Chapter 17 - Simon
I stand at the window in my office, looking over the city, wondering how the fuck it came to this. How was I so blind? Such a fool to fall for her again. Yet here I am in love, in pain, and regretting the choices I made.
The penthouse feels so much smaller than it did before we left for the holiday.
Now that we’re back, the tension is palpable. The weight of it is thick in the air.
I’m furious. I can’t let go of the anger.
The amount of effort I put into keeping her safe, into promising her that no one would hurt her—the things I did and the things I was willing to do—but all that time she was doing exactly what I stood up and defended her for. She was trying to feed her family information about my family.
She betrayed me.
She betrayed me five years ago when she disappeared and hid my children. And she betrayed me again now.
I think most of the anger is a way to hide the heartbreak.
Because my heart is breaking. The entire future that I was slowly building in my mind has been shattered all over again. Just like it was when I thought I would marry her five years ago, and she vanished into thin air.
I can’t even confront her about it because I’m too angry. Too hurt. I’m not ready to face it. So I do the only thing I can do: I avoid her.
The penthouse becomes strained. Each moment when we cross paths is so awkward, I can feel it crawling over my skin. I leave the room as soon as she enters. I make excuses about working during dinner time. I only go to say goodnight to the twins once she has left their room.
It’s horrible. It’s claustrophobic. It’s drowning me.
One night, late, after Selene has tucked them in and read a story, I sneak into their room to kiss them goodnight. Arron is still awake.
“Daddy, why are you and Mommy fighting?” he asks, sounding worried.
“We’re not fighting,” I say, gently touching his cheek.
“Yes, you are. It’s scary, even though you don’t say anything.”
I sigh, hating that he can pick up on the tension so easily. What did I expect? He’s not blind. I think a deaf, dumb, and mute person would pick up on the tension between Selene and me.
“Do we have to move out?” Arron asks, his little voice breaking as he fights tears.
“Oh, absolutely not. Never. No kiddo, no.” I scoop him into my arms and hold him against my chest. “Your mommy and I are just working some things out. I promise you it’s not so bad.
It just seems bad, but we will figure it all out.
You aren’t moving out. Never. This is your home, and it always will be. ”
He looks up at me, his eyes wide with relief. “Promise?” he asks.
I nod, “Promise. Pirates code promise,” I say.
“Pirates are not very good at keeping promises,” he grins.
“Alright. How about this. If I break this promise, I will have to de-shell one hundred prawns all by myself,” I say, raising my brows in seriousness.
His eyes go wide. “One million,” he says, negotiating hard.
“Alright. Deal. And you know I never want to do that, right? So, I will never break the promise,” I say sternly.
The deal seems to please him and satisfy his worries. He snuggles back against the pillow, slipping his hand underneath it to grab something.
“What have you got under there?” I ask.
He pulls his hand out to show me a golden coin. “It was the best day ever,” he smiles, playing with the coin that is almost the size of his hand. “I never had a day like that before.”
My heart breaks for him. Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed them back home. But what choice did I have? Safety over anything else.
“We’ll go back to the beach soon, little one. You’ll have so many best days you won’t know what to do with all of them.”
“Ok,” he says through a yawn as his eyes drift closed.
I stand up, leaving them to sleep, and make my way to my own bedroom.
This is the most awkward part of the whole arrangement.
Selene and I are still sharing a bed. We briefly discussed how it would confuse and upset the twins if she suddenly moved back into her room, so she’s still in mine.
She’s still next to me at night, her warmth seeping across the sheets and tainting me.
Her scent on my pillows and her body curved against mine when she absentmindedly drifts closer to me in her sleep.
Fuck.
It’s so fucking hard because the trust has faltered, not the attraction.
Selene looks up at me when I walk in. “Um, I’m finished in the bathroom if you want to shower,” she says polite and clipped.
“Thank you,” I reply, just as clipped.
I take a step towards the bathroom as she steps forward, and we almost bump into each other. For a moment, we do a weird little dance around each other, trying to step around each other.
I stop, lift my hands in defense. “You go. I’ll wait,” I huff.
She licks her lips nervously and steps around me. She keeps her back to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, and she gracefully runs cream into her legs.
Fuck. So beautiful. So stunningly beautiful.
A low groan rumbles through my chest as I pull my eyes off her and step into the bathroom, closing the door behind me to try and block out the image of her.
I blast only the cold water, letting it run over my skin to flush away the heated thoughts of her.
It doesn’t help, though, when I climb into bed, and she is already asleep, her hair spilling over to my pillow, her perfect lips parted, and her breathing soft.
When I pull the blankets over myself, she mumbles in her sleep and reaches for me.
I freeze as her hand rests on my chest. My heart aches. My body spikes with need.
I close my eyes and do my best to ignore it, but it’s practically impossible.
I leave before she wakes up.
It’s very early, and only just growing light outside the windows. But I can’t be here. I need escape. I need to clear my head.
When I get to the warehouse, there are only a few people there. The ones who like to arrive early and have a cup of coffee in peace before the day begins.
“Good morning.” They smile at me when I walk past.
The quiet is peaceful. It’s what I need.
In my office, I don’t rush to get to work; I just sit there silently, staring out the window that looks over the warehouse floor.
I try to keep my mind still, try to stop myself from thinking of her.
After a while, I give up, open my laptop, and start going through the morning’s emails and tasks.
The day drifts by without incident. I focus on my work.
