Rick slammed the car door shut and climbed in on the other side. He didn’t even look at me as he buckled his seatbelt. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the headrest in front of him. I settled into my seat, breathing out slowly. The driver started the car and the city lights blurred outside.
The silence stretched like a rubber band about to snap. I shifted uncomfortably. My fingers twisted in my lap. I glanced at him. His eyes were hard, unmoving. I licked my lips and cleared my throat.
“Why were you so defensive back there?” I asked.
His head snapped toward me. His eyes narrowed slightly. His lips were pressed in a thin line. I watched as he raked a hand through his hair, the strands falling back messily across his forehead. He looked exhausted and furious at the same time.
He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not the one married and flirting with other men in hotel lobbies.”
I felt a flash of heat crawl up my neck. I turned fully toward him, my brows pulling together. “Excuse me?” I asked. My voice was sharper than I intended.
He finally met my eyes. His own were dark and unreadable, but I could see the storm raging in them. His mouth opened like he wanted to keep talking, then snapped shut again.
I clenched my hands into fists on my knees. “You’re the one dating another woman while being married. Don’t you think that’s a little ironic coming from you?”
His nostrils flared. His chest rose and fell a little faster. He turned away again, looking out the window. His fingers tapped once on the armrest. “I don’t do it in public,” he said, voice low but hard.
My stomach twisted. I felt my hands shaking as I spoke. “So it’s fine as long as it’s not done in public. Is that what you’re saying?” My voice rose a bit at the end.
He turned back to me slowly. His eyes pinned me in place. His brows were slightly arched like he was waiting for me to regret my words. I didn’t. He leaned in closer, the space between us thick with tension. I could see every tiny movement of the muscle in his jaw as he clenched it.
“Yes,” he said. His voice was quiet but there was no warmth in it. “As long as it’s not done in public, you know the image we are trying to maintain here.”
I exhaled shakily, tilting my head slightly to the side. “Good,” I said. I met his eyes dead–on. “Because 1 almost thought you were jealous.”
His expression didn’t change for a second. Then his lips curled, just a little, but it wasn’t a smile. His eyes were sharp like cut glass, unblinking. His tone was icy cold when he spoke, “Why would I be jealous?” he
asked.
“just making sure.” I said, looking away.
When we arrived home, we went our separate ways. No more words were exchanged. I climbed out of the car and went straight inside, making my way through the grand hallways, my heels clicking against the
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Chapter 18
marble floor.
The second I saw Lena, my chest cracked open.
She ran into my arms with a loud squeal. “Mommy!”
55 vouchers
I dropped to my knees, catching her mid–jump. My arms wrapped tight around her, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered into her curls.
“Me too! I told them I wanted pancakes and they gave me pancakes!”
I laughed softly, holding her even tighter. “Of course they did. You’re a princess.”
We spent the evening together, painting with her new art supplies, giggling under the blanket fort she insisted we build, and watching cartoons. It felt like home again, even if just for a few hours.
When I finally tucked her into bed, she was out like a light within minutes. I kissed her forehead, pulling the covers up to her chin.
*
The morning sun was already streaming into the hallway when I stepped out of the bedroom.
I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, my heels clicked softly on the polished floor as I moved toward the stairs.
I had given the house staff instructions on taking care of Lena.
I was halfway to the front door when a voice boomed behind me.
“Where are you headed?”
I froze. Rick’s father stood at the base of the stairs, one hand resting on the banister.
His eyes were sharp, tracking me with every step. His tailored suit looked too stiff for this early in the day. I turned slowly to face him.
“My restaurant,” I said. I lifted my chin, trying to keep my voice calm.
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing. His hands clenched at his sides. “You need to quit that job,” he said. His voice was louder now, echoing in the hallway. “The media is onto you. They’re watching everything, you think you can keep playing house in a kitchen when your face is in every gossip column?”
“What?!” I said, my voice cracked on the word. I looked between him and the door, heat crawling up my neck, “that’s ridiculous.”
He took another step forward, his shoes creaking against the marble. “You’re going to hire staff to handle your place from now on,” he said. His voice rose again, harsh and sharp, “You are not going to expose this family with your reckless stubbornness…”
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Chapter 18
“Enough.”
G
D
Rick’s voice was low but it rolled through the space, cold and final.
I turned and saw him standing at the top of the stairs.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hands at his sides, fingers loose but ready.
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His eyes were locked on his father as he descended the stairs, his expression was carved from stone.
When he reached the bottom, he stepped between me and his father, his broad shoulders blocking me completely.
“You will not speak to my wife that way,” Rick said. His voice was calm, but it carried a dangerous edge. His father’s eyes flicked over his son’s face. For a second, I saw it, a crack in his mask, a glimmer of fear.
Rick’s father shifted back half a step. His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.
Rick leaned forward slightly, his eyes like ice. His presence filled every inch of space between them.
“If you’re so worried,” Rick continued, his voice lower but even more lethal, “I will go with her but you will let her do this on her own terms.”
He turned then, and his eyes met mine. His hand came up, fingers brushing lightly against my cheek.
“I’ll be right by your side,” he said quietly. His thumb traced my cheekbone, slow and deliberate, “let’s go.”
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