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
It’s been several minutes since Mike and Mabel stormed out of the dining room, and the place has been quiet since. No one dares to speak. Everyone’s focused on their plates, quietly chewing away, even Uncle Bruno, who never misses a chance to crack a joke.I keep stealing glances at Caspian, who looks far too pleased with himself. His smugness is annoying. I can’t take it anymore.“Please excuse me,” I mumble, pushing my chair back. “I’ll be back in a moment.”I have no idea where I’m going, but I need to get out of here. Fast. The guest toilet catches my eye, and before I know it, I’m inside, slamming the door behind me. The moment I reach the sink, my stomach rebels. I throw up everything I just ate, the taste of Chef Douglas's fancy meal now sour in my mouth.Damn it. I always puke when I'm extra anxious.Wiping my mouth, I pause. I hear something. Voices—faint, but definitely voices. Where’s it coming from?The window. I step up onto the toilet seat, lifting myself higher so I can
We all stand there, eyes fixed on Mabel. The strangest part? She’s smiling—a warm, almost genuine smile. And after the way she acted earlier, it’s unexpected. Everyone’s curious about what she’s going to say.“First of all,” Mabel begins, “I’d like to apologize for acting… well, crazy.”Crazy? More like being a bitch, but fine, let’s call it whatever helps her sleep at night.“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” she continues, looking around the room. “I know now that I let my emotions take over, and for that, I’m sorry. This was meant to be a celebration, and I ruined it with my outburst. That was wrong.”She pauses for a moment, and it almost looks like she’s being genuine. But then her tone sharpens a little. “I was just trying to protect what’s mine. And that includes Mike. It’s hard watching someone you care about get hurt, especially by family. But I see now that holding onto grudges only makes things worse. I need to let go, and I’m ready to do that.”Oh, please. Whoever's liste
Caspian's POVI don't know why I do it. But whenever I'm alone with Desiree, I tend to lose control.This is me now, kissing her under the rain. Her lips are soft and warm against mine even as the cold water pelts us from above.“We should go inside,” she whispers into my ear as we break from the kiss.I nod. “We should.”But instead of stepping back, I bend down and scoop her up into my arms, lifting her off the ground.She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think you have any good intention, Caspian. The last time you carried me like this, I ended up in your bed.”“Where you belong,” I say with a grin, nudging the door open with my foot and carrying her over the threshold.I’m aware that we're leaving a wet trail on the floor. It doesn't matter anyway. There are more than enough staff available to clean that. They’ve probably had it easy while I was gone most of the time before Desiree and I got married. Now I’m home more often, and I’m sure they don’t mind a little extra work.Desiree wra
I’ve never felt more helpless, more completely under someone’s spell than I do right now. Every touch of Desiree’s fingers sends a shiver through me, making it impossible to think about anything but her. She’s so close that I can feel the warmth of her breath mixing with the heat in the room.“Caspian,” she says, “have you always been alone?”The question barely registers at first. How could it, when her hands are all over my chest, lightly brushing my skin and making me lose focus? She’s not just taking off my shirt; she’s setting me on fire with every touch. Her fingers move slowly, pushing my shirt off my shoulders in the most distracting way.It takes a moment for her words to sink in. “Alone?” I ask.She lets my shirt fall to the floor, not wasting time as she starts working on my belt. There’s something strange about this—the closeness, the rawness. “When I was stalking you,” she says, “I couldn’t find much about your love life. No girlfriends, no flings, no ex-wives. You were
Desiree's POVCaspian. One minute, he’s all over me, like I’m the only thing that matters. The next minute, he’s pulling back, shutting me out when I ask about his past. What is so difficult about talking about a woman who’s long gone from his life? Unless… unless she’s not yet gone. Maybe, twenty-five years later, he still loves her.It makes my stomach turn.I know our marriage isn’t built on love—at least, not the kind people dream about. But I have every right to be angry. I’m his wife. I deserve the truth.“Caspian, put me down,” I say.I just want to leave. Go to bed and forget this ever happened. Tomorrow, I’ll be fine. I always am. But Caspian doesn’t listen. He keeps walking toward the tub, holding me like I didn’t say a word.“Put me down,” I say again.“Never.”I let out a sigh. “Why are you so difficult?”He laughs, like it’s all a joke. “I’m difficult? You’re the one getting mad over something I don’t even understand.”Before I can argue, he lowers me into the hot water.
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