I ignore messages from Selene. I ignore a few calls.
I keep my head down and do the best I can to avoid her and whatever the future holds for us.
I’m not ready to face the reality of it.
I’m not ready to face the idea that I might have to give up on her and what I thought we had.
Around three in the afternoon, I get the shock of my life when she storms into my office.
“What the… ?” I stammer, standing up at my desk, my eyes shooting wide.
Selene storms in and closes the door behind herself. I shake my head, immediately against this.
“What are you doing here? You need to leave. It’s not safe,” I demand, trying to step around her to open the door and usher her right back out.
She steps in my way, blocking me.
“No, you are going to talk to me, Simon. You are going to talk to me right now. And don’t try to tell me when things aren’t safe. I am a Bratva woman. Do you think I don’t know how the bratva world works? I grew up in it. I’m not naive to it!”
“I’m busy,” I huff.
“No, I am tired of tiptoeing around you, I am tired of this horrible tension. I am tired of whatever the hell is going on…”
She’s furious.
“You should have thought about that before you…”
“Stop!” she shouts.
My mouth snaps closed in surprise. I have never seen her this forceful before.
“Stop repeating the same story you made up before you even gave me a chance to explain myself. You assumed the worst and you stuck to it and you are still sticking to it, and it isn’t fair of you!”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
Dammit. She has a point.
Narrowing my eyes, I stare at her with force, still not ready to fully let go of my theories, but realizing that I may have been unfair.
Selene doesn’t care about my expression or the tension in my shoulders. She walks closer, bold, defiant. Her head is tilted up to look at me, and her hands are on her hips.
Her eyes pierce into mine, and she takes a heavy breath.
“Why, Simon, would I spend five years suffering abuse from my father because I refused to spy on your family, only to turn around and spy after I manage to escape him? Does that make sense at all? When I approached my brothers, I read their body language, assessed the situation, and used my years living in a Bratva family to make an informed decision. It wasn’t something I did to betray you or to go behind your back.
I had to make a decision quickly, without having the time to consult you…
and I expected you to trust that I made whatever decision I made in the best interest of keeping the twins and us safe. ”
My jaw clenches, muscles rippling across my face as I listen to her and feel the guilt flooding me. She keeps talking, and I keep listening.
“But you didn’t even give me the chance to say anything or explain anything when I came back from talking to my brothers.
You immediately went into attack mode, shutting me out, assuming the worst, forcing us to return home.
You were not fair. And you are not being fair now by still shutting me out. You have to stop this!”
Her tone is controlled but emotional. I clear my throat and push my hand through my hair.
She’s watching me now, waiting for my response.
And honestly, I feel like a fool. Every word she said has been fair and true.
I didn’t even give her one moment to tell me what happened with her brothers or why she went out there. I really did assume the worst.
I realize, in that understanding, that I chose the reaction I did out of pure fear. Fear that she was leaving, fear that I was falling in love with her again, still, and I was being taken for a ride… it was fear of losing her that made me lash out and then shut down.
“Fuck,” I mutter quietly, closing my eyes. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”
“You kind of did, yes,” she nods, eyeing me cautiously.
I chuckle nervously. “I’m an idiot,” I say.
The smallest smile touches the corner of her mouth. “You kind of are, yes,” she nods. I move towards her, reaching out to place my hand on her waist. She doesn’t move away, and relief washes over me.
“I owe you a massive apology, princess.” I cup my hand beneath her jaw and brush my thumb over her soft skin. “Can you forgive me?”
“Well…” She leans into my touch, her eyes drifting close. “Let me hear your apology first. Then I will decide…” She has a mischievous smile on her face now.
I clear my throat, preparing for an official and very serious speech.
She grins as she looks up at me. “I, Simon Volkov, have blundered terribly.
I have jumped to conclusions, made assumptions, and due to my own fears of losing the woman I lo…
I… “My throat closes over my words. When I speak again, the playful seriousness is gone, replaced by genuine emotion. “I’m so, so sorry, Selene. I was terrified I was losing you and acted rashly. Please will you forgive me?” I pull her into my arms and against my chest, wanting to hold her so tightly she can leave my side again.
Her eyes are glittering as she stares up at me.
Her beautiful green pools of relief and wonder.
The sight of her catches me off guard every time.
It seems impossible for someone to be this beautiful.
“I forgive you,” she whispers. She reaches up, brushing the tips of her fingers over my jaw.
It sends currents of electricity through me.
Lowering my face, I hover my lips against hers. The temptation is so intense I almost lose control. Her breath is warm against my mouth. I shouldn’t do this here, now, in the office. But the temptation of her warmth is too much to bear.
I press my mouth against hers, and the days of worry and stress and fear wash away in an instant.
Selene reaches up to wrap her hands around my neck, standing on her tiptoes to pull herself close and deepen the kiss. She wants this as badly as I do. She isn’t worried about where we are or who might see us. She only cares about the kiss, about being close to me.
My heart somersaults as I lift her into my arms and turn to push her onto the desk.
She sits there with her legs spread so I can stand between them, her summer dress teasing me with a glimpse of her under.
Is that black lace? Is she wearing the lingerie?
My body spikes with fever as I push her thighs further apart with my legs.
“Simon,” she mutters breathlessly. “Someone will see us,” she says.
“I don’t care. I need you,” I murmur against her mouth. The words seem to push away the last shred of resistance she has, and she lets out a slow gasp as she tilts her head back to let me trace kisses over her throat.