We pull up to the house a little after five, and the moment I step inside, I spot Desiree sitting at the dining area, flipping through a food catalog with Chef Douglas. They’re deep in conversation, and from what I can hear, it's all about the menu for Sunday’s dinner. But what really catches my attention isn’t the menu—it’s the way Douglas is practically leaning into her personal space, getting way too comfortable.“What’s that?” Desiree asks, pointing at something in the catalog.Douglas slides his chair closer to her, almost brushing against her side. I raise an eyebrow. We’re definitely going to have a conversation about boundaries sooner rather than later.“That’s ‘Boeuf Bourguignon,’” Douglas says, his voice dipping into that overly friendly tone that sets my teeth on edge.“What now?” Desiree asks.“It’s a red wine-based beef stew. A classic French dish. I think it would make an excellent choice for Sunday’s dinner.”“You think so?” she asks, genuinely curious.“I do,” Douglas
As I lean down, my lips brush against her shoulder, trailing a path of kisses up the side of her neck. Desiree shivers beneath me, her eyes meeting mine.“What’s next?” she whispers.I pause, letting the anticipation hang in the air. “Why don’t you lie back and find out?”Desiree smiles. She slowly lies back against the pillows, her gaze never leaving mine. “Comfortable?” I ask.“Getting there,” she replies, her tone just as playful.I straddle the edge of the bed, slipping my hands under her shirt, trailing my fingers lightly along her sides. Her skin is warm and smooth, and I can feel the slight tremor in her breath as I touch her. I move slowly, letting the anticipation build, watching the way her eyes darken with every brush of my fingers.“You’re not really one for rushing things, are you?” she says, half-amused, half-impatient.“Patience, Cherry. Good things take time.” I lower my lips to her stomach, placing a soft kiss there, then another, moving up inch by inch. She shifts b
I rip off her panties and fling them aside, the fabric flying across the room. Desiree's eyes lock onto mine, her pupils dilated with desire as she quickly works the zipper of my pants. I kiss her again, this time with more urgency, our tongues tangling together as we struggle to get closer.Her hands slide into my boxers, wrapping around my throbbing dick. Fuck! She's going to end me right here and now. Her touch is like fire, burning through every nerve ending in my body, leaving me breathless and desperate for more.Desiree keeps pumping forward and backward, her grip firm and confident as she drives me closer to the edge. I can feel myself losing control, the pleasure building inside me until it's almost unbearable. She pulls back, her lips breaking away from mine just long enough to whisper, "You like that?"I can only nod, my eyes fixed on hers as she continues her relentless assault on my senses. Her touch is both rough and gentle, teasing and tantalizing every inch of me."Tak
Desiree's POVIt’s Sunday, an hour before the dinner, and I’m freaking out. I keep staring at myself in the mirror, trying to calm down, but the pressure to make a good impression as a host—and as Caspian’s wife—is really getting to me.“Do you think we should just call it off?” I ask, turning to Caspian, who’s lounging on the bed like it’s no big deal.“For the hundredth time, no,” he says. “Why would we do that?”“Because everyone’s going to be here. Our parents, our siblings, Mike and Mabel—it’s going to be a disaster.”Caspian laughs, shaking his head. “It’s just our families, Cherry. What’s got you so worried?”“The drama,” I say, pacing the room. “It could get bloody.”“Good thing I’m a vampire, right? I’ll clean up any mess.”I try to smile, but the anxiety won’t let me. How is he so calm? It took so much effort to invite everyone, and I still don’t know who’s actually coming. The thought of what could go wrong makes my stomach churn.Caspian gets up and walks over, wrapping hi
I had no idea what to expect, but it certainly isn't Uncle Bruno strutting in with a sombrero perched on his head, pointy shoes, and an obvious fake tan that makes him look like he’s spent too much time under an orange sun. To top it all off, he’s speaking in a terrible Mexican accent.“Halo, halo, my people!” he declares loudly, a bottle of champagne in hand. “I bring good tidings!”He walks towards me and is about to hand over the champagne when he suddenly spots Helena sitting elegantly on the couch. For a moment, he just stops and stares, transfixed.“My god. You’re beautiful,” he says.To my surprise, Helena blushes. I can't help but roll my eyes. “What’s with the accent?” I ask.Uncle Bruno straightens up, adjusting his sombrero with a flourish. “I spent two glorious weeks in San Miguel de Allende, and I’ve come to realize that my spirit belongs to Mexico. I now identify as a Mexican. They have such wonderful food, vibrant music, and pretty women. But none,” he drops to one kne
Veronica, my older sister, seems completely unaware of the tension. She pushes past me, barely looking my way as she mutters, “Desiree, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”“Probably me,” Luke jokes, following behind Veronica, smelling like weed.I honestly don't care what they do or say. My heart is pounding in my chest. Mike and Mabel are here, and even though I’ve rehearsed this moment a million times in my head, I’m suddenly not sure it’s going to go as planned.Jessica, sensing how tense I am, moves closer, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Dee?” she asks, her voice low and serious.“Turn around,” I say, barely able to get the words out.Jessica does, and the moment she catches sight of them, her entire body goes stiff. “Dee, why would you do this? Are you trying to get me convicted for murder?”“Just act natural, Jess,” I whisper urgently, trying to keep my panic at bay.“Natural?!” I give her a quick pinch on the arm, causing her to yelp. “Can you keep yo
