Forever Yours by Delaila Adams - Read for Free, Listen for More – Your Romance Awaits!
Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for showing interest in my book Forever Yours through the lovely blog hosted by Panda Cozy Corner. I’m Delaila Adams, and I’m thrilled to have you join me on this journey!
Starting today, I will be posting one or two chapters of Forever Yours every day, right here on this blog. For those of you who enjoy audiobooks, I'm also working on a special treat—I'll be uploading the audiobook version on YouTube soon!
This entire reading experience is completely free, a special gift from me to you. And if fate allows, I’ll be more than happy to write even more stories for you in the future.
In the meantime, let me introduce you to the main characters, the prologue, and the first two chapters of Forever Yours. I can’t wait for you to meet them and dive into their world.
Thank you again for your support and for reading along with me!
Warmly,
Delaila Adams
Affiliate Disclosure: Some links on this page are sponsored, which means I may receive a small referral benefit at no additional cost to you if you choose to make a purchase.
Characters
Sorin Zaveri - Age: 25
Drea Miles - Age: 20
Liam Ford - Age: 30
Kaylee Matera - Age: 25
Prologue
Drea Miles pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the restaurant window, her breath forming a foggy halo around the edges. She stared outside, the bustling city beyond a welcome distraction from the hollow celebration behind her. It was her birthday, but she felt nothing.
Seventeen. A milestone, or so her parents claimed. They had whisked her to one of the city's most exclusive restaurants, parading the evening as a grand favor, as if an overpriced meal would fill the void she’d felt growing inside for years. But her interest in the evening was as absent as the connection she sought from them.
Her father sat across from her, engaged in yet another conversation with a business associate, while her mother nodded along, her smile as artificial as the flickering candlelight between them. They barely noticed her silence, or how she pushed her plate away, appetite lost in the sterile exchange of profit margins and stock portfolios.
Drea's gaze slid back to the world outside. At least out there, life was moving. Her chestnut brown hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders as she shifted, brushing it behind her ear absentmindedly. The city lights, the strangers walking past—each had a life, a story. And yet here she was, trapped in one that wasn’t even hers.
Her eyes, usually warm and bright, now felt as empty as she did. The weight of expectation pressed down on her shoulders like a shroud. She longed to leave, to run far away from the cold, gilded cage she called home. But where would she go? For all her parents' millions, she had nothing. No friends, no real freedom. Whatever she needed, she had to ask for—permission and approval always dangled like distant stars.
Once, she’d dreamed of a knight in shining armor, someone who would whisk her away from this suffocating existence. But dreams like that felt naïve now. Still, deep down, she held onto the belief that sometimes, just sometimes, you needed someone else to remind you that you were worth saving. Someone to show you that love, real love, was possible.
She blinked back the sting of tears, forcing herself to focus on the world beyond. And that’s when she saw him.
A man stood across the street, his broad frame silhouetted by the streetlights. He was dressed simply—faded jeans, a white T-shirt—but there was something about him that made her lean closer to the glass. He crouched down, his attention on two children in ragged clothes, their faces smudged with dirt.
Drea watched, her heart skipping as he smiled at them, pulling food from a worn bag and offering it with gentle hands. The children hesitated, but his warmth and kindness were undeniable. They took the food, eyes wide with gratitude. He ruffled their hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Drea smiled.
There was something magnetic about him, something that called to her in a way she couldn’t explain. She barely saw his face, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t his appearance that drew her in—it was the way he moved, the quiet compassion in his gestures.
Please, she thought, almost willing him to look her way.
As if he could hear her, the man ran a hand through his tousled hair and turned. Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met across the street. Her pulse quickened, and for the first time in years, her heart stirred with something that felt like hope.
Chapter One
My father was in debt.
Yes, he had been a millionaire. He was.
For the past few weeks, the house had been wrapped in a tense silence. My father and mother had spent their days locked away in his study, endlessly discussing the debts that had taken over our lives.
And me? As usual, I stayed in my room. I didn’t want to be part of any of it—not that they’d include me anyway.
My father had even stopped me from going to college. At twenty, I was still living with them, trapped in a place I desperately wanted to escape. I had hoped to finish college, find a job, and leave, but those plans had fallen apart just like everything else.
I wanted to leave because it was painfully clear—they didn’t like me. I was a burden. They never hesitated to remind me of that.
I was just... pathetic. A crybaby.
Tears came so easily to me, especially now that I had no one. No friends. No one to care.
A few years ago, I had Adrian. He had been my bodyguard, but he quickly became my first real friend. He understood me, made me smile. But then my father began to suspect something was going on between us. He thought we had some sort of secret relationship and fired Adrian on the spot. It didn’t matter that Adrian was ten years older and already married.
I’d begged my father to understand, but he didn’t care. I hadn’t seen Adrian since that day.
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Before Adrian left, he assured me it wasn’t my fault, but guilt still gnawed at me.
I sighed, burying my face into the pillow, wishing I could escape reality. Escape it all.
“Drea!” A voice called from downstairs. “Come down, right now!”
I groaned. What could they possibly want with me? Had they finally remembered they had a daughter?
Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and slowly made my way downstairs.
The once quiet living room was buzzing with activity, servants moving around like there was something to celebrate. A weird feeling gnawed at my stomach.
What was going on?
A servant told me my parents were waiting for me at the dining table. That was odd enough—my parents never invited me to join them for meals.
Suspicion gripped me as I entered the dining room. My parents sat across from each other at the table, which was covered in dishes.
My father gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sit. Have dinner.”
I sat, feeling uneasy as I folded my hands in my lap, my fingers twisting nervously. My mother passed me a plate filled with food.
“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to eat though my stomach twisted with nerves.
Dinner passed in tense silence, and as the last of the dishes were cleared, my father finally spoke. “We need to talk.”
I froze. Was this going to be another lecture about how much of a burden I was?
“Yes?” I said softly.
“You know about the company’s losses, the debts.”
I nodded.
“Well,” he continued, “today I had a meeting with a former CEO of a powerful company. He made me an offer.”
I leaned forward slightly, hoping this meant he’d found a way out of his financial mess. Maybe I could go back to college. I hadn’t felt this hopeful in weeks.
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Father’s gaze hardened. “He agreed to convince his son, the current CEO, to invest in our company—on one condition.”
“And?” I prompted, my heart pounding.
“You marry his son.”
My world tilted. “I’m sorry, what?”
My mother’s voice cut through the tension. “You’re getting married. It’s settled.”
“No!” I snapped. “You’re selling me off! This is insane.”
Father’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “You will do as I say. The deal is done. You’re getting married next week, and that’s final.”
I felt the weight of his words crush me, and tears prickled in my eyes.
“Please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Don’t do this. I’m only twenty. I have my whole life ahead of me.”
But my pleas were met with cold, indifferent faces.
“Drea,” my mother said sharply, “you should be grateful someone is willing to marry you. You’ll finally be useful to us.”
I wiped a tear away with the back of my hand, my chest tight with despair. “But... what about my studies?”
“You can ask your husband if you want to study,” my father snapped.
“I can’t let him decide whether I go to school!”
Father slammed his fist on the table. “Take your feminism elsewhere. It doesn’t work here.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. They were really going through with this. They were selling me off like a commodity.
“The family is coming tomorrow for dinner,” my mother added. “Dress properly. Don’t embarrass us.”
Before they could see me fall apart completely, I ran upstairs to my room.
This couldn’t be happening.
Tears streamed down my face as I sat on my bed. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. Was I really worth so little to them?
I had no money, no way out.
I couldn’t marry this stranger. I couldn’t marry anyone because... my heart already belonged to Sorin Zaveri.
He didn’t know I existed, but that didn’t matter. I loved him. He had a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop me. I couldn’t let go.
I collapsed onto the bed, my phone clutched in my hand, his picture on the screen. Sorin was the only bright spot in my life, the only reason I kept going.
But I knew—deep down—I could never have him.
The tears came harder, and I screamed into the pillow, my heart heavy with the realization that I was nothing more than a burden, and this would never change.
