan.”
“Really? My fucking bad. It sounded like you think I have everything to lose if I don’t accept your terms.”
A headache throbs behind my temples facing his rigidity. What am I even doing? He doesn’t see that I am trying to salvage us. No, he perceives my attempt as a loss. Me knowing him. Him giving me a child.
He wants only surface level. Fine. So be it. What do I care? I won’t force him.
“You’re right. Keep your secrets. Let the demons consume you,” I grumble, trying to infuse as much indifference as I can. “I knew you’d never accept it. That’s why I proposed it.”
For the rest of the drive, the silence persists, thick as my sorrow, suffocating as his inflexibility.
The moment he parks, I stumble out of the car, needing a few moments to gather myself.
I don’t wait for him to follow me. I pass his men nodding my way, content that my smile doesn’t falter to betray how I truly feel on the inside—desolate.
My troubles ease when I see Altea and rush to her, patting her mane. “I’ve missed you. Don’t be mad at me. I promise I’ll come visit you weekly.”
Putting the saddle and bridle on, she stands next to me, and I heave myself up, straddling her.
Riding past, I glare at him as he talks to Finn, the one in charge of this place.
I know what this place hides but prefer to focus on Altea.
I make my way to the beach. The breeze kisses my face, the feeling of freedom all-encompassing.
The grump watches me from up the hill, saddled on his black stallion. “What the fuck did I tell you about riding alone?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Altea wouldn’t hurt me.”
“She’s still an animal. And horses get easily spooked.” He arches a sharp brow. “If you get hurt…”
The threat dangles between us like an explosive ready to detonate, causing my insides to vibrate with sheer fury.
“I can’t believe I ended up with an unfeeling, cold killer.”
“Well, fucking believe it,” he snaps. “Let’s return.”
“You ruined my ride anyway,” I shout back.
I flip my hair back, kick Altea’s side and she takes off, making me believe I fly.
Reaching the stables, I’m breathless but beaming.
My good mood plummets when he stops next to me.
He leans against the stable wall. “You’re playing with fire.”
Staring him down, I wish for lasers to shoot out of my eyes and straight into his frozen chest. “You burned me once. I survived.”
“Brat.”
“Bastard. Should we move to C now?”
He grumbles under his breath, and I pocket my victory.
After I feed and brush her, I place a soft kiss on her muzzle. “See you next weekend. I’ll miss you.”
Suddenly emotional, I go change.
I can ask Evie to come with me next time, and we can spend a girls’ weekend at the beach house. I am barely married, and I already need a break from him.
He’s too much.
I am too weak.
In one of our heated moments, I’ll push him, and he’ll push back only to collide—two bodies clashing, the gravitational pull of our desire forcing us together.
I can pretend all I want, but withstanding his advances long-term is impossible.
In the car, I hum along, thinking about tomorrow. The first day is super important, plus the kids are used to their regular preschool teachers. I need to make a good impression, so they can feel safe with me.
The hours away will also help in distancing myself from him. He is a freaking workaholic, so I shouldn’t worry.
“When are you usually home from work?” I ask just to be sure.
“Late.”
“Perfect,” I say, swallowing. The knowledge doesn’t sit well with me.
My contradictory feelings tear me apart; I can almost hear the fabric of my being ripping.
“There will be two guards constantly nearby.”
I open and close my mouth when he adds, “Security is something we will never negotiate. I need to know you’re safe. They will be stealthy. You won’t even know they’re there.”
“Married to you. A dream come true,” I say, infusing as much sarcasm as I can.
He shrugs, not deterred by my jab in the slightest. “I told you I am nothing like a hero. Turn me into your villain, but all I care about is your safety.”
“Any other things involving the position of being Mrs. Kinkaid?” I say in a tone reeking of pretend sweetness.
I catch a muscle tic in his jaw at the job dig. Petty, sure, but it’s the only thing I have going.
“There will be galas. Public appearances. Choosing nonprofit organizations to support. New York is a tight circle. They’ll want to know you. Trust no one. The bigger their grins, the more likely the desire to betray you to get what you have.”
No wonder he is always three steps ahead. It’s the same in the underworld. I guess he had to become the best at the power game.
I dip my chin, fidgeting with my fingers in my lap.
“Pretend, Viviana. No one does it better. You’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand. Beat them at their own fucking game.”
I must, refusing to be simply the woman by his side. I want to establish my own power base.
At home, a smiling woman greets us. “Mr. and Mrs. Kinkaid, welcome home. Dinner will be served shortly.”
I turn to him, making a hand gesture in the air.
He scratches his neck. “That is our housekeeper, Daniela.”
Going with her to the kitchen, she says, “I hope everything is to your liking.”
“Thank you for doing this for us. I appreciate it.”
She nods, her smile turning brighter, and after we make the weekly plan, I tell her, “I have this from here. Enjoy some family time.”
Tristan is not a tyrant per se, but he lacks empathy.
I set the table when he comes inside, looking around. “Where is Daniela?”