Caspian's POVThe evening’s been going well so far. Better than I expected, at least. Desiree’s family seems to be holding it together, even if Bruno is blatantly flirting with my mother. The man’s an oddball, but he seems harmless enough, and I’m almost relieved that everyone else is acting civilized. For now.“Did you know chickens can fly?” Bruno suddenly asks Mom, his voice carrying across the room. He’s grinning like he’s about to unveil the greatest secret of all time. “I’m telling you, the chickens I met in Mexico were badasses. You need to see them in a cockfight. Fierce and bloodthirsty.”“Aren’t cockfights illegal?” asks Veronica—Desiree’s older sister—looking skeptical as she lifts an eyebrow. She’s short, with a sharpness in her eyes that suggests she’s not easily impressed.“Not in Mexico,” Bruno answers. He leans in. “Over there, it’s practically a national sport. Those chickens are like tiny gladiators.”I bite back a laugh, catching Mom’s eye from across the room. She
All eyes are on us now.Bruno, who was mid-sentence about tequila shots, goes silent. Jessica, who was laughing at Bruno’s ridiculous story, freezes. Even my mother, who had been fawning over Bruno like he was some kind of Latin heartthrob, looks over in shock.“Well,” I say, giving Desiree’s hand a gentle squeeze, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”Mabel’s face is red with anger. Her eyes are wide, looking between me and Desiree as though we’ve committed the ultimate betrayal. Mike’s expression is a mix of confusion and hurt, his mouth opening and closing, trying to form words.“What's going on?” Mom asks.Of course, she’s the only one who doesn’t know. Everyone else is painfully aware that Desiree once dated Mike and is now married to his father. Yeah, when I think about it like that, it does sound… twisted.Bruno clears his throat, trying to calm the tension. “I think it's best if we all sit down.”For the first time tonight, I’m glad he’s spoken.With his arm around Mom's waist,
I nod, my throat tight. “You better be.” The doors to the delivery room swing open, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by bright lights, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the calm, authoritative voices of nurses. My mind is racing. My body, however, is focused on one thing: the relentless, excruciating contractions that feel like my insides are being wrung out like a soaked towel. “Breathe, Desiree. You’ve got this,” a nurse says, guiding me onto the bed. Caspian bursts through the door moments later, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man ready for battle. And, honestly, that’s what this feels like. “I’m here,” he says, taking my hand again. His grip is warm, solid, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I glare at him through the pain. “You did this to me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my sweaty forehead. “I know, baby. And you’re doing amazing.” “Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped in half!” I shout, my voice cracking wit
~~Months later~~ My best friend, Jessica, decided to organise a baby shower for me. She rented a penthouse. I know Caspian's involved in this. Who else is paying for the penthouse? The penthouse is everything Jessica promised and more—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and enough floral arrangements to make a florist weep. There’s an extravagant dessert table with a towering cake. And, of course, the unmistakable Caspian touch—a champagne fountain. I take it all in, my eyes narrowing suspiciously as I glance at Jessica, who’s currently trying to pass off the event as “modest.” Modest my ass. “You’re sure this wasn’t Caspian’s idea?” Jessica flashes her most innocent smile, which is about as believable as a politician’s promise. “I mean, he may have helped. But you deserve this! Come on, Dee, when was the last time we celebrated you?” I snort, adjusting the sash draped across my belly that reads Mom-to-Be. “You mean besides the
Desiree's POVWe're at a press conference.Cameras flash like lights at a club, and the buzz of reporters fills the air like a swarm of relentless bees. I hate it. Every second of it. But I stand tall, my hand resting in Caspian’s, my knuckles white from the grip. He doesn’t seem fazed—his jaw set, his eyes gleaming. He’s in his element.Me? I’m a bundle of nerves hiding behind a tailored dress and a painted-on smile.The tension in the room is obvious. Every gaze is pinned on us, every microphone is pointed in our direction. There’s no escaping it.Caspian steps forward, adjusting the microphone. His presence is magnetic. Commanding. He could announce the end of the world, and people would believe it was for their own good.He clears his throat, and the room falls silent.“For weeks now, CypherEdge Dynamics has been under siege,” he begins. “An individual named Mabel Blackwood infiltrated our company. She blackmailed board members, manipulated shareholders, and attempted to undermine
