Chapter Twenty-one
SERENITY VEYLOR-KORVEN
This motherfucker brought me out on a fucking yacht!!
“What are we doing here, Konflict?”
“Told you already. I needed somewhere you can’t run from me. Out here, I know you can’t try to disappear in the middle of the night. And we’re not leaving this yacht until you’re in love with me again.”
“Fuck you. I hate you so much.”
“So I’ve heard. We’re here to fix that hate.”
The anger and frustration burning deep in my chest only got worse. He pissed me off, wore me down and made me want to kill him.
Three weeks already and I still couldn’t get over how he’d fooled me. Every time I closed my eyes, I replayed my nights with Knox—the way he touched, kissed, and made love to me, that addictive mix of rough and tender. I still couldn’t believe it was Konflict all along.
I couldn’t get past the betrayal and nothing he did could dull my anger.
“What makes you think I won’t run off in the middle of the night?”
He shot me an amused look. “Even though I hate using your fear of water and the fact you can’t swim, I didn’t have a choice. You refused to talk, and we need this if there’s any chance of saving our marriage.”
“You really are a monster.”
He grimaced. “I know. But I can be sweet too. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want to see your so-called sweet side, Konflict. And since I can’t leave this yacht, don’t be surprised if I put a bullet in your head.”
“I got you a new Glock since you lost yours a few weeks ago. I’ll leave it on your bedside table. Don’t hesitate to use it if you want. My life is yours.”
He gave me a smile that pissed me off as much as it made me want to kiss him. That was the worst part. I still wanted him, no matter how much I hated him. I kept blaming it on the pregnancy hormones.
Finding out I was pregnant changed everything.
I’d been ready to die, but this baby made me want to live.
Still, I couldn’t forgive him, not after everything he’d done.
I hadn’t told him about the pregnancy. Until he signed those divorce papers, he wasn’t hearing a word about it.
He broke my heart and I just knew nothing could make me love him again.
“Baby, you coming? I’ll show you around.”
“Don’t call me baby. You don’t have that right!”
He stared straight into my eyes and nodded. “Right. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it.”
“It’s pointless.”
“I haven’t even tried yet. You haven’t seen how hard I can fight to win that right.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know what you want, so nothing you do will ever feel real to me. It’ll all just be a performance. So don’t bother.”
He stepped closer, fingers lifting my chin so I had to meet his dark brown eyes, locked on mine. My heart started racing in my chest.
“Serenity, I know you’re angry, and I’ve got so much to make up to you. But nothing I do now is a performance. I hid my feelings for you before, but now, no one and nothing will stop me from cherishing you the way you deserve. Not even you.”
My heart raced wild and out of control. But I knew better than to fall for a pretty speech after what he’d done.
I wanted to snap back, but he didn’t give me the chance. He broke the tension, turning away.
“Come on,” he said, heading to the other side of the boat.
Stopping beside him, arms crossed over my chest, I refused to look impressed, even though the view was breathtaking. Water as far as I could see, mountain ridges in the distance. If I wasn’t so pissed, maybe I could have enjoyed this place a little more.
“Here is the bow of the yacht. It’s the best spot to relax, sunbathe, or fuck under the stars.”
I swallowed wrong, almost choking at those words. The amused look he threw at me made me want to slap him.
“We’re not fucking under the stars, Konflict.”
“Middle of the day works for me too,” he shot back, then carried on with the tour like he hadn’t just said something outrageous.
He showed me the outdoor jacuzzi, the massage area, and another spot to chill.
Inside, there was a huge living room, a kitchen with a bar, and three bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.
The master bedroom, beautifully set up and perfect for couples, was in the middle, while the other two were at opposite ends of the yacht.
There were more rooms on the lower deck, but I wasn’t in the mood to explore.
All I wanted to know was where I’d be sleeping, because there was no way in hell I was sharing a room with him.
Just as I was about to ask, Konflict beat me to it.
“I set this room up for you,” he said, opening the door to one of the end rooms and letting me step inside. “I brought everything you might need. If I missed anything, just let me know. I’ll have Krash bring it over.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “And where are you sleeping?”
