Chapter Fifteen
SERENITY VEYLOR-KORVEN
Two days before the wedding anniversary
Be ready... And wear the dress I just got delivered for you.
“For fuck’s sake, who the hell does he think he is?
” I grumbled, reading over the handwritten note Konflict sent, informing me I was to get ready for the Big Six’s evening.
I tossed the note across the room and didn’t care where it landed.
My whole body buzzed with fury as my eyes landed on the dress he wanted me to wear.
I had to admit, the damn thing was breathtaking.
When Valery brought it up earlier, my eyes lit up before she told me it came from my idiot of a husband.
It was a showstopper, a red evening gown with a sculpted bodice that would hug every inch of my curves, covered in red sequins that would catch the light and set my skin on fire with every step.
The neckline plunged low, and the back was open all the way down to the base of my spine.
Just looking at it, I could already see how it would cling to my body and make my skin glow.
I would look devastating in it. But there was no way in hell I would ever put it on just because he asked.
I hated that man so much I couldn’t even stand to hear him breathe.
The days had rushed by at the speed of light, dragging me violently closer to the moment when Konflict would finally take my life.
Every night I slept, I woke up convinced I was ready, that there could be no other ending, not when I had nothing left to fight for, no reason not to let go.
My family was gone—at least, the family that was supposed to mean something—though their presence had never filled the emptiness inside me. I was truly alone.
The only person who ever made me want to fight, to live, to become something more, was Kate Korven, and she’d been ripped out of my world without warning.
I used to think my love for Konflict would be enough to make me want to keep going, but after a year of catastrophic marriage, all I had left was hate and a bone-deep craving for it all to end.
There was nothing left in this life for me, nothing I’d regret when I was gone.
Except... Knox.
He was the breath of fresh air I’d been starving for.
The version of my husband I’d dreamed about; the man I’d wished I could have every day.
Just like I’d promised, every night I went to Vixen’s to find him and lose myself in his arms. Ever since he told me never to deprive him of my body again, I hadn’t missed a single day.
He was always there, waiting, ready for me, ready to give me any pleasure I craved.
He had no idea how much letting me see him as the man I loved healed something in me, as if I could die having tasted my most intimate wish—to lose myself in my husband’s arms. No hate, no bitterness, just pure desire.
That was what I felt with Knox. With him, I experienced a loving and passionate version of Konflict, even though I knew deep down it was only a projection of my heart.
Knox let me have that fantasy because he understood how much I needed it.
But every morning, reality reeled me back in when I returned to the Korven estate, to my routines, to my countdown, and to my husband, whom I still despised with every cell in my body.
Over the past two weeks, Konflict had grown more unbearable than ever.
Maybe it was just the tension of my final days, maybe I was taking all my stress out on him, but I couldn’t stand the way he acted anymore.
He was around all the time, far too present for my liking.
He’d show up at the estate nearly every day, asking questions about my day, the conversations always ending in insults and shouting.
I couldn’t stand the sight of him. His newfound politeness drove me up the wall because it felt like open mockery.
Konflict Korven, being nice. What a joke!
“What do you need? What do you like? What can I do for you?”
He bombarded me with question after question, bringing me gifts I always returned, making me feel like some animal he was fattening up for slaughter.
Maybe he wanted to ease his conscience before killing me.
If so, I had no intention of making it easy for him.
I was cold and distant, and that was how it would remain, even tonight, when I had to show up for my last Big Six party.
I put on the dress I’d picked out for myself, definitely not the one he’d sent, but gorgeous in its own way.
It was short, showing off my legs, with a slit running scandalously high, and heels that helped accentuate my waist. I left my hair in an afro with a few curls framing my face, and as always, I tucked some flowers into it for my personal touch.
One look in the mirror and I smirked, knowing I’d be the talk of the night.
“You really hate peace, Serenity,” Valery teased, smiling at me.
“My name’s Serenity, not Peace,” I shot back, winking at her before heading for the Marquette estate.
I felt confident, playful, but I didn’t expect to find Konflict waiting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a three-piece suit so sharp it stole the breath from my lungs before I could stop myself.
He locked eyes with me the whole way down, face unreadable but gaze so intense I felt stripped bare.
His mouth was pinched with frustration, but instead of irritating me, it pulled at something low in my belly.
He looked so good I thought I might start ovulating right there.
That thought scared me. What the hell was wrong with me, reacting to him like this, when he was everything I hated.
And what was he doing here, anyway? He’d never bothered to escort me to any event in the past. I figured this time would be the same—meet at the party, avoid each other all night, just like we always did.
But this new personality he decided to try on, days before he was supposed to kill me, was more infuriating than anything.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you lost?” I snapped.
He watched me, not replying right away, like he was fighting not to say something he’d regret. He’d been controlling himself a lot lately, and that wasn’t like him at all. So I pushed him, wanting to see him drop the act.
“Don’t tell me it took you a whole year to figure out how to collect your wife for an event. Seems a little late to bother.”
“Why aren’t you wearing the dress I sent?” he finally said.
I flashed a smirk I knew would piss him off.
“Because I don’t give a damn about you, your gifts, or your orders just because you decided to try acting like a man in the last two weeks.
Go test that out on Eleana Sawyer. I’m not interested in being your experiment.
Frankly, I preferred you when you were just an asshole. At least then you were less annoying.”
He stared into my eyes, unsmiling. I tried to ignore him as I reached the last step, but before I could solidly plant my foot, his hands caught me and lifted me clean off the ground.
I didn’t expect it. My heart lurched so hard I thought it might break my ribs as I tried to breathe, desperate not to show how much he rattled me.
“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” I shouted, but he didn’t say a word, just carried me up the stairs, cradling me like a bride and refusing to let go.
My body was pinned to his chest, my heart burning hot and wild.
I couldn’t remember ever being this close to him except when he pulled me from that pool.
Against my will, I found myself melting, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
The scent of his cologne teased my senses and his eyes, dropping to me with something like tenderness, knocked the ground from under me.
The strangest part was how familiar it felt—like my body remembered him, it felt as if I belonged right there in his arms.
He kicked open the door, carrying me into my bedroom and my pulse hammered harder.
“Would you rather I undress you myself and put you in the dress I picked or are you going to cooperate and do as I ask, Serenity?” he asked, his lips so close to mine I could feel the heat of his breath.
It should’ve sounded like rage, especially when you were planning to murder a woman in two days… right? Why the fuck did this man speak so close to my lips, with that flirtatious tone, that look like he was ready to kiss me and make love to me instead of slitting my throat?
“Fuck off, Konflict. Put me down and get out of my bedroom,” I barked, all sharp edges.
He smirked. God, I loved and hated that smirk so much it made my heart quiver.
He set me down, holding my gaze, wetting his lips in such a way I despised what it did to me.
Then slipped out the door with one last order, “You have ten minutes to put on the dress. If you don’t, I’ll come dress you myself, wifey,” he called.
I won’t lie, the tone and the words, sent my heart tumbling straight to my clit, and it pissed me off that he could have this effect on me.
“Jesus. I need to get through this party and go fuck Knox, because what my body is doing right now is definitely not what I want. Absolutely not. I hate Konflict. I loathe him. He annoys me. I don’t find him attractive at all,” I muttered to myself, peeling out of my own dress and slipping into the one he’d chosen.
It was more beautiful than anything I had ever worn, and just as I suspected, it fit my curves perfectly. The tailor had outdone himself with the measurements and the cut, precise and impossible to ignore. I had to admit it, for once, my idiot husband had good taste.