“Mr. Hart,” Aaron’s voice oozes through the line, smug and infuriating. “I trust you’ve been thinking about my offer.”“More like thinking about how to kill you,” I mutter under my breath, then louder: “I’ve considered it. But I need proof Desiree is alive. Now.”A pause. Then, Desiree’s voice, faint but there. “Caspian, please…”It takes everything in me not to lose it. “I’m here, Desiree. Hold on.”Aaron returns. “Satisfied?”“Barely,” I say. “You’ll get what you want. But not a second before I see her safe.”“Fine,” Aaron agrees. “Bring the drives to the location we’ll send you. Alone. And no tricks, Hart. Or she dies.”The line goes dead.Antonio is already moving, giving quick commands into his headset. “They’ll never see us coming,” he promises.I grip the phone. “They’d better not.”Because if they do, I’ll burn the entire city down before I let them take her away from me.---I park a block away from the designated warehouse, my pulse thudding in my ears. I sit there for a mom
The tone sends a chill down my spine. Calm, too calm, like this is a business deal and not—“Where is she?” I say. “If you’ve touched her—”“Tsk, tsk,” the man interrupts, almost amused. “Let’s not start with threats. You’re not in a position to make them.”I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles white. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”“Don’t I? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hart. Ruthless. Powerful. But none of that matters here.”My free hand balls into a fist at my side. “What do you want?”Finally, he gets to the point. “You’re going to deliver something to me. Two things, actually. First, the drives you took from Mabel’s mother’s house.”My mind races. How does he know about those?“And second,” he continues, “your shares in the company. Sign them over. All of them.”I laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I’ll just hand those over? Do you know what they’re worth?”“Oh, I know exactly what they’re worth.” His voice drops. “I also know what she’s worth to you.”The a
Caspian's POVIt’s been over two hours since Desiree disappeared, and the hospital has called the police against my wishes.I’m pacing the waiting room like a caged animal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead doing nothing to quell the pounding in my skull. Every passing second feels like an eternity, a loud and unrelenting reminder that she’s not here, that I don’t know where she is, that I failed to protect her.“Mr. Hart,” one of the officers starts, her voice too calm, too measured, like she’s asking about a lost cat. “Let’s go over this again. You’re sure your wife didn’t… leave voluntarily?”My fist clenches so hard my knuckles crack. I whip around, staring at her like she’s grown a second head.“Voluntarily?” The word leaves my mouth dripping with venom. “You think she just decided to disappear in the middle of a goddamn ultrasound?”The other officer, a man with a face so nondescript I could forget it in seconds, clears his throat. “We’re just trying to establish all possi
Desiree’s POVI wake up feeling like my head has been split in two.Pain radiates from the back of my skull, throbbing with every heartbeat. My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sand, and the metallic tang of blood lingers on my tongue. I try to move, but my arms won’t budge. Cold metal digs into my wrists, and the sharp edge of panic slices through the fog clouding my mind.“Welcome back.”The voice is smooth, almost polite, but it sends a chill racing down my spine. I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light until the blurry figure in front of me sharpens into focus.Aaron.He leans casually against a table, his arms crossed, a smug grin stretched across his face. He looks like a villain from one of those old spy movies—too polished, too composed, too damn pleased with himself.“What the hell,” I croak, my voice raspy. “What is this, amateur hour? I thought kidnappers were supposed to wear masks.”He chuckles, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring my sarcasm. “You’re in go
Caspian's POVDesiree has been gone for too long.I glance at the clock on the wall, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair in rhythm with my heartbeat, which is getting louder and faster with every passing second. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe this is one of those “pregnancy bladder” situations everyone warned me about. But how long does it take a pregnant woman to pee? Five minutes? Ten? I’ve lost track of time, but it feels like hours.I shift in my chair, trying to shake off the gnawing sense of unease creeping up my spine. The ultrasound pictures are still in my hand, slightly crumpled from where my grip has tightened.“She’s fine,” I mutter to myself. “She’s fine.”But the words don’t stick.Standing abruptly, I glance toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. The corridor feels longer than I remember, its sterile walls closing in like they’re mocking me. Every instinct in me screams that something isn’t right.Dr. William steps out of an adjacent room, looking surpr
Dr. William turns to us, his smile widening. “It’s a girl.”For a moment, the world stops. A girl. We’re having a daughter.“A girl,” I repeat, the words tasting foreign and magical on my tongue. Tears spill over before I can stop them, and I press a hand to my mouth, overcome with emotion.Caspian is silent beside me, his gaze fixed on the monitor. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, as if he’s struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “A girl,” he echoes. Then, with a soft laugh, he adds, “God help her if she inherits your stubbornness.”“Excuse me?” I glare at him, though the tears streaming down my face probably ruin the effect. “She’s going to be the perfect combination of both of us, thank you very much.”“Let’s hope she leans more toward your good looks than my temper.”“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit your ego,” I shoot back, though my voice is choked with laughter.Dr. William chuckles, stepping back to give us a moment. “I’ll print out some pictures for you two. T