55. Neomi
A week passes by in a blur.
Life with Lars settles into a rhythm I never imagined for myself.
Our penthouse sits high above the city, the wide windows wrapping around the living space and overlooking the city.
During the day, the skyline glitters with glass and sunlight, and at night the city glows beneath us in a thousand scattered lights.
It still feels surreal sometimes, standing in a kitchen larger than my old apartment back in Florida, while watching traffic crawl along the streets dozens of floors below.
I spend some afternoons at the estate with Zara and Violette, both of them determined to make me feel welcome in a world I still don’t fully understand.
Zara has a dry humor that sneaks up on you, and Violette has a way of asking questions that makes it impossible not to answer honestly.
They treat me like I belong amongst them, which still catches me off guard when I stop to think about it.
It’s been a long time since anyone treated me like family.
When I return to the penthouse, Lars always seems to appear shortly after, as if the man somehow senses the exact moment I walk through the door.
Tonight he has taken over the kitchen again, as he works at the stove with quiet concentration.
The smell of garlic and butter fills the room, drifting through the open space while I sit at the island with a glass of wine, watching him move between the counter and the range.
“You’re staring,” he says without turning around.
“Can you blame me? I have an insanely hot husband cooking me dinner. I would even say I’m allowed to drool.”
He chuckles as he stirs. “Is that all it takes? A simple dinner served by a man in sweatpants?”
“I’m easy when it comes to you.”
He glances over his shoulder with a crooked grin. “I’ll remember that, and I’ll use those words against you someday.”
I laugh softly and lift my glass.
Lars carries two plates to the island a moment later and I cut into the food, humming in satisfaction with the first bite. For a few minutes we eat in comfortable silence. The penthouse is quiet around us, the low sound of the city drifting through the glass and it’s peaceful.
That word—peaceful—still feels strange attached to my life.
But the past few days, anytime my mind quiets, the memory of our night with Gabriel slips into my thoughts before I can stop it.
I see flashes of dim lights and champagne glasses, the curve of Gabriel’s smile across the table, and the way Lars’s hand held mine while we watched him.
The tension between them had been electric even before their mouths met, and the moment it happened something inside me changed in a way that has made me question everything.
I take a sip of wine, trying to decide if I should say what is on my mind.
We haven’t really spoken about that night.
He’s been in countless meetings all week and I’m trying to gain my footing in a new city.
But he promised me his schedule was cleared tonight, that this time is ours, so, I need to ask questions.
“My life has changed so quickly,” I say finally.
Lars looks up from his plate. “That sounds ominous.”
“It isn’t ominous, just an observation. You’re dramatic,” I tease.
“I’m realistic. Tell me what’s on your mind, Bella.”
I set my fork down. “Do you ever think about him?”
Lars’s brow furrows slightly. “Who?”
I give him a look and understanding dawns, and the corner of his mouth tips up.
“Gabriel?” he asks.
“Yes.” I nod.
He studies me for a moment before answering. “Sometimes.”
“I do too,” I admit.
Lars leans back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass while his eyes remain fixed on mine.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he says over the rim of his glass.
“Does it worry you?”
He shakes his head. “Not particularly.”
“That sounds like another careful answer.” I push.
“It’s an honest one.”
I rest my elbows on the counter and watch him beside me at the island.
“I also think about poker. I miss playing,” I say after a moment. “I miss the unpredictability of it. The way the room feels when you sit down at a table and know anything could happen.”
Lars’s expression softens with quiet amusement. “You miss the thrill.”
“I do.”
He sighs, collecting his thoughts. “Bella, I promise you, once my family resolves the threat of Anthony Falco, we’ll get you back at a table. But right now, it’s too dangerous.”
I bite my bottom lip. “In other words, I’m in danger.”
His hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ear. “My family respects women and children. Falco’s doesn’t. We’re all keeping our people close right now.”
“Okay.”
He curls his pasta around his fork and stabs a piece of chicken. “Now, Gabriel. Was he also a thrill for you?”
“Maybe.”
His gaze holds mine steadily, searching my face.
“Do you want to see him again?” he asks.
Lars is being gentle with his words, but it still makes my pulse quicken.
“Yes,” I say cautiously. “I think I do.”
Lars taps his fingers once against the counter as he considers that.
“And you’re wondering if I would be okay with it?”
I nod and a smile forms on his lips.
“Bella, if I wasn’t okay with it, that man never would have touched you. I would have taken his fingers if he tried.”
“That’s not a comforting statement.”
He shrugs. “It’s an honest one.”
He reaches and takes my hand, his thumb brushing slowly over my knuckles. I hold his gaze.
“And if we see him again?” I ask.
Lars leans back in his chair, considering the question like a man weighing a high-stakes gamble.
“Then we see what happens,” he says. “We allow ourselves to explore.”
The calm certainty in his voice makes my heart beat a little faster. He turns in his chair, facing me with his hands on my thighs.
“While you were getting dressed that morning, Gabriel did say that he wanted to see us again, but I let him know that I had to wait for your permission. I needed you to be the one to ask.” His thumb strokes my cheek.
“I have his phone number, and I can reach out to him, if that’s what you would like. ”
“I would like that but—” I say, my hand resting on his thigh. “Lars, I want to make one thing clear.”
His eyes shine with amusement. “And what is that?”
I slide my hand to his inner thigh, continuing up to cup his dick over his sweatpants. “If we have an open marriage, it’s for both of us. We don’t wonder separately, we only have fun together.”
His eyes close and he exhales sharply as I grip his growing erection through the fabric.
“Fuck, Bella.” His eyes come back to mine. “I love it when you lay down rules.”
I begin to stroke him. “I’m yours and you’re mine, Lars. We’re the foundation. We never let anyone break what we’re building.”
He cups my jaw, pulling me to him. His words are a whisper against my lips. “No one will ever come between you and I.”
His hand moves down to my breast, his fingers pinching my hard nipple through my T-shirt and I feel the spark in my core.
“Why did it take me so long to find you, Lars?”
He rocks his forehead against mine. “You never stayed in one place long enough. And my heart wasn’t ready. But now, Bella? I’m yours and you’re not going anywhere. Try to leave me and I will hunt you down. Fuck, I’ll take you captive. Keep you in a cage all for myself.”
I reach under the waistband of his pants and grip him fully.
He curses and says, “Get on your knees and show me how thankful you are that you found me.”