Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
I need time to think….
In the whole of human existence, that phrase was often the death knell to a relationship.
I need time to think….
As the day progressed in heavy silence, from early morning to late afternoon, he waited, his mind spinning, trying to figure out what she’d say, what she’d demand of him, and how he would give her every damn thing she asked for.
His cell pinged from his pocket, startling him.
For the first time ever, he’d set it to silent before he’d gotten on the helicopter, but Logan had added a program that allowed a “ping” to notify him of any critical information.
If investors or his assistant wanted to get a hold of him, they were shit out of luck, but his brothers would always be a priority.
Knowing he had to see what was so critical when he was fighting for his life and marriage, he sighed and pulled the cell from his pocket.
It was a text from Adrian—with a ridiculous screen name only Logan could give, most definitely playing off their brother’s penchant for being a Wall Street shark.
BabyShark: The Mancinis are restless. Big Mancini is on the warpath looking for you. I was able to calm him by telling him you’d be at the Winter Gala.
Shit. Fucking shit.
The Winter Gala was the biggest, most opulent, most envied event of the year. It was the holiday event of the season, paid for by Maddox Corp, and getting a ticket was like finding a heart transplant match—nearly impossible unless you had connections.
Gideon had been signing invoices and fielding calls from big names for the last four months, because it was important to retaining the power of the Maddoxes; the show of wealth, power, and prestige above any other in the fucking country.
And the moment his wife walked out of this life, he’d forgotten all about it. Because it wasn’t as important as she was.
BabyShark: If you can get Kendra to come with you, it would kill two birds with one stone.
Gideon didn’t need to ask Adrian what he meant.
If Gideon could get Kendra to the gala, it would continue the public image of the happily married man, a man of loyalty and family, something a majority of their investors salivated over.
Also, if he could get his wife to the gala, he could put Mancini in his place, once and for all.
Then…there was the third reason he needed to get Kendra to that gala—and idea that had just struck him so hard his heart stumbled.
Yes….
Yes, he had the perfect idea, the most dramatic and dangerous to his already terminal ego way to prove to his wife that he truly loved her and wanted the chance to rebuild their marriage.
Quickly, he texted back.
BigMad: I will do what I can to get her there. Have Logan and Lucian keep an eye on Mancini and his rabid pup.
BabyShark: Will do. Hope to see you there.
Gideon read the text, stuffed his cell back into his pocket, and let his gaze drift to the woman sitting outside in the heated, glass enclosed veranda.
She was tucked under a blanket, gaze fixed on the snow softly falling on the back garden, the light of the fading sun kissing her delicate features.
God, she was beautiful—the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. And he was losing her.
No!
No, he refused to admit defeat, not when giving in meant death. Kendra, his heart and soul, would kill him dead if she left him, for she was the blood in his veins, the breath in his lungs, and the only thing keeping his soul tethered to this world. Without her, he would have no reason, no purpose.
In the face of losing his wife, money, power, legacy—it meant nothing.
It was too bad it had taken him three years and his wife leaving him to realize that.
Determined to start as he meant to go on, he headed into the kitchen to make a late lunch, something he hadn’t done since his brothers were little.
As a grown man of means, he had chefs, Michelin-star restaurants on speed dial, and a wife who loved to feed him, and so he hadn’t turned on a burner in decades.
He’d do that today, though, because simply cooking for Kendra would mean more to her than if he slipped a 40-carat diamond bracelet on her wrist.
Checking the refrigerator and the cupboards, he decided on a simple salad, pan-seared chicken thighs, with a side of roasted Brussels sprouts.
According to The Expectant Father, pregnant moms needed folic acid, protein, and iron.
He’d already researched and then ordered the most recommended prenatal supplements—no expense spared—and called in a few favors to get the world’s best dietitians and nutritionists on his payroll.
His wife and baby would lack for nothing, and he was determined as fuck that Kendra’s pregnancy was smooth, she and the baby were healthy, and that he would meet every need she had without complaint.
He might be cursed to be the world’s worst father, but he refused to not even try to be at least a mediocre father.
Fuck mediocre—you’ll be the best fucking dad this kid will ever need. You aren’t about failure, Gideon Maddox, so get your head out of your ass, pull down your balls, and do what you do best.
Once the food was ready, he texted Kendra, and moments later she shuffled into the kitchen, taking a seat in the breakfast nook where he’d placed the food.
She stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping, at the table.
“You made this?” she asked, disbelief obvious and warranted.
He grinned lopsidedly, both charmed and humored by her surprise.
“Yes.” He took the seat across from her and began filling her plate.
“I made sure everything is prepared to American Medical Association guidelines on mother and fetal health—but I hope it is edible, at least. It’s been a while since I stepped into a kitchen to do something other than get a corkscrew and wine glasses. ”
Kendra, now staring at him like he’d grown four heads and seventy horns, huffed. “You treat the kitchen like the neutral zone; you come and go but you leave no trace behind.”
This time his grin was from ear to ear. Lord, she was fucking cute.
Taking a bite of the chicken, Kendra blurted, “Whoa, Gideon—this is delicious!”
Warmed by her praise, he dug into his own meal, delighted by what he was able to make, and proud he could feed her, provide for her.
The beast inside him rumbled happily, its chest expanded with pride; their mate and baby were fed.
Now, to get them home.
As they ate, Gideon watched her, devouring her beloved features even as he cleared his plate.
Finally, once she’d swallowed her last forkful, she pinned him with wary eyes.
“There’s something you want to say, so say it,” she said laconically, proving, once again, she was a woman who considered each word before she spoke them, a checkmark on his mental list three years ago of reasons she was perfect as his wife candidate.
“I need to go home—the Winter Gala is in two days, and I have to be there,” he replied.
“And you need me there to complete the Perfect Maddox Family picture,” she quipped, leaning back and crossing her arms.
“I want you there, with me, as my wife, but not to complete some bullshit picture for the media or investors—”
She grunted, rolling her eyes incredulously.
He wanted to kiss her and shake her at the same time.
“Kendra,” he said, reaching across the small bistro table to grasp her arm and pull it closer so he could take her hand in his.
“I want you there because you’re my wife, the best part of me, and I want to share that night with you.
No gimmicks, no posing for the cameras, just husband and wife, enjoying a fine evening together… .”
She cocked her head thoughtfully, carefully considering his words.
And she looked so adorable and delectable, he couldn’t stop himself from drawling, “…and then going home to fuck ourselves into exhaustion.” He deliberately dropped his voice to a growl, and her eyes snapped wide, lust shining bright and deviant on her face.
Gideon shifted in his seat, his cock hard and throbbing in jeans suddenly too tight for where his mind was taking him.
Kendra tugged on her hand, but he held it tight.
“Gideon,” she snapped, “we are nowhere close to that yet.”
The word “yet” sang like angelic music in his mind. He nodded once, his eyes never leaving her face. “I know, baby, but a man can fantasize.”
She snorted. “Yeah, you do that.”
He chuckled, loving that he could just…be. He laughed, he felt things, and he actually let himself show those feelings.
It was liberating in a way even his billions couldn’t provide.
And he’d never felt so free as he did in that moment, sitting in that breakfast nook across from his pregnant wife.
“Fine,” Kendra declared, “I’ll go back with you to attend the Winter Gala—but that doesn’t mean I’m coming home, Gideon.
I am still so hurt; there is still too much I haven’t even begun to process…
I just….” She blinked away tears, the sight tearing at his soul.
“I’m not ready to forgive you, Gideon…and I don’t know if I ever will be. ”
Heart in his throat, he couldn’t speak, so he simply nodded.
His wife was coming home…and he would do whatever he had to to keep her there.