Chapter Two
My eyes were swollen and red, my skin blotchy from crying through the night. I looked a mess—inside and out. Hair tangled, body weak, every part of me worn down. I felt like a shadow of myself, barely holding on.
The warm bathwater lapped at my skin as I leaned against the porcelain, knees drawn tightly to my chest. I rested my chin on them, trying to find some semblance of peace. The world outside was a battlefield, and I wasn't ready to face it—not yet. If only I could stay submerged in this warmth forever, away from the cold truth that awaited me. My own parents—people meant to love me—had sold me off like some cheap commodity, all for the sake of their failing company.
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The thought brought a bitter smile to my lips. The irony of my name, Drea, meaning courage, had never felt heavier. Courage? I was the furthest thing from it.
A loud bang rattled the door. "Drea!" My mother's voice pierced the fragile calm I had built. "Do you think you can hide in there all day? Get out now!" Her fists pounded against the door like the war drums in my chest.
I flinched, retreating further into the tub. Tears welled up again, stubborn and unstoppable. I tried to swallow the sob that crawled its way up my throat, but it slipped through, muffled by my palm.
"You better be out here in two minutes!" she barked again before storming off.
I exhaled, shaky and hollow. Reluctantly, I stood, feeling the weight of the world settle on my shoulders. Drying off, I slipped into leggings and a T-shirt, not even bothering with my hair. I could feel the weight of her expectations before I even opened the bathroom door.
My mother was waiting for me in my bedroom, arms crossed, eyes brimming with disdain. She looked like me—her hair, her eyes, everything about her mirrored mine, except she was beautiful. Striking, even. Meanwhile, I was just... me. Plain. Forgettable.
"Pathetic," she spat, her gaze searing into me. "You're always crying. You look like a wreck. You ruin my mood just by being here."
Her words should have hurt, but I was numb. Numb to everything.
I kept my head down, waiting for her to get to the point. "We have guests arriving in a few hours—your future husband and his parents. Make yourself presentable. Be on your best behavior."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. She left, slamming the door behind her.
I glanced at the dress laid out on the bed. It was beautiful, something a girl like me would dream of wearing. But I couldn’t see myself in it. Not really. I sighed, fingers brushing the fabric. It didn’t matter what I wore. I wouldn’t feel like I belonged.
A maid helped me get ready, carefully applying makeup to mask the exhaustion etched into my skin. She worked silently, covering the dark circles under my eyes and brushing out my hair. It fell in loose waves over my shoulders when she was done. A version of me that felt more like a stranger stared back from the mirror.
I thanked her quietly, my heart pounding as I made my way downstairs. My father’s voice was loud and impatient, barking orders for me to hurry. My parents stood by the door, their faces plastered with forced smiles as we waited for the arrival of my future in-laws.
They arrived soon enough, an older couple who carried themselves with the kind of confidence that spoke of wealth and power. My parents rushed forward to greet them, but I stayed back, my hands fidgeting nervously behind me.
Their son, however, remained outside, engrossed in a phone call, his back turned to us. Even from behind, he radiated an air of authority, his posture sharp and deliberate.
Then my future father-in-law stepped closer to me, his gaze softening as he spoke. "You must be Drea," he said kindly, his smile genuine. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. How are you?"
"I’m fine, sir," I managed, forcing a smile in return. "How are you?"
His wife, Laura, joined him, beaming at me. "You're beautiful, Drea!" Her voice was warm, and it caught me off guard. No one had ever called me beautiful before. My cheeks flushed, unsure how to respond.
"Thank you," I stammered. "You’re beautiful too."
She chuckled. "Oh, no need for formalities, dear. You can just call me Laura."
I nodded, feeling out of place in this interaction. My eyes darted back to the doorway, searching for him. The son. Sorin.
I knew that name. Sorin Zaveri. My heart pounded in my chest. Could it really be him?
And then, like a scene from a dream, he stepped inside, and the air was knocked from my lungs.
It was him. The man I had idolized from afar. The man who had unknowingly been my lifeline, the reason I had survived so many dark days.
But he didn’t even glance my way.
Dressed in an all-black suit, he exuded confidence, every movement calculated. His expression was bored, his eyes barely acknowledging my parents as he gave them a curt nod. He exchanged a silent look with his mother before rolling his eyes in annoyance.
This couldn't be real. There was no way Sorin Zaveri, the man who already had a girlfriend, was here to marry me. I had to be dreaming.
But as the dinner progressed, reality sank in. I was seated next to him, my heart racing in my chest, his scent intoxicating. But he was distant. Cold.
At some point, I dropped my fork, my trembling fingers betraying me. Everyone’s eyes turned to me, but not his. Never his. I could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding my cheeks.
After dinner, Laura suggested I show Sorin around the house. My parents quickly agreed, and I found myself leading him outside to the garden.
The silence between us was thick with awkwardness. My mind raced for something—anything—to say. But before I could, his deep voice cut through the tension.
"How long have you lived here?"
I blinked, stunned that he was speaking to me. "Uh... forever, I guess," I stammered.
He hummed in response, his eyes scanning the garden. "This place seems familiar. Like I've been here before."
I had no idea what to say to that. Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"
His head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, he looked taken aback before his expression hardened. "How do you know about that?"
I swallowed hard, trying to cover my tracks. "I... I don’t know. I was just asking."
His jaw clenched. "No. I don't." The words were sharp, clipped, as if they pained him to say them.
Relief washed over me, though it felt tainted by the tension between us.
But as quickly as that relief came, it vanished. Because Sorin Zaveri was still miles out of reach. And no matter what happened next, I knew one thing for sure.
He would never be mine.
Chapter Three
How many times had I dreamed of this moment? How many nights had I imagined walking down the aisle, the love of my life waiting for me at the altar?
Everything was perfect. Almost everything. Except for the man standing at the end of that aisle, the man I was supposed to marry. The man whose eyes were filled with cold indifference instead of love. My heart ached, and I blinked back the tears threatening to spill, refusing to let them make a scene.
The ceremony was a blur, a haze of vows and traditions I barely registered. My thoughts were consumed with dread as I realized what awaited me — a home where I'd be alone with him, a man who clearly didn’t want me.
During the car ride back, Sorin sat as far away from me as the backseat allowed, his gaze fixed outside the window, his silence as heavy as the tension between us. I wanted to say something, anything to break the ice, but the fear of irritating him kept my lips sealed. I couldn’t help but glance at him, at his strong profile, every feature so painfully familiar from the countless times I'd admired him from afar.
“Quit staring. It's irritating.” His voice was icy, cutting through the silence like a blade. He cast me a brief glance, the look in his eyes sharper than his words.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my cheeks burning as I quickly looked away.
When we arrived at his house — no, his mansion — it felt like stepping into a dream, or rather, a nightmare. The place was as grand as one could imagine, but it held no warmth for me. It wasn’t a home; it was a gilded cage.
I followed him inside in silence, my stomach in knots as he led me to our bedroom. "Our" bedroom. I hadn’t expected that. Seeing the surprise on my face, he rolled his eyes and sighed. “My parents locked the other rooms. Apparently, they’re adamant that we sleep in the same one.”
Embarrassment washed over me. His parents clearly had hopes for this union that didn’t align with reality. He gestured towards the couch. “You’ll sleep there.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. As I approached the couch, I noticed a pillow and blanket already laid out, a silent but clear arrangement. I sank into the cushions, trying to make myself comfortable.
"Wait." His sudden command startled me. I turned, finding him pinching the bridge of his nose, visibly conflicted.
He sighed heavily. “Never mind.”
Confused, I resumed my place on the couch. But before I could relax, he spoke again. “No, wait.” He looked exasperated, as if warring with himself. “You can... share the bed. If you’re comfortable.”
I hesitated, my eyes drifting to the bed. It was large enough for both of us, but sharing it felt too intimate, too overwhelming. Still, the couch wasn’t exactly inviting either.
