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,
Desiree's POV Well, I can't say I didn't expect this. In fact, I planned for it. I rehearsed the words I’d use, the calm expression I’d wear, the dignified way I’d respond when they came for me. But the thing about planning? It’s useless. No matter how much you prepare, things always spiral out of control. Right now, I just want to go home. Which is funny because this is my home. Why should I let some lying, cheating, backstabbing son of a bitch and his girlfriend raise their voices at me, in my house? The nerve of them, sitting at my table, acting like they’re the victims here. I take a deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest. Everyone’s staring at me—Mike, Mabel, Jessica, Caspian's mom, my family—waiting to see what I’ll do next. But I refuse to lose my cool. Not over this. Not over them. “Sit down, Mike,” I say, my voice sharp. “You’re ruining our dinner.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, like I’m the one who’s crossed the line. His jaw clenches, his h
Caspian's POVA few minutes later, the server returns with a bottle of tequila and several shot glasses, placing them in the middle of the table. "Yes!" Bruno cheers, grabbing the bottle with excitement. "Who's in?"Without waiting for a response, he starts pouring tequila into each shot glass, not caring if it spills a little. One by one, he puts a glass in front of everyone. Jessica looks excited, while Veronica just rolls her eyes. Mike, Mabel, and Mom sit there, not touching their drinks, clearly not in the mood.“Come on,” Bruno urges. “If we’re going to argue, we might as well have some fun with it. A little tequila never hurt, right? It’ll make things more interesting.”I pick up my shot glass and glance at Desiree. She hesitates but eventually picks up hers too.“To family,” I say, with a calm voice but a hint of sarcasm. “May we survive this dinner.”Bruno grins and raises his glass. “To survival!” He quickly downs the shot and slams the glass on the table.Jessica and Luke
Desiree's POV"Thank you all for listening," I say, as the clapping fades. "Uncle Bruno, you're up next."Caspian leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “That was hot. I never knew you were such an actress.”I smile, glancing sideways at him. “Oh, there are plenty of talents I haven’t unleashed on you yet.”He smiles. “I can’t wait.”As I turn my attention back to the table, I catch Helena’s eyes. For the first time since the drama started, she’s smiling. That distant look in her eyes is gone. It feels like a victory, however small. Maybe I’m finally winning her over. It’s like I’ve become one of those women who secretly want to impress their mother-in-law.Uncle Bruno clears his throat dramatically. “Well, I don’t have much to say, except that I’m still not over the fact you didn’t let me walk you down the aisle.” He gives me a playful glare. “But, since tequila is on the table, I suppose I’ll let it slide. For now.”Everyone laughs.“Here’s to more years of happiness, Dee Dee.” H
I try to dodge her attempts to smother me, but it’s impossible. She pulls me into a bone-crushing hug, and I swear I hear Caspian chuckling behind me.“Mom, you’re—” I can barely breathe. “You’re squeezing me.”“Oh, hush. You’re pregnant. You’re invincible now!” She pulls back, her hands gripping my arms as she stares at me like she’s just been handed the Holy Grail. “We have to celebrate.”“No,” I say. “No celebrations.”She ignores me, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll call your siblings, of course. And your aunt. And the cousins. Everyone has to know. Oh, we’ll have a big family dinner—”“We’re leaving for New York today,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “There’s no time for any of that.”She frowns, her face falling in a way that tugs at my heart. “But this is huge, Desiree. You’re having a baby! My grandchild!”“Which is precisely why I’m not ready for the entire family to descend on me like vultures,” I say, trying to keep my tone light but firm. “Mom, I love you, but no. We’re
Caspian tilts his head, pretending to think about it. “Technically, yes.”“Technically?!” I say, grabbing the sheet to cover myself even though he’s seen everything. “Oh my God. She’s going to know. She’s going to know! I’m going to have to move to another continent. Maybe Antarctica.”He chuckles, too relaxed for someone who’s just committed a cardinal sin. “I’m pretty sure you’re overreacting.”“No, I’m not!” I slap his chest, but he just grins, his hand reaching up to catch mine. “You don’t know her! She’ll bring this up every Thanksgiving for the rest of my life. My life, Caspian!”“She’s not going to bring it up,” he says, sitting up now. “And if she does, I’ll handle it. Relax.”“Relax?” I throw the sheet off dramatically and scramble off the bed. “I cannot relax! This is a disaster.”He watches me, amused, as I grab the first piece of clothing I can find—his shirt—and pull it over my head. It falls halfway to my knees, but it’ll have to do.“You’re adorable when you’re panickin
“Caspian!” I hiss, my hands flying to his shoulders. Before I can protest further, he captures my lips in a kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth as if he's trying to brand me as his own. "I can't get enough of you. You're mine," he says, the possessiveness in his tone making my heart race with excitement and fear. I shiver at the dark promise in his words, my body already slick with need for him. He pulls back to trail open-mouthed kisses down my neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking at my sensitive skin as he frantically works the buttons of my shirt—his shirt, actually—ripping it open to expose my lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. I moan and arch into his touch as his calloused hands palm my bare breasts, thumbs teasing my aching nipples. I can feel the wetness dripping from me, already anticipating the feel of him filling me. I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes, my body trembling with barely contained need. Once he's done undressing me, he takes a lustful look
