Zander set the papers down, sitting on the edge of her desk and lacing his fingers nonchalantly. So Matheo had planned it all along. The old cow killed his parents. His meeting Elvie, his falling in love with her, giving up on the Davis family—every single thing And he’d walked right into his trap. Well, almost. He would pay! Dearly. Zander thought to himself. He didn’t make the mistake of asking Elvie if she’d known about it. Of course she hadn’t. Instead, he focused on how to deal with this shit. “We’ve both been set up,” he said. “And he—the bastard—killed my parents!” His voice shuddered with enough hatred to melt the antarctic. And though he had his doubts before, he disregarded his instinct and thought that Matheo wasn't capable of doing such nineious things. “He—will pay! I will make sure he—” "Zander." She put a hand on his shoulder, and he resisted the urge to pull her into him and bury his face in her hair. “I'm sorry." Elvie had this touch that made sh*t go away. Bad shi
They went home to his mansion. To his cock’s disappointment, he slept in the master bedroom alone because Thea was sick and Elvie slept in her room. But it was still better than sleeping in a million-star hotel or at the Stanton Towers, which he couldn’t even look at after he’d learned what he had about his father not being his real father. He wasn’t the one who’d cheated on him. Yet Zander was the one who’d taken most of Matheo’s wrath. In the morning, Elvie gave her brother a shake from what looked like sewer water, green puke, and misery and slid a bowl of cereal his way. It wasn’t even a brand. It was poured right out of a six-pound industrial box with a Costco logo. “Where is the chef?” “Vacation…half of the staff too.” Elvie smiled. “Cavities and diabetes. Breakfast of champions,” Zander muttered into the bowl as he took a spoonful. “My apologies. Our room service doesn’t work on Mondays. Butler is sick. No chef, yeah so, stick with me!” Elvie took a seat next to her dad a
“I need you to turn my maybe into a definitely." Zander crawled into Elvie’s bed at the end of that gruelling Monday in the office. “Yeah, right. What are you doing here? Thea will—” “Come on, can a man get some time alone with his wife?” Elvie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t kick him out, even though a small, vindictive part of her wanted to. Life was too short to deprive yourself of spending time with those you love—something I’d learned the hard way. She thought to herself. His body seemed to mould into her massive mattress. Somehow, he fit. If there was one thing she’d realised this year, it was that sometimes they belong in the last place they thought they’d ever be. “Wife, let’s turn maybe into definitely.” “How can I do that?” she put her thriller in her lap and let his arm loop around her waist, dragging her into the crook of his shoulder. His lips fluttered along her neck. “Stay at SBC, stay with me no matter how this sh*t turns out. I can’t make it without you.” “Make
Elvie was shivering in the rain, and her mind was nowhere near sane. She was hurt, betrayed, and alone. But then she realised there was something in the rain that made her forget who she was—that she was nothing more than her husband's enemy. And, yes, her best friend was right; it was difficult to be a wife willing to sacrifice her heart for a husband who doesn't love her back. A few minutes later, she arrived at Stanton’s mansion. Elvie knocked on her husband’s door. "Zander!" "What the hell do you want?" His irritated voice came as he opened the door. Elvie sighed. "I've been married to you for a year, but we've never really been a couple." "So?" "I'll sign the divorce papers; you and your lover may proceed with your affair by calling it quits on our marriage." Zander frowned. "What do you mean?" "You're free to go. You can marry her. But for now, could y-you um, make love to me?" "What?" "This is my last and only request; please make up for my love for you throughout the
Five years later. Zander Stanton had heard a lot of lies in his life, particularly about his gorgeous, wicked, missing ex-wife, who had left him five years before. But this one took the cake. "That's impossible!" he exclaimed as he stared at the doctor. "She's lying. She's tricked me yet again with her elaborate scheme. She—" "I assure you, Mr. Stanton, it's real she really has no memory," said Dr. Bill solemnly. "Your ex-wife has no memory—not of you, not of me, and not even of her accident the day before." "Because she's a liar!" "It's real, sir. However, she was wearing a seat belt when her head hit the airbag," Dr. Bill explained further. "There is no concussion, but unfortunately—" With a frown on his face, Zander looked at the old man. He was known as a doctor of great talent and honesty. He was affluent as a result of a lifetime of servicing wealthy, aristocratic patients, and he couldn't be purchased. He was renowned as a family guy, still in love with his wife of 45 year
Elvie was vaguely aware of a murmur of voices and the faint hum of the heating system around her. Someone—was it the nurse? or the old doctor? She inhaled the sweet aroma of rain, ocean, and silky fabric. But she refused to open her eyes. Her head ached so badly that all she wanted to do was close her eyes and cry. She didn't want to get out of bed. She didn't want to leave the darkness and tranquility of sleep, the warmth of scarcely remembered dreams that still held her like a tight embrace. She didn't want to return to existence's void, where she had no memories. No identity. Nothing to hold on to. It was nothingness, far greater than any suffering. And then the doctor told her a few hours ago that she had a four-year-old daughter. She couldn’t remember conceiving the child. Couldn’t even remember the face of her baby’s father. But she will meet him today. He would be here in a minute. She thought to herself. Elvie clenched her eyes tight, covering her head with the pillow. She
Zander hesitated with a little scowl on his brow. He appeared to choose his words carefully when he talked. "I was in Los Angeles acquiring a new company, believe me," he continued, "I never wanted to be so far away from you." "Okay." Elvie had the impression that he was keeping something from her. Was it her own bewilderment playing games with her? In this foggy, empty world, she couldn't trust anything, not even her own thinking! "I miss you, dear. And yes, you are so beautiful," he remarked as he cupped her face. He breathed quickly. "I almost feared I'd never see your face again." What the hell was wrong with him? She thought. "You mean when you heard about the accident? Were you concerned about me?" she said quietly. She licked her lips when he didn't respond. She took a deep breath and voiced the question that had been bothering her. "Because we love and care about each other? " He took a big breath, and his jaw clenched. "Yes. My late grandma arranged for us to marry five
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 hou