“Are you sure?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
Taking a deep breath, I got up and slowly made my way to the bed. He laid down on one side, and I settled on the other, making sure to keep as much distance as possible. My back was to him, and I prayed that sleep would come quickly, though I doubted it would.
Just as I was starting to relax, I heard the sound of pillows being moved. I glanced over my shoulder to see him placing a row of pillows between us.
“I hope you don’t kick in your sleep,” he muttered, his tone dry.
Heat rushed to my face. "I don’t think I do," I mumbled, though I wasn’t entirely sure.
The night passed in tense silence, but at some point, I must have drifted off. A sudden groan woke me, and I blinked groggily, trying to figure out what had happened. My heart sank when I realized that, in my sleep, I had somehow managed to kick Sorin in the chest.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I gasped, covering my mouth in horror.
He glared at me, jaw clenched, clearly in pain. He shoved my leg back over to my side of the bed and got up without a word, heading straight for the bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” I called out again, desperate for some form of forgiveness. “Does it hurt a lot?”
He ignored me, his face a mask of irritation as he disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. A tear slid down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing would.
I decided to make breakfast, hoping maybe it would soften the edges between us. By the time I finished, I heard him coming down the stairs, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit. He looked just as handsome as ever, but he walked past the kitchen without a glance in my direction.
“Um… breakfast?” I stammered, trying to gather the courage to speak.
He paused for a fraction of a second, then continued walking toward the front door. Without so much as a word, he left, slamming the door behind him.
I stared at the untouched plates in front of me, my heart sinking further. I sat down at the table and forced myself to eat, though every bite tasted like ash. The lump in my throat grew with each passing second as the reality of my situation settled in.
Sorin would never love me. I was nothing more than an inconvenience to him, a burden he’d been forced to bear. My heart longed for something, someone to care about me, but all I had was emptiness.
Tears welled up again, but this time, I didn’t bother to fight them back. No one would see. No one cared.
I just wanted to be loved.
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Chapter Four
With nothing but time on my hands, I wandered aimlessly around the house, hoping to find something, anything, to distract me from the emptiness I felt. The first floor was fairly ordinary: a cozy living room, a modern kitchen, and... a gym? It was a bit surprising to find picture frames hung in a gym, of all places.
Curious, I moved closer. One of the photos caught my eye. It was of Sorin as a child, maybe three years old, grinning widely at the camera. He wore a dark blue shirt and jeans, standing in what appeared to be a garden. His youthful innocence was heartwarming. But then I noticed someone else in the photo—a boy, maybe eight years old, with a gentle smile and soft blue eyes, his hand resting protectively on Sorin’s shoulder.
The resemblance between the two was striking. Was this Sorin’s brother? No, he never mentioned siblings. Perhaps a cousin? Whoever he was, they seemed close.
My eyes shifted to the next photo, and my stomach twisted. There was Sorin again, but this time, he wasn’t alone. Harlow Sullivan was by his side, her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed his cheek, both of them smiling, the Eiffel Tower in the background. They looked perfect together, like two puzzle pieces that fit effortlessly. As much as it stung to admit, they were meant for each other.
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I walked out of the gym, my chest feeling tighter with every step, a chill settling over me. The sense of loneliness was overwhelming, like a cold wind that kept pushing against me, driving out any remnants of warmth.
That evening, I decided to make dinner. Maybe, just maybe, if he came home, he’d sit down and share a meal with me. I wasn’t expecting much—just the hope that maybe he’d take pity on me. I wasn’t a terrible cook, and I certainly wouldn’t poison him, though I was sure he’d think otherwise.
As I set the table, my eyes flickered to the clock. It was already 10:30 pm. He hadn’t come home yet, and with every tick of the clock, my hope dwindled. By the time it was close to eleven, I realized it was pointless. He wasn’t coming back for dinner, and if he did, he’d have already eaten elsewhere.
I stared at the plate in front of me, the food going cold. Why did I keep doing this to myself? Why did I keep hoping? I took a bite of the chicken wing I’d made, tasting not just the flavor of the meal, but the saltiness of my own tears as they spilled down my cheeks.
I hated being this weak, this broken. I clenched my jaw, wiping my face furiously, determined to hold myself together. But the ache in my chest only deepened.
When the clock struck one in the morning, I was still awake, lying in bed, wondering where he was. Was he okay? Did he even think about coming home? Despite everything, I worried about him. No matter how much he despised me, I cared. He was the reason I was still breathing, no matter how messed up that sounded.
Sleep tugged at my eyelids, and as much as I fought it, I eventually lost the battle. When I woke the next morning, sunlight streaming through the window, I immediately turned to the other side of the bed. It was untouched. He never came home.
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Panic bubbled up inside me. Where had he been all night? Maybe he stayed at the office? Or maybe he crashed at a friend’s place? My thoughts ran wild. What if he’d been in an accident?
No, I couldn’t think like that. He was fine. He had to be.
The hardest part of loving someone who doesn’t love you back is the constant battle between wanting to tell them how much you care and knowing it won’t matter. But still, you want them to know—want them to realize that no matter how they treat you, someone out there cares enough to ask how their day was, if they had dinner, or if they’re okay.
Maybe one day I’ll tell him how I feel. But hope is a dangerous thing, and I had clung to it far too long.
I made breakfast, as I always did, knowing full well he wouldn’t touch it. But it was all I could do. I ate my portion in silence and left the rest for him, out of habit more than anything.
Then, I heard the front door creak open. My heart leapt, and I rushed out of the room, stopping at the top of the stairs. Sorin was finally home. But something was different.
He’d left in a suit, but now he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair messy. My eyes fell on the dark mark on his neck—a hickey, right where his neck met his shoulder. My stomach dropped.
So, that’s where he’d been. With her.
I stood frozen as he climbed the stairs, our eyes meeting for just a second before his face hardened, a scowl replacing whatever peace he’d felt moments ago. Without a word, he brushed past me, heading to his room.
The hurt hit me then. I’d been nothing but an afterthought to him, someone he couldn’t even stand to look at. It crushed me, knowing that I disgusted him so much that he couldn’t bear my presence.
Taking a deep breath, I fought back the tears that threatened to spill again. I followed him into the bedroom a few minutes later, my heart heavy. He was in the bathroom, the sound of the shower running. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling, trying to keep my composure.
When the bathroom door opened, he walked out with nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. My eyes dropped immediately, but that didn’t stop the heat that flushed through me.
Keeping my gaze on the floor, I quietly said, "Breakfast is ready."
His response was as cold as ice. "I didn’t ask you to make any."
It felt like a slap. I swallowed hard. "I know... but I did. And... it doesn’t taste that bad."
Suddenly, he was in front of me, his body towering over mine. I backed up instinctively, but the bed behind me stopped my retreat.
"Stop pretending to be my wife," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You’ll never be her."
I stammered, struggling to find words. "I’m not... I’m not trying to be... I just... I just wanted to do something decent."
For a second, I thought he would lash out. But instead, he stepped back, retreating into the closet without another word. The silence hung heavy in the room, my heart pounding in my chest.
I sat back down on the bed, shaky but oddly proud of myself. At least, for once, I had spoken up.
Chapter Five
Overwhelmed by my sudden rush of emotions, I hurried downstairs before he could leave the closet, trying to appear busy. I grabbed a cloth and began wiping the kitchen counter, even though it was spotless.
A minute passed, and I heard him come down the stairs. Keeping my back to him, I continued cleaning, hoping to avoid any interaction. Relief washed over me when I heard the front door open and close. He didn’t say anything.
I needed a job—something to save up for law school in Seattle. I remembered a café just down the street. Maybe it was time to venture out and try my luck there.
I pulled on a light purple sleeveless top with thin straps, paired it with my favorite jeans, and tied my hair into a high ponytail. Grabbing my phone, I stepped outside for the first time since I arrived.
The fresh air was a welcome change, and a gentle breeze tickled my skin as I walked down the street. The overcast sky mirrored my mood, but for a moment, I found comfort in the simple beauty of it all. Soon, I arrived at the café: Love & Coffee.
