Chapter 5- Marry me again

Elvie Carlton was a deadly habit he'd finally broken—and he planned to keep it that way.

"Very well," he grumbled, turning to face her. "We'll come back next time with our daughter, okay?"

Her gorgeous face lit up. She looked fresh without makeup and with her hair pulled back into a casual ponytail. She looked to be significantly younger than his own age, just old enough for college.

"Thank you," she responded cheerfully.

Thank you. Another term from her that he'd never heard before

Yes, in a year while they were married, they seldom communicated with each other, and it would often take a week for a single Yes or No to come from the two of them, even after she had done everything she could to win him.

But now? Was she always this polite? So innocent? So...pure? So sweet?

Was he really this bad? He sighed as his chauffeur drove effortlessly through the city, turning right to the airport, Zander looked away, resting back in the dark leather seat.

They landed in Scotland two hours later and are presently on their way to his mansion.

Zander closed his eyes as the car merged into the private road to his state, rigid and exhausted from jet lag and the whiplash of the last few days.

Yes. He managed to track her down after all this time.

And the fact that never left his mind. He has a child.

Of course, he was still in shock.

But what happened to Elvie? He wondered quietly, what had caused her to crash her car? Was it an accident?

Yesterday, he called his friend, a detective in London, and told him to investigate the incident.

But the fact that bothered him so much was: could he trust Elvie?

No. Never!

He couldn't even trust her to take care of a houseplant before, much less a child. She was not even slightly maternal. She wouldn’t love a child. She was the least loving person Zander had ever met.

Damn! This woman is the death of me, he thought to himself.

Slowly, Zander opened his eyes.

He didn't even know about the child, but now he was absolutely sure of one thing.

He had to protect his her. He had to find his daughter.

"I'm confused. Why—um, if you found me in London, maybe my child was in London?" Elvie asked.

"I don't think so."

"What made you say that?" Elvie frowned at him.

"Because my men had been looking for you for days."

"Days?"

"Yes," he lied. "They tracked you from Paris to London."

"Then why are we here in Scotland? We should go to Paris and look for—"

"Don't worry, Elvie. You’ll see her soon. Okay? I promise you."

"Okay," he heard her say. Steeling his expression, Zander turned to face her. Her face looked bewildered, almost sad, as she added hesitantly, Elvie touching his hand, "I'm sorry for worrying you too much. I don't know what happened between us, but I think going home would be a great idea for me to recover my memories."

"Yes," he answered. Home. Against his will, he had the sudden image of Elvie in his bedroom at his mansion spread across his large bed, with the curtains twisting from the sea breeze coming off the sparkling ocean.

That had never happened, and it never would!

Then suddenly her eyes went wide. "By the way, what’s my job?"

"You don’t have any. You spend your days shopping and attending parties around the world. You’re my wife for a reason."

"What?" She gaped at him. "You’re joking."

He just said, "No." He thought he needed to lie. Though, partly, he was right, since he married her, Elvie gave up her accounting job at a firm. Yet he needed to lie now to make her feel bad.

And just like Kristal, he would imprint on her mind that she was an irresponsible wife. After all, Kristal had been one of his mistakes. Zander had no idea how Kristal and her shady friends roamed in groups like parasites, draining a luxury hotel dry before moving on to the next. How on earth could he have been so taken in by Kristal and her lies? What had driven him insane enough to be so enslaved with her anyway?

If he told her that, Elvie might detect the derision in his voice and wonder what his genuine sentiments were.

But he needed to lie to her somehow; after all, he didn't have any idea what had happened to her for the last five years.

But how could he ensure that his kid was never ignored, harmed, or abandoned before?

A new thought suddenly occurred to him.

If she could not remember him, if she could not remember who she was or what she’d done, it meant she would have no idea what was about to hit her. She would have no defence.

A slow smile curled his lips as he built his new plan. He could take everything from her, including their child. And she would never see it coming.

"It must be very boring for me to just... be, um, I mean, without a job—" She froze as if remembering something, her face crumpling.

Weird, she thought to herself. Somehow, in her fuzzy mind, she could swear she had a job from somewhere just to sustain her daughter. She could almost remember the pain, the exhaustion, the anger, the sadness, and the happiness of having her.

She shook her head as her mind started to fog.

"Dear, are you okay?"

"Yes, just a little headache. I was trying to remember something, but it hurt."

Watching the swift movement of scenery on the outskirts of Scotland through the window behind her, he muttered, "Don't think too much. Memories will come eventually."

He was supposed to be in love with her. He had to make her believe that if he wanted his plan to succeed. "I’m sorry, Elvie," he said abruptly. "But as far as I know, you don't like to work. I didn't force you to have a job because, clearly, I can sustain your needs."

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

Zander drew her into his arms and pressed her against his chest. He kissed the back of her neck. Her hair, unkempt as it was, still smelled like cinnamon and sugar, the scents he associated with her. The scent that stiffened and tense his body with hunger, with the instant lure of a long-desired vice.

Why couldn't he get over his attraction to her? After everything her brother had done and how she'd nearly destroyed him, how could his body still crave her like a dying man craves water? Was he really a lunatic? Was he lacking in dignity and ego? He divorced her because he felt he loved Kristal, but if he was honest with himself, he regretted letting Elvie go.

He was arrogant; he thought as he clenched his jaw. It was just her. Yes, his hatred remained, but he needed her.

He was after her. Even now, despite her sweet timid demeanour, her innocence drew him in like a flame. He remembered the passion that burned within her. And how he was the only man who had ever had a taste of it.

He felt himself tighten. Stop! He ordered himself. He wouldn’t think about her in bed. He wouldn’t want her. He did have some control over his own body, damn it!

Then, she clenched her fingers against his sleeve, her face pressing into his crisply tailored shirt. "So I have no one now." Her voice was small, almost a whisper. "No parents. No brothers or sisters. No one."

"You still have a brother, though."

"In the mental institution? If I'm being honest, I felt like...I have no one."

Zander stared down at her, tilting her head up to watch the tears sparkle in her lovely blue eyes. "You have me."

She swallowed, scanning his face for the passion hidden beneath his look. He trained his face to express worry, adoration, and the closest thing to love he could muster while never having felt it.

A sigh came from Elvie's lips as she exhaled. A soft smile graced her lips. "And our daughter."

"Yes." He gave a single grim nod. Their child was the reason he had to make sure his control over Elvie was absolute. The reason he had to make her believe he cared for her.

It was no different, he noted sarcastically, from what she'd done to him before. He would lull her into believing she could trust him. Make her willingly marry him again. Just like what she did before. Luring him into marrying her.

Then—oh, then…

His life's objective would be to make her recall the truth the moment their marriage was finalised again. He'd be there for her when she remembered. He would see her face as it fell. And he would crush her. The thought of revenge made his heart glad. He would make her beg for her brother’s life. And it would be his last laugh.

Not revenge, he told himself. Justice.

Leaning forward, he held her closer in the backseat of the limousine.

"Elvie," he cupped her face in his large hands. "I want you to marry me again."