“No, it’s not,” I say, though my voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “She knows what we did to get you pregnant, Desiree. She’s not going to be shocked by some creaky bed springs.” I smack his arm, my mortification complete. “Caspian!” He bursts out laughing, and despite my best efforts, I can’t help but smile. His laugh is infectious, the kind that makes it impossible to stay mad. Still, I cross my arms, glaring up at him. “You’re the worst.” “And yet, you married me.” “Poor decision-making on my part.” He reaches down, pulling me up from the floor with an ease that’s both annoying and impressive. Before I can protest, he’s dragged me onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he shifts us into some semblance of comfort. It’s a tight fit, but somehow it works—his body warm and solid against mine, the faint smell of his cologne grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. “This isn’t comfortable,” I grumble, even as I relax into him. “Sure it is,” he mu
“I’m trying to fix this!” I say, my voice rising. “You think I wanted to come back here? You think I wanted to face all this again? I’m doing this because it’s important—because it’s the right thing to do.”She laughs again, bitter and sharp. “The right thing. That’s rich.”“Mom, please,” I say, my voice breaking despite my best efforts. “I need you.”She softens, just a fraction, and for a moment, I think I’ve gotten through to her. But then she shakes her head, turning back to the stove.“I don’t know anything,” she says quietly. “Even if I did, I’m not getting involved.”“Why not?”“Because Elaine’s dangerous,” she says, her voice low. “You don’t know her like I do. She’ll ruin you if she thinks you’re a threat.”“She’s already ruining people,” I say. “And if we don’t stop her, she’ll just keep doing it.”Mom hesitates, her hand resting on the counter, her gaze distant. Finally, she sighs, the fight seeming to drain out of her. “What exactly do you need from me?”Relief floods thro
“Well,” Caspian says, leaning back in his chair. “That could’ve gone worse.”“Worse?” I glare at him. “She practically called us parasites.”“Technically, she only called you a parasite.”I grab a pillow from the couch and throw it at him. He catches it, laughing as he tosses it back.“This isn’t funny,” I say. “Now what?”“Now,” he says, standing and stretching, “we apologize to your mother. She doesn't seem too angry. I feel like a little touch here and there will crumble her resolve.”“How would you know? Did you see her face when she left?”“I’ve been doing business for years. It's called the ‘guilt-trip’ move. Just go over there and say sorry like the good daughter that you are.”I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”“Because deep down, you know I’m right.”I peek at him through my fingers. “I hate you.”He grins. “No, you don’t.”I leave the living room and head for the kitchen, where I’m certain Mom is.The kitchen is dimly lit, the only l
Caspian flashes her his most charming smile. “I think her headstrong nature is one of her best qualities.”Mom blinks, caught off guard for half a second before recovering. “Oh, how sweet. You really are a catch, aren’t you?”I down my glass of wine in one go.As the evening drags on, Caspian expertly steers the conversation toward Mabel’s family. It starts subtly—questions about old neighbors, mutual acquaintances—but my mother’s too sharp not to notice.“Why the sudden interest in Mabel’s mother?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.Caspian doesn’t miss a beat. “Just curious. Desiree mentioned her in passing, and I thought she sounded fascinating.”Mom leans back, swirling her wine like a villain in a soap opera. “Fascinating isn’t the word I’d use. Elaine’s always been… ambitious. But I wouldn’t put much stock in what she says. She’s not exactly the most reliable source.”“Why’s that?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.She gives me a pointed look. “Because she’s exactly
Desiree's POVI want to believe this plan will work. I really do. But I know my mom. She’s a professional shapeshifter, charming you one minute and gutting you with a smile the next. I hate that we’re resorting to her, but Caspian seems so sure of himself, so confident in this ridiculous idea that I’ve reluctantly let him take the lead.His hand is on the small of my back as he guides me toward his private jet, a gesture that feels more reassuring than I care to admit. The runway is lined with his security entourage, men in suits who move like shadows, their eyes scanning the horizon for threats that probably don’t exist. It’s all so… excessive.“You know,” I say, glancing up at him as we climb the stairs, “you could’ve just booked a commercial flight like normal people.”He smirks, not even breaking stride. “Normal people don’t have ex-strippers with billionaire husbands chasing after gossips of their scheming cousins. Or mothers with questionable boundaries. Besides, do you really w
Outside, the air is cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. Desiree leans against the railing of the porch, her hands gripping the wood tightly. “I can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and angry. “They’re useless.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, leaning beside her. “We just need to be patient.” “Patient?” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Caspian, we don’t have time for patience. Mabel’s a step ahead of us, and we’re sitting here making small talk with people who don’t even like me.” “They don’t have to like you,” I say. “They just have to slip up.” She shakes her head, her jaw clenched. “This was a mistake.” “No,” I say. “It wasn’t. We’ll find what we need. One way or another.” She doesn’t respond, just stares out into the distance, her expression unreadable. And as the wind rustles through the trees, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve already lost the battle before it’s even begun. # The drive home feels endless, the road stretching into the dark l