Suppressing the urge to judge the name, I took a deep breath and pushed the glass door open. The warm scent of coffee and pastries enveloped me, instantly soothing my nerves. The café’s simple elegance, with its white and brown décor, felt inviting.
The counter was busy, but I managed to squeeze into the line. When it was my turn, I approached the girl taking orders. “Excuse me,” I stammered, “I’m...looking for a part-time job. Could I...speak to the manager?”
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Her understanding smile eased my anxiety. “Hang on, I’ll get the owner for you.”
A minute later, she returned with a man following behind her. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with messy dark curls and striking green eyes. Dressed in black from head to toe, he wore a warm smile.
He led me to a table and gestured for me to sit. “So, you’re looking for a job?” His voice was friendly, his tone casual.
“Yes,” I replied, struggling to steady my nerves. “I really need one. I don’t have much experience, but I’m a fast learner and willing to do anything.”
A waiter appeared with two glasses of water, and he slid one toward me with a soft chuckle. “Relax. Drink some water first. You look nervous.”
Gratefully, I took a few sips. “My name’s Drea,” I added, barely louder than a whisper.
“Drea. That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented, making me blush. “I’m Atlas, the owner. We’re short on staff, so you’re in luck.”
My heart leaped. “Really? You’re not joking?”
He laughed again. “Not at all. You can start whenever you’re ready.”
I smiled, disbelief still lingering. “Can I start today?”
“Sure,” he said, standing up. “Let me show you around.”
Atlas patiently walked me through the café, teaching me how to operate the machines and showing me the ropes. His kindness and patience were a breath of fresh air. By the end of the day, I felt a strange sense of contentment. I was exhausted but grateful.
As the café prepared to close, I noticed it was pouring rain outside. I sighed, realizing I had no umbrella. The house wasn’t far, but I would get drenched.
“Need a hand?” a voice came from behind me. I turned to see Atlas holding an umbrella.
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“Um, I’ll manage,” I replied sheepishly.
“Nonsense,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ll walk you home. It’s no trouble.”
I hesitated. “I don’t want to burden you.”
“Drea,” he smiled gently, “I offered. It’s no burden.”
Reluctantly, I agreed, and we stepped out into the rain. Walking close under the small umbrella, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. My cheeks flushed at the proximity.
“Where do you live?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“Just down the street,” I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.
“And you?” I asked, suddenly curious.
“Same direction, but a bit further,” he said with a grin. “No need to apologize for the extra steps.”
We shared a quiet laugh, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at ease with someone. His presence was comforting.
When we reached the house, I stopped, feeling my cheeks heat up again. “Thank you, Atlas.”
He smiled warmly. “Anytime, Drea. See you tomorrow.”
As I stepped inside, still slightly damp, I wasn’t prepared to see Sorin sitting in the living room, his eyes locked on me. His suit jacket was tossed carelessly on the couch, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his toned chest. A glass of whiskey rested in his hand.
“Who was that?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm, but I could sense the underlying tension.
I froze, my heart pounding. “Just... a guy from the café. It was raining, and he offered to walk me home.”
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Sorin raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Don’t let strangers walk you home. Text me next time you’re going to be late.”
“I... I don’t have your number,” I stammered, trying to make sense of his sudden concern.
Without a word, he stood, walking toward me. My pulse raced as he stopped inches away. “Phone,” he said.
I fumbled for my phone, handing it to him. He dialed his number and handed it back. “There. Now you do.”
As he leaned in, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll ignore the fact you have my picture as your wallpaper. For now.”
My heart stopped. Oh, God.
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Chapter Six
As I handed over my phone, which wasn’t password protected, he glanced at the screen and his brows knitted in confusion. After a pause, he tapped in a number, and within seconds, his own phone rang in response.
Silently, he hung up and passed my phone back to me. "All set."
"Thanks," I murmured, trying to mask my nerves.
Then, without warning, he leaned in, his proximity making my breath catch. In a low, teasing voice, he said, "I'm choosing to ignore the fact that you have my picture as your wallpaper. For now."
Oh no.
"So," he continued, dragging the word out, "care to explain now, or should I give you time to come up with a better excuse?"
My mind went completely blank. What could I possibly say? That I've been hopelessly in love with him for the past three years? Yeah, that’d go over well.
Heat rushed to my face, my ears practically burning with embarrassment. I had the overwhelming urge to escape his penetrating gaze that seemed to see straight through me.
I shifted slightly, hoping to slip away, but he was quicker. His hands came up to either side of my head, pinning me between him and the door.
I held my breath as he leaned in even closer, tilting his head slightly. His gray eyes sparkled with amusement, locking onto mine in a way that made my pulse race.
When his face was inches from mine, my eyes fluttered closed, heart pounding wildly. His breath was warm on my lips.
No, he wouldn’t kiss me. He couldn’t. He had a girlfriend, after all.
As much as I wanted it, this wasn't how I imagined it happening.
His lips brushed mine—so faint, it was like a whisper of a touch. Then, just as quickly, he pulled back, leaving me breathless.
A sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Just as I thought," he muttered, but loud enough for me to hear. And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me frozen in place, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
I woke up early the next morning, filled with excitement for my shift at the café. Sorin, still sound asleep beside me, was facing the opposite way. Careful not to wake him, I quietly went about my morning routine.
He worked so hard, constantly pushing himself. I knew that, given my... tendency to keep tabs on him.
Once ready, I headed downstairs. But as I neared the bottom, I heard something—voices coming from the kitchen.
What the hell?
We were the only ones here... Weren’t we?
A flood of panic rushed through me. Should I wake Sorin? Or was I just imagining things?
I tiptoed toward the kitchen, heart in my throat. Then I saw her—someone was there. A woman. Cooking.
What kind of burglar breaks into a house to make breakfast?
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She wore a black sundress, humming softly as she moved. Before I could react, she turned, and our eyes locked.
My heart skipped a beat as recognition hit me. It was her.
"Hey, Drea," she greeted me casually, placing a plate of waffles on the table.
I blinked, speechless.
"I'm Harlow," she continued with a soft smile.
"Y-yeah... I know who you are," I stammered.
"I’m so glad we finally met," she said, stepping toward me, that same polite smile never faltering.
My mind was racing. What was happening? Why was she here?
"I can see you're a bit startled," Harlow said, her tone sympathetic. "Sorry about that. Sorin and I have keys to each other's places. I just thought I’d surprise him with breakfast before we head to work. And don't worry, I made some for you too."
I stood there, paralyzed, unable to form a coherent response.
Sensing my shock, her smile wavered. "Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down. Let me get you some water." Gently, she guided me to the table and placed a plate in front of me, vanilla waffles drizzled with chocolate syrup and topped with whipped cream.
I stared at it, too stunned to eat.
"It's not poisoned," she joked, laughing softly, as if the situation were normal.
"W-why are you doing this?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She sighed and took a bite of her own waffle. "I used to hate you, you know. When Sorin told me about your marriage, I was furious. But then, I realized it wasn't your fault. Neither of you wanted this. And... I couldn't keep hating someone who was as much a victim of this situation as I was. So, I wanted to meet you. Apologize, even."
"Oh," I breathed out, overwhelmed by her honesty. How would she react if she knew I was in love with her boyfriend?
"Please, forgive me, Drea," she continued, her voice soft. "I resented you for getting to marry Sorin, while I couldn’t. But now... I just want us to be friends."
I forced a smile, even as her words stung. "It’s okay... You don’t need to apologize. You’re his girlfriend, after all. I’m the outsider here."
"Don’t say that," she insisted. "You’re not unwanted. You’re my friend now."
How could I hate her when she was being so damn nice?
She nudged the plate toward me. "Come on, eat something. I promise, they’re not bad."
Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I took a bite. The waffle was delicious, almost melting in my mouth.
"They’re amazing," I admitted, nodding.
Her face lit up. "I’m so glad you like them."
Just then, Sorin came downstairs, fully dressed for work. His gaze flicked between us, clearly confused.