He flashed that killer smile again, the one that made my hormones riot. “Other end of the boat. Unless you want to have my arms around you and feel my hard dick on your ass. Then let’s take the master bedroom.”
“No,” I shot back, not even trying to hide my disgust.
“Figured as much. I’m not in a rush to share your bed, Serenity. I said I’d earn my place. You can freshen up; I’ll get dinner ready,” he said, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
“Don’t take too long,” he said, walking off.
I stood there frozen for a second, then forced myself to pull it together.
I stepped into the room and saw he really had prepared everything. None of the clothes were familiar, but the style was so me I knew he must have done his homework. And I had to admit, his taste was impeccable. He’d thought of everything, even lingerie, body creams, my makeup kit, and perfumes.
I showered and changed into a light strapless dress that fell right to my knees. It looked amazing on me, especially with my afro tied up in a bun.
The smell of food hit me in the hallway as I left my room.
Curious, I headed for the dining area, fully expecting to find a chef at work—because only a real chef could make lobster in beurre persil smell that good, right eh?
Imagine my shock when I saw Konflict with a dish towel slung over his shoulder, squeezing a lemon into the pan, working the lobster himself.
“You cook?” I asked, skeptically.
He turned around, flashing a devastating smile. “Sometimes.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. That’s why we’re here. I want you to know the real me. Maybe you’ll fall in love again, even harder than before,” he said, winking at me.
“Keep dreaming.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try,” he replied, still wearing that damn smile. “And I want to know you too. I mean, I’ve learned a lot just watching you all these years, but I want it all—the stuff you’ve never told anyone, not even Knox.”
I rolled my eyes. The nerve of this man to even bring up his fake identity.
“Don’t make me hate you more than I already do.”
He just smiled again and went back to cooking. “Sit down. Food’s almost ready.”
Normally, I’d have offered to help. But I remembered how much I hated him and that he was the reason I was stuck here. So I wasn’t going to offer anything. He’s lucky I wasn’t being a bitch and refusing to eat his food.
Even though I wanted to keep my distance, my stomach wasn’t having it.
I was starting to think the baby liked the idea of its dad cooking for us, because my stomach started growling like I hadn’t eaten in days.
And Konflict turned to me with that cocky smile that said, ‘I got you, Mama. I’m gonna feed you. ’
“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” I muttered.
I sat in silence, watching Konflict serve up a lobster, split perfectly in half, the meat shiny and drenched in hot parsley butter. He set the plate in front of me, and I had to fight not to just tear into it like some starving animal.
He poured me a glass of juice, and I noticed there wasn’t a drop of alcohol on the table, which was a relief, since I didn’t have to explain why I had to avoid wine.
“Bon appétit,” he said, in French.
I just glanced up and stabbed my fork into the lobster. The second I tasted it I had to look away to keep him from seeing my face light up.
Holy shit, it was amazing.
I closed my eyes, swallowed, and forced myself to put on a neutral expression before facing his expectant look.
“Well?” he asked, looking a little nervous for my verdict.
“It’s just meh,” I lied shamelessly. But hey, I was pissed, so I had the right to rain on his parade a little. “It’s not bad but definitely not the best lobster I’ve ever had.”
Lies, lies, and more lies. It was the best lobster I’d ever tasted, as far as I could remember. Hell, it was the best food I’d ever eaten in my entire life. But I’d rather die than tell him that.
But even though I wanted my words to sting, he just nodded and took me seriously.
“So I need to work on the taste? Is it too salty, or too acidic? Maybe I overcooked it.”
God. When did Konflict get so damn cute?
It was unreal. Part of me wanted to comfort him, because honestly, his food tasted like something from a five-star restaurant.
But then I remembered, just last month, he was fucking me at night and threatening to kill me during the day. Compared to that, this was nothing.
“Where’d you learn to cook?” I asked, just to avoid lying any further.
“At home, with my mother. When I was a kid, she tried to keep me away from the family business because she knew what it meant. Even though being the Korven heir was my fate, she encouraged me to try other things. For a while I wanted to be a chef, then an artisan, then a musician. I ended up in engineering, which worked for the family empire. I guess you can’t really escape your destiny.
But I was lucky to explore a lot, and some of those things stuck.
Cooking is still how I unwind when life gets to be too much. ”