Desiree and I are back in our hotel room. She collapses onto the bed with a frustrated sigh, covering her eyes.“I guess our plans are ruined,” she says.“What plans?”She lowers her arm slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “We wanted to get her out of Mike's life. But she's still there, Caspian. We wanted to get her out of the company, and not only is she still there—she's now a board director. How did it get so out of hand?”I pace to the window, staring out at the view of the sea. “She’s blackmailing them,” I say.Desiree props herself up on her elbows, frowning. “I figured that much. So what are we going to do now?”Without replying, I pull out my phone and begin typing a message to Mike. He and I have unfinished business, and I won’t let him hide behind Mabel any longer. He’s got some explaining to do. ‘Meet me at the golf course in ten’, I write, then toss my phone back onto the nightstand.“I’ve already called my private investigator,” I say, turning back to Desiree. “Antonio w
I freeze, caught off guard. That was the last thing I expected."You want me to kick her out?" I ask, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.“Yes. That's the deal. You divorce her, just like you said you would.”I stare at him, trying to make sense of what he's saying. “You’re really going to use your ex-girlfriend as a bargaining chip, Mike? After everything she’s been through because of you?”He shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "It's not about her. It's about making sure you keep your word. If you're serious about getting rid of Mabel, I need to know you're not just playing games, keeping Desiree around for yourself."My anger flares, and I feel the heat rise in my chest. "I didn't raise you to be this petty," I say. "If this is your way of trying to manipulate me, you're walking a dangerous line."Mike’s expression doesn't change. He takes another slow puff of his cigar, the smoke curling up into the clear sky. “I'm just trying to protect myself, Dad. I can’t keep seeing he
Desiree's POVCaspian has been gone for a while now. I keep looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but all I see is the sea. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.When he finally returns, he slams the door shut behind him. His eyes are on me.“Caspian,” I say. “Are you alright?”He doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring at me, his gaze burning with something I can’t quite read. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he bends down, removes his left shoe, and flings it aside. Then he takes off the right one with the same slowness, flinging it aside too.Before I can ask what’s going on, he’s on me—his lips crashing into mine with a force that steals my breath. It’s wild, desperate, like he’s trying to pour everything he’s feeling into the kiss.“Oh, my god,” I gasp, pulling back for air. “What’s gotten into you? You’re like a wild animal.”“I want you,” he growls, voice low and rough. He sweeps his arm across the dresser, sending everything tumbling to the f
He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes darken as he stares up at the ceiling. For a second, I wonder if he’ll brush it off, deflect with some sarcastic comment, or change the subject altogether. But then he looks at me—really looks at me—and I can see the weight he's carrying.“I saw Mike,” he says. “We had a conversation. Things got... heated.”I frown, trying to piece it together. “About what?”“It’s complicated. But let’s just say, everything feels like a fight now. I’m fighting Mabel, I’m fighting Mike, I’m fighting for what’s mine. And when I came back here... all I wanted was you. To feel grounded. To remind myself what’s real.”I tilt my head, watching him closely. The strength he usually carries in his posture seems worn, weighed down by whatever confrontation he’s just come from. It makes my heart ache. “I’m here,” I say, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m always here.”He leans into my touch, his eyes softening for a brief moment. “I know,” he whispers. “That’s why I can’t
Our first stop is a little shop selling the most colorful handmade trinkets. I pick up a tiny ceramic donkey painted bright reds and yellows. “Look at this! It’s adorable!”Caspian raises an eyebrow. “That thing is hideous.”“What?” I clutch the donkey to my chest. “This donkey has more personality than you.”“Sure, if you’re into things that look like they’ve been cursed by an ancient Greek god,” he says. I roll my eyes and place the donkey back on the shelf. “You have no taste.”“Correction—I have impeccable taste. That’s why I married you.”I smirk, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck. “Flattery won’t save you.”We leave the shop, and Caspian leads us to a bustling open-air market, where vendors shout in Greek, offering everything from olives to handmade jewelry. We stop at a stall selling fresh seafood, and Caspian, with the confidence of someone who has no idea what he's doing, orders calamari in Greek. “Do you even know what you just asked for?” I ask, suppressing a g
My heart is beating fast. I lie frozen next to Caspian, staring wide-eyed at the chipped wall where the bullet hit. Before I can fully process the shock, I hear the screech of tires. I glance up, just in time to see a black-tinted car speeding off into the distance.“Caspian…” I breathe. “Who the hell just shot at us?”Caspian’s eyes are sharp and focused, scanning the area, his body still tense from the sudden danger. He doesn’t answer right away, too busy calculating, assessing. His face is like stone—determined, angry, but controlled.“Are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice low, brushing the hair from my face as he checks me for any sign of injury.“I’m fine,” I manage to say, though my hands are trembling. “But what the hell was that? Who’s after us?”He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze shifting to the road where the car vanished. “It could be anyone at this point,” he mutters under his breath. “Mabel. Someone else with a grudge. But whoever it was, they’re going to regret th
Caspian's POVIt's been two days since the attack, and even though we're back in New York, things still feel tense. My security team is on edge, guarding every inch of the house. But despite the extra protection, the weight of the situation hangs over us.Desiree paces by the window, arms crossed tightly. “Any word from Antonio yet?” she asks, sounding frustrated.I shake my head. “It usually takes time to investigate these things.”“Well, we don’t have time,” she says, turning to face me. “We’re practically chained to this house like prisoners.”She’s right. The apartment, usually a safe place, now feels more like a cage. Every noise outside, every shadow that moves, makes us both uneasy. I don’t blame her for wanting answers. I want them, too.As if on cue, my phone buzzes on the table. It’s Antonio.I answer quickly, putting the call on speaker so Desiree can hear. “What have you got for me?”“Boss,” Antonio says, “I’ve got some information about the hit-and-run. The other thing wi
I chase after her, heart pounding. I run into the bathroom just in time to see Desiree hunched over the toilet, her head buried as she pukes her guts out. The sound makes my stomach turn, but it's the sight of her—so fragile, so vulnerable—that really shakes me.“Cherry, are you okay?” I ask. I kneel beside her, one hand gently rubbing her back in circles.She waves a hand weakly, barely looking up. “Give me a minute,” she croaks, her voice hoarse and strained. “It’s just... something I ate.”But I don’t buy it. Not for a second.“Do you want me to call someone? A doctor?”“No, no,” she says, dragging herself up to the sink. She bends over and rinses her mouth. “I’m fine. Just... give me a second.”I stand there, watching, helpless as she splashes cold water on her face. Her breath is ragged, and every second feels like a lifetime.When she finally turns around to face me, her face is flushed, eyes watery, and she looks utterly drained. I can't take it anymore.“Fuck it,” I say, stan