"Harlow?" he asked, surprised.
"Morning, babe," she chirped.
His brow furrowed. "What’s going on?"
"I told you I wanted to meet Drea," she replied matter-of-factly. "Since you didn’t make it happen, I took matters into my own hands. And I made breakfast."
"I’m running late," he muttered, clearly flustered.
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I know, that’s why I packed some for you. Let’s go."
Turning to me, she smiled. "It was great meeting you, Drea. I hope we can do this again soon."
I nodded stiffly. "Bye, Harlow."
Linking her arm with Sorin’s, they left the house together. My chest tightened as I watched them on the security footage. Harlow stopped by her car, pulling Sorin into a kiss, and he kissed her back without hesitation.
I closed my eyes, trying to remind myself of the truth. He was never mine. He never would be.
I wiped at my eyes, trying to hide the evidence of the tears I’d shed only moments ago.
The warm, inviting scent of the café greeted me as I made my way to the kitchen. Inside, Atlas was meticulously working on a latte, his concentration so intense it made me smile.
"Morning, Atlas," I called softly.
His head snapped up, and his face lit up. "Drea! You’re a bit late. I was starting to worry."
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling shy. "Sorry about that."
"Ah, don’t worry. You’re here now." He grinned. "How are you?"
His tone was playful, almost flirtatious, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly. It felt good—like maybe, just for a little while, I could forget the ache in my chest.
Later that afternoon, Atlas asked me to serve a family that had come in for a birthday celebration. As I carried water to their table, my focus was on not spilling a drop.
But then I heard a familiar voice, one I hadn’t heard in years.
"Drea?"
I looked up, and there he was, standing in front of me.
"Adrian?"
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Chapter Seven
The afternoon drifted into a quiet hum of activity as the café began to fill up. Atlas sent me out to serve water to the new arrivals, and I was so focused on not spilling a single drop that I didn’t even glance up at the table.
As I placed the glasses down, a voice broke through my concentration—one I hadn’t heard in years. "Drea?"
My heart stuttered. There, standing before me, was Adrian. After all these years. Alive. My throat tightened as emotion surged. "Adrian?"
Tears stung my eyes as we stared at each other, neither of us daring to move, still trying to grasp the reality that he was standing there, whole and unharmed.
“Drea!" He quickly stepped forward, gripping my hand as if afraid I might vanish. "I can't believe you're here!"
He was back. After three long years of wondering, worrying, and sleepless nights, he was really here. My mind raced with a thousand questions, emotions twisting inside me.
"You should be saying that to me! You disappeared without a word!" My voice wavered, an odd mix of anger, relief, and disbelief. "I didn't have your number, I didn't know if you were okay. I thought—"
He cut me off, guilt written all over his face. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I left without saying anything because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“Messed up?” I scoffed, hurt and frustration boiling over. "I lost my best friend, Adrian. I was alone!"
His head dropped, and he whispered, "I’m so sorry, Drea. I promise, I’m not going anywhere again."
The soft clearing of a throat interrupted us, and I realized we weren’t alone. A woman sat nearby, cradling a baby boy in her arms, and a little girl perched next to her, wide-eyed and curious. They all watched us with mild curiosity.
Adrian looked over and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oh, right. Drea, this is my wife, Darcy. And these are my kids—Isla and Josh.”
I blinked, trying to process the words. His wife? Kids? “Oh... hi,” I managed, giving them an awkward wave. Darcy smiled warmly, while Isla waved back with the enthusiasm only a child could muster.
“It’s Isla’s third birthday today,” Adrian added with a soft chuckle.
“Happy Birthday, Isla,” I said gently, though my mind was racing.
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Isla’s face lit up. “Thank you! Are you Aunt Drea? Daddy told us all about you!”
I shot Adrian a confused glance. Aunt Drea?
Adrian grinned. “Yes, Isla. This is Aunt Drea.”
Before I could react further, I heard Atlas calling me back to the kitchen, pulling me away from the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Adrian,” I said hurriedly, dashing back inside.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, with Adrian’s family lingering for Isla’s birthday cake. We exchanged polite smiles, but I knew we needed more time to really talk about everything that had happened. There was too much to say, too many questions I still had.
Hours later, after my shift had ended, I stepped out of the café and mentally kicked myself. I’d forgotten to get Adrian’s number. Again. How could I be so ridiculous? After all these years, I still hadn’t managed to ask for his contact details.
Just as I was internally scolding myself, I collided with someone outside.
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“Drea,” a familiar voice called out, and I looked up to see Adrian standing in front of me, his expression soft and warm. “I was just coming to see you.”
“Adrian?” I blinked, surprised. “I thought you left hours ago.”
He shrugged, that boyish smile of his spreading across his face. “I did. But I came back because we still have a lot to talk about.”
I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yeah, we do.”
“Want to take a walk?”
Without thinking, I agreed. We strolled through the streets, avoiding any route near my house. I didn’t want Sorin to know about this. Not yet.
“So…” Adrian’s voice cut through the silence, a teasing note in his tone. “You got married.”
I shot him a sideways glance. “How do you know?”
“Really? It was all over the news. Didn’t you see it?”
I fiddled with my fingers, nerves bubbling to the surface. “Oh…”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah. To Sorin Zaveri, no less. I was shocked but also happy for you. You’ve always loved him, Drea. Seems like your dream came true.”
His excitement was palpable, but his words only made my chest tighten. I couldn’t lie to him. Not after everything we’d been through.
I swallowed hard and stopped walking, staring down at my feet. “It’s not real, Adrian.”
His brow furrowed as he halted beside me. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just… a business deal,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the truth crash down. “My parents married me off to save their company. Sorin hates me.”
Adrian’s expression darkened, his hands balling into fists. “Drea…”
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I wiped at my eyes, fighting back the tears. “I’m okay, Adrian. I am. I’ve learned to deal with it.”
His jaw clenched. “If I’d been here, I would have taken you away. I wouldn’t have let this happen.”
I placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
After a long silence, Adrian offered to walk me home, but I declined. The last thing I needed was Sorin seeing us together and making assumptions.
When I finally reached the house, I tried to unlock the door, but the code wouldn’t work. Sorin had changed it. I knocked several times, but there was no response. Defeated, I sat down on the doorstep, scrolling through old photos of him. His smile in those pictures always made my heart ache.
Suddenly, his voice startled me. “What are you doing out here?”
I jumped, my phone slipping from my grasp. Sorin stood over me, his face unreadable as he bent to pick it up. He glanced at the screen, which displayed a picture of him, and his expression changed—though I couldn’t quite tell how.
Without a word, he handed my phone back. “Why didn’t you just come inside?”
“The door… it wouldn’t open,” I stammered.
Sorin frowned, stepping forward to test the lock. After a moment, he sighed in frustration. “Did you try using your fingerprint?”
I bit my lip, guilt written all over my face.
He sighed. “Unbelievable. Now we’re locked out.” He pulled out his phone, pacing away to make a call for help.
When he returned, he sat down beside me, though he made sure to keep some distance. The silence between us stretched on as we waited for someone to fix the lock, and I couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him.
I wished, just for once, he’d let me in—both literally and figuratively.
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Chapter Eight
"Where were you?" His voice cut through the silence.
Without meeting his gaze, I mumbled, "At...the cafe..."
He hummed softly, offering no further comment. Part of me was relieved, but another part ached to hear him speak, to have him direct his words toward me—without the anger or the coldness.
Guess we're not talking then...
I let out a quiet sigh as we both sat on the doorstep, waiting for someone to come and fix the lock. I could have pulled out my phone, but I was too embarrassed, knowing he'd caught me staring at his photo earlier.
He probably thinks I’m a total creep.
What must be running through his head? That I just sit around obsessing over his pictures like some lovesick fool?
I stole a glance at him, hoping I was subtle. His head rested back against the door, eyes closed, a faint crease between his brows. That jawline... I had to fight the urge to trace my finger along it. My gaze wandered lower to his throat, to the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple.
My thoughts were starting to spiral, my cheeks heating up. I shook my head quickly, trying to clear the wild ideas forming in my mind.
Suddenly, his head tilted toward me, one eye barely opening. "What?"
Why does this keep happening to me?!
"N-nothing," I stuttered.
He looked unimpressed. "You sure? You look like you want to say something."
I shook my head again. "No, I’m fine."
He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "You know... a picture lasts longer." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he sat up. "Oh wait—you’ve already got plenty of those, don’t you?"
My eyes widened, my face flushing crimson. "It’s not what you think! I—"
"I know exactly what it is," he cut me off, his tone flat. "Don’t bother making excuses."
Did he... know? Did he know how I felt?
Before I could say anything else, my stomach let out a loud growl, betraying the fact that I hadn’t eaten dinner.
Great timing.
I turned away quickly, pressing my hand to my stomach in hopes it wouldn't happen again.
"Did you skip dinner?"
"...Yeah."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why? Couldn’t you have eaten something at the cafe? What were you even doing there if you didn’t eat?"
"I was... planning to cook when I got home..." And there it was again, another growl from my stomach. Wonderful.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath. "Come on."
I blinked, confused. "What?"
He gestured toward his car parked outside. "I’m getting you something to eat. Let’s go."
Surprised, I got up slowly, following him toward his sleek black Aston Martin. The sight of the car alone made me pause in awe.
He unlocked the door and motioned for me to get in. I hesitated for a moment before sliding into the passenger seat. He shot me an annoyed look before starting the engine. "Seatbelt."
"Oh... right." My hands fumbled with the belt, nerves getting the better of me.
Noticing my struggle, he leaned over to help. I froze as he came closer, close enough that I could hear his soft, steady breathing. If I just leaned in a little more...
Stop it, I scolded myself.
He fastened the seatbelt for me, but instead of pulling away, he stayed there, his face inches from mine. One hand pressed against the window, the other resting on the headrest above me.
His gaze locked on mine, intense and unreadable. "Don’t even think about mentioning Kaylee to my parents. Understood?" Oh. He was talking about this morning.
"They seem to like you enough as it is," he added, his voice laced with irritation.
Like me? I wasn’t sure about that. They barely knew me—how could they like me?
When I didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed. "Got it?"
"I won’t," I whispered.
A faint smirk played at his lips as he leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear. "Good girl." His voice was low, husky, and it sent shivers through me.
Every nerve in my body lit up, and I felt the heat pooling inside me. Then, just as quickly as he’d moved in, he pulled away and started the car.
I sat there in stunned silence for the rest of the ride, trying to process what had just happened. Was he toying with me? Was he doing this on purpose?
"You want fast food or something more substantial?" His voice broke through my thoughts.
"Fast food," I answered, not wanting to spend too much of his money.
We ended up at a McDonald’s drive-thru, and I carefully placed my order, trying to keep it as simple and cheap as possible. When the food arrived, I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t ordered anything for himself.
"Are you... not going to eat?" I asked hesitantly, holding out the fries.
He glanced at the fries, then back at the road. "No."
I lowered the fries, feeling a little deflated. "What about a burger?"
"No."
"Are you not hungry?"
"I already ate," he replied, his voice cool and detached. Probably with her, I thought bitterly.
"Oh," I murmured and quietly ate my meal.
The next morning, I woke to the sight of Liam’s face—soft, peaceful in sleep. It was a rare moment. He usually slept with his back to me, but today, he was facing me.
My fingers itched to touch his cheek. I lifted my hand, just an inch away from his skin, before I stopped myself. What if he woke up and saw me? He’d think I was being creepy, taking advantage of him while he slept.
I sighed and quietly slipped out of bed to take a shower before heading downstairs to make breakfast. French toast topped with fresh berries, a picture-perfect meal. I snapped a photo, though I knew he wouldn’t even look at it.
Maybe someday, he’d care enough to try a bite.
The sound of his footsteps broke my thoughts. I plastered a small smile on my face as he walked past the kitchen, only to stop and turn back.
He scanned the plates of food before letting out a sigh. "You don’t need to make breakfast. I’ve told you that."
I dropped my gaze to the floor, my hands twisting together nervously. "I can’t help it."
"Fine. Do whatever you want." He turned to leave, but something in me couldn’t let him go just yet.
"Wait!" I blurted out.
He glanced over his shoulder, clearly impatient. "What?"
"I... I have a question."
He checked his watch. "Make it quick. I’m running late."
"Why didn’t you marry Kaylee?"
The question hung in the air between us. I didn’t even know why I’d asked. He wasn’t going to answer, was he?
But then, to my surprise, he spoke. "Our fathers were close friends. They started the company together. But despite everything my dad did for hers, he betrayed him. Almost drove us to bankruptcy. Dad had to rebuild from the ground up." He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression hard. "Kaylee’s father ruined everything. My dad never forgave him. And he believes the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."
I swallowed, understanding the weight of his words. "Oh... I see."
"Anything else?" he asked, clearly ready to leave.
I hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Why don’t you just divorce me? Then you can be with her."
His expression darkened. "My parents don’t like her. They like you."
My heart skipped a beat. "What if... what if I made them hate me? Then they’d let you go, right?"
His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. Instinctively, I backed up until I hit the kitchen counter. He caged me in with his arms, his breath warm against my ear. "Why would you do that?"
Because I’d do anything for your happiness, I thought, but the words stuck in my throat.
"I-I just..."
"You want to get rid of me that badly?" he whispered, his lips dangerously close to my skin.
"Don’t you?"
He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Feisty, aren’t you?"
Heat flooded my cheeks. "You... you’re going to be late," I managed to say.
"Right," he murmured, pulling back. But before he left, he leaned in one last time, his voice low and teasing in my ear. "I like your idea, though."
And with that, he was gone.
Chapter Nine
Weeks slipped by, both swiftly and yet agonizingly slow. Over a month had passed since we got married. Our conversations were minimal—every few days, I’d ask him something, and he’d respond with a curt answer. That was it.
I still made breakfast and dinner every day, though all he ever did was glance at the food, never touching it.
I’d see Adrian every few days at the café, and I even introduced him to Atlas. Surprisingly, they got along quite well.
I worked five days a week and wished I could pick up shifts on the weekends, but Sorin was usually home. I didn’t want him questioning why I wasn’t around, not that he seemed to care.
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But one thing I had noticed: on Fridays and Saturdays, Sorin never came home. It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was—likely spending those nights with Harlow, his girlfriend.
And I? I spent those nights consumed by loneliness, wondering what it must be like to share a night with someone who loves you. To cuddle, watch movies, kiss, and make love.
The emptiness hit me hard again. That aching need for affection, for love, returned.
Standing under the warm water of the shower, I hugged myself as tears silently mingled with the falling droplets.
What if I just filled the tub and slipped beneath the surface? Just a few minutes underwater, and it would all be over. I wouldn’t have to feel anymore.
I turned off the shower, walked over to the tub, and let the water run until it was nearly full. Staring down at my reflection, I saw a broken, pathetic face.
I was so tired. Tired of everything.
Without a second thought, I submerged my face under the water. The discomfort of not being able to breathe quickly overtook me, but my mind was blank, my heart numb.
The only thought I clung to was Sorin.
You’ll never see him again. You won’t be near him anymore, won’t hear his voice.
But he’ll be happier without you. They all will be.
Sorin. Think of him.
A few more seconds, and it will all be over.
Sorin.
He’ll marry Harlow and be happy. That’s all I ever wanted for him.
Sorin! At least tell him how you feel before it’s too late. Sorin!
And in a sudden rush of fear, I pulled my head out of the water, gasping, clutching at my throat as I collapsed on the floor, gulping in air.
It hurt—everything hurt. I wished someone would make it stop. Someone. Please, save me.
A sharp knock at the door jolted me. “Are you finished in there?”
Sorin. More tears welled up. What was I thinking? Killing myself? Giving up the chance to hear his voice, to see him?
I bit into my palm, trying to muffle the sobs. Another knock. “Hello? Are you alright? Did something happen?”
I cried harder.
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“If you don’t answer, I’m coming in. Twenty seconds.”
I wiped my eyes, trying to steady my voice. “I-I’m okay.”
Not even close.
I hurriedly dried off, threw on my pajamas, and let my hair fall forward to hide my tear-streaked face.
When I opened the door, Sorin was pacing, scrolling through his phone. His head snapped up when he saw me. I tried to move towards the bed, but he stepped in front of me.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
Reluctantly, I lifted my head, avoiding his gaze. His eyes scanned my face, brows knitting together in concern.
I saw him raise his hand, as if to touch me, but he stopped himself, clenching his fist before walking past me into the bathroom.
It hit me then—it was Saturday night. He usually wasn’t home on these nights.
Maybe Harlow had other plans.
But I didn’t have the energy to think about that. I didn’t want to think about anything. I felt numb, and for once, I was grateful. Before the numbness could fade, I crawled into bed, pulling the covers over me and drifting into a restless sleep.
I had hoped to wake up to Sorin’s face again, like that one time, but when I opened my eyes, he was gone. It was nearly noon. How had I slept so late? And why hadn’t he woken me up?
After getting dressed, I rushed downstairs, only to find the house empty. Where could he be? Maybe he was with Harlow, spending the day together.
But then, I heard laughter coming from the garden. I made my way to the back door, peeking through the glass. What I saw warmed my heart.
Sorin sat cross-legged on the grass, glasses perched on his nose, a book in his hands, and a smile that melted everything inside me.
Around him were a group of children, no older than ten, all sitting in rapt attention as he read to them. There was even a small blackboard beside him with "English Literature" written in bold letters.
He was teaching them.
Among the children, I noticed a pair of twins—the same ones I’d seen with him the day we first met.
The kids looked well-cared for, their clothes clean, their hair neat. Had Sorin bought them new outfits too?
I stood there, mesmerized, watching him be so gentle, so kind. The smile never left his face, and he patiently answered their questions.
I felt myself falling for him all over again.
Too lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice one of the kids pointing me out to Sorin until it was too late. He glanced my way, his smile fading.
Why did I always end up in awkward situations?
Frozen, I awkwardly waved, and to my surprise, Sorin bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh. His eyes sparkled with amusement.
Was he laughing at me?
He quickly diverted the children's attention, making them laugh as well. They all got up, following him towards the house.
As they passed, one little girl pointed at me, her voice not as quiet as she thought. “Is she your wife?”
Sorin’s cheeks flushed, and he quickly took her hand, leading her away. “Why don’t you all watch TV while I make pizza?” he suggested.
The kids eagerly agreed and dashed off, clearly familiar with the house.
I stood there, unsure of what to do. Sorin glanced at me briefly before walking towards the kitchen.
After a moment, I followed him.
Chapter Ten
The days had dragged by, blending into each other with a strange mix of speed and slowness. Over a month had passed since our wedding, and still, we barely exchanged words. Occasionally, I’d ask Sorin a question, and he'd respond with a curt answer before retreating back into his silence. That was the extent of our conversations.
I continued to make breakfast and dinner every day, yet he never touched the food—just glanced at it, indifferent. The only bright spots in my days were when Adrian would visit me at the café. Over time, he even met Atlas, and the two quickly became friends. I worked five days a week, sometimes wishing I could work weekends too, but with Sorin home on those days, I couldn’t risk raising his suspicions. Not that it mattered—he barely noticed me.
But one thing was clear: on Friday and Saturday nights, Sorin never came home. He was with her, with Harlow. His girlfriend. And I was left in the cold, alone with my thoughts, wondering what it must feel like to spend nights wrapped in love. Cuddling. Kissing. Just... being close.
That emptiness clawed at me again, reminding me of the affection I so desperately craved but could never have. Standing in the shower, the warm water couldn’t wash away the aching loneliness. Tears mixed with the water, streaming down my face. What if I just filled the bathtub and slipped under the water, letting it all fade away? The thought was tempting, the promise of an escape.
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I turned off the shower and let the tub fill. Staring into the water, I saw the reflection of a broken woman. When it was full, I hesitated for only a moment before submerging my head beneath the surface. The uncomfortable pressure of holding my breath hit me instantly, but I didn’t pull back. My mind was numb, my heart hollow.
Sorin flashed through my thoughts. I’d never see him again. He wouldn’t care. He would marry Harlow and be happy. They all would be—without me dragging them down.
Just a little longer, I told myself, and it would all be over. But then, amidst the darkness, there was a flicker of hope. Maybe one day he’d care. Maybe.
I gasped for air, pulling my head from the water, choking and clutching my throat. It hurt—everything hurt. I curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, begging for the pain to stop.
A knock at the door. "Are you done?"
Sorin’s voice. More tears fell. What was I even doing? Denying myself another chance to hear his voice, to see him one more time?
"Hello? Did you fall or something?" He knocked again, his voice uncertain. "If you don’t answer, I’m coming in."
I managed to quiet my sobs, biting the back of my hand to stifle the noise. "I-I’m okay..." My voice cracked, and I wasn’t sure if he believed me.
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When I finally opened the door, Sorin was pacing, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, his gaze scanning my face. "Look up," he said softly.
I couldn’t meet his eyes. He studied me, and for a moment, it seemed like he was about to touch my face, but then he stopped himself, clenched his fist, and walked away, disappearing into the bathroom.
Saturday night. Why was he even here? Shouldn’t he be with Harlow?
I didn’t want to think about it. I just felt numb, and for once, I was grateful for that feeling. I slipped into bed, letting the numbness lull me into a restless sleep.
The next morning, I woke up late—nearly noon. Sorin was gone. I hurried downstairs, the house eerily quiet. But then, I heard laughter coming from the garden. Peering out the sliding door, I saw him, sitting cross-legged on the ground, reading to a group of children. His smile, soft and genuine, lit up his face.
My heart swelled as I watched him, surrounded by the kids. He was teaching them. I noticed two twins, the same ones I’d seen with him before. They all looked so happy, so cared for. Sorin had bought them clothes, cleaned them up, and given them a safe place—even if just for a moment.
And just like that, I fell for him all over again.
Too wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice when one of the kids pointed at me, alerting Sorin. His gaze followed the child’s and landed on me. Embarrassed, I awkwardly waved.
He turned back to the kids, stifling a laugh, and I wished the ground would swallow me whole.
Later, as I stood there awkwardly, Sorin called to the kids. "Why don’t you watch TV while I make pizza?"
They eagerly agreed and ran off to the living room. I stood frozen, unsure of my place in this picture.
After a moment, I found him in the kitchen, kneading dough with his sleeves rolled up, focused on the task at hand. "Do you... need help?" I asked, hesitant.
Without looking up, he muttered, "No."
"I do know how to make pizza..." I offered, but he cut me off.
"I know. Watch the kids instead."
Reluctantly, I joined the children in the living room, but my mind was back in the kitchen. When the pizza was ready, they rushed to the table, eager to eat. I stayed back, unsure if there was any for me. As I turned to leave, Sorin’s voice stopped me.
"Do you like margarita or with toppings?"
My heart skipped. He made some for me too? I stammered, "I like both."
Without another word, he handed me a plate. "Don’t starve yourself," he said softly. "Eat."
And for the first time in a long while, I felt something other than emptiness. I felt seen.
Chapter Eleven
"Drea, finally! I’ve missed you!" Atlas exclaimed the second I stepped into the kitchen on Monday.
"It’s only been two days, Atlas," I chuckled, shaking my head at his usual flair for dramatics.
He handed me my apron with a playful smile. "Yeah, well, one day without you feels like an eternity."
I couldn’t help but blush at his words.
He grinned, clearly noticing the flush in my cheeks. "Oh wow, you’re too adorable for your own good."
I blushed even deeper. Did he… like me?
Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself.
Trying to shake off the sudden fluster, I turned my attention back to preparing an iced latte for a customer. But curiosity gnawed at me, and before I could stop myself, I asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
He popped the ‘p’ in a casual, "Nope."
"Why not? If you don’t mind me asking…"
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He shrugged, pulling out a fresh tray of cookies from the oven. "I’ve had a few, but things never worked out, even though they were all great girls."
I admired how he didn’t speak ill of his exes.
"What about you?" he asked, catching me off guard.
I stiffened. I wasn’t ready for him to know about my complicated situation with Sorin Zaveri. But I didn’t want to lie either.
"I’m… single," I finally mumbled, avoiding eye contact as I handed the latte to a server.
"Good to know," he muttered under his breath, though I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right.
The day flew by, and before I knew it, it was almost closing time. Atlas walked into the kitchen, glancing at the clock. "You should head home. It’s getting late, and we’re wrapping up here."
"Okay—" I started, but the doorbell chimed, signaling a last-minute customer.
Atlas gave me a sheepish smile. "Looks like we’ve got one more. Want to take their order?"
I nodded and walked out with my notepad, only to freeze when I recognized the man sitting by the window. Sorin. His glare could’ve sliced through glass.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he spat, making my stomach drop.
I fumbled, my pen slipping from my fingers as I met his furious gaze. He eyed my apron, his jaw tight with anger. Why is he here? A billionaire like him should be at some upscale cafe, not a small place like this.
"So, you’ve been working here the whole time?" he accused, his voice low and threatening.
"I never lied to you," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes.
"Didn’t you? You always said you were at the cafe, but never mentioned working as a waitress."
Why was he so upset? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe he didn’t want people to know I worked here, considering everyone knew I was his wife now.
Before I could respond, Atlas appeared beside me, his arm sliding around my shoulder protectively. "Everything okay, Drea?"
Sorin’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze flicked to Atlas’s hand on my shoulder.
"And who are you?" Sorin demanded, glaring at Atlas.
Atlas, completely unfazed, met his stare with calm confidence. "I’m the owner of this cafe. And you?"
Sorin’s jaw clenched. "I’m Sorin Zaveri."
Atlas didn’t flinch. "Well, Mr. Zaveri, you’re making my friend uncomfortable. I’d suggest toning it down a bit."
"Friend?" Sorin’s voice was ice. "She’s my wife. Get your hands off her."
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Wife? My mind spun. He’d told me before that I wasn’t really his wife, so why was he claiming me now?
"And as her friend," Atlas shot back, unfazed, "maybe you should treat your wife with more respect."
Tension crackled in the air as Sorin stepped closer, but before things could escalate, I placed a hand on Atlas’s arm. "It’s okay. I can handle this."
Atlas didn’t budge at first, but then sighed. "Fine, but if you need me, call."
I nodded, and without another word, followed Sorin out of the cafe. We walked in silence, the drizzle softly pattering on the umbrella he held.
I quickened my pace to keep up with him. "Where’s your car?"
"I walked," he replied curtly.
We continued in tense quiet until a passing car startled me, making me instinctively move closer to him. Sorin glanced down, switching sides so that he walked on the side closest to the road, shielding me.
That small gesture made something warm bloom inside me. I had the sudden urge to hug him, but I quickly squashed it down. This was not the time.
When we finally reached his house, he motioned me inside. I sat on the couch, nervously waiting while he changed. He returned moments later in a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, his eyes sharp as he sat across from me.
"Why didn’t you tell me about the cafe?" he asked, his tone neutral but firm.
"I didn’t think it mattered…"
"It matters," he said, folding his arms. "If I ask where you’ve been, I expect the truth."
"I didn’t think you’d care. You’ve always hated me working."
His jaw tightened, but he sighed. "I don’t like it, but you can work wherever you want. Just don’t lie to me again."
I blinked, surprised. "Really?"
He nodded, and for the first time in days, relief flooded through me.
"But why do you need to work?" he asked, leaning forward. "Is there something you need?"
I hesitated. "I… want to go back to school. I was studying law."
Sorin’s expression softened slightly. "You’re going back," he said firmly. "And don’t worry about the money."
I stared at him, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in him, feeling a flicker of hope for the first time in what felt like forever.
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Chapter Twelve
I couldn’t believe it—I was actually going back to college!
The thought of asking Sorin for money had made me anxious, but technically, I didn’t even have to. He offered it on his own. Still, after he told me I could go, he retreated to his study before I could even thank him properly.
The excitement was so overwhelming that I completely forgot about making dinner. But honestly, food was the last thing on my mind right now.
I felt like a child, hopping around the living room, clapping my hands in pure joy. The idea of returning to my studies filled me with an energy I hadn’t felt in years.
I rushed upstairs, rummaging through my things to check if my old law books were still there. To my relief, they were. Maybe I should start revising now, I thought, not wanting to waste any time.
So that’s exactly what I did—sprawled across my bed, I began flipping through the pages, trying to absorb everything I had learned during my time at law school. This time, I was determined to give it my all.
Hours passed without me realizing, and by the time I looked at the clock, it was way past my usual bedtime. I set the books aside and went through my nighttime routine, but as I crawled into bed, a thought lingered. Where was Sorin?
Was he still in his study... or had he gone to meet Harlow?
I tried to push the thought away. I should be grateful. Sorin had been kind lately—letting me go back to school and even supporting my job. That was something to appreciate.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep. But I wasn’t quite there yet when I heard Sorin enter the room. The moonlight spilling through the windows highlighted his disheveled hair, and I watched as he removed his glasses, placing them gently on the nightstand.
Then, in one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. I knew I should look away, but no matter how many times I had seen him like this, he still took my breath away.
This is where the jealousy crept in—Harlow got to see him like this all the time, maybe even touch him, while I could only admire him from afar.
Sorin tossed his shirt carelessly onto the floor and ran a hand through his hair. That’s when he caught me staring.
"Enjoying the view?" he asked with a raised brow, his smirk infuriatingly charming.
I wanted to disappear into the mattress. My face flushed as I rapidly shook my head.
"No?" he teased, stepping closer. "Not even a little?"
I swallowed hard, stammering out a weak, “S-sorry… I didn’t mean to—”
But before I could finish, Sorin was on the bed, hovering above me with his hands on either side of my head, his weight supported by his forearms.
My heart was racing, my breath coming in short gasps. I could barely think.
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"You really didn’t enjoy it?" he asked, his playful tone making it clear he was toying with me. "Should I take off my sweatpants too?"
What on earth was he doing to me? Against my better judgment, my head gave the tiniest nod.
Sorin’s eyes widened slightly. "Oh, you want it, huh?" His hand moved to the waistband of his sweatpants.
“No, no, no!” I blurted out, covering my face with my hands. “I-I didn’t mean—”
He chuckled softly, leaning closer until I felt his breath warm against my ear. "Relax," he whispered, before rolling off me and lying down with his back turned.
I exhaled shakily. That man was going to give me a heart attack one day.
I knew he had some idea about my feelings for him, and it was obvious he enjoyed teasing me about it. And while a part of me relished the attention, I also knew it was all in jest. His heart still belonged to Harlow, and he’d never crossed any lines, always keeping a respectful distance between us.
Once I had calmed down, I realized I hadn’t properly thanked him. But how should I go about it? Should I call his name, even though he didn’t like me doing that?
I hesitated, then gently prodded his side with my finger. "Sorin?" I murmured.
He responded without turning around. "Yes?"
"I... I just wanted to thank you."
Finally, he rolled over to face me, his expression unreadable. "For what?"
Was he serious? "For helping me go back to college. It’s something I’ve wanted for so long but couldn’t do. And now, because of you, I can."
He gave a simple nod, but his face seemed distant again. Cold.
Without another word, he turned his back to me, and my heart sank. Was he regretting his kindness?
"Good night," I whispered, though I wasn’t expecting a reply.
As I drifted toward sleep, I thought I faintly heard him murmur, “Goodnight, Drea.”
The next afternoon, I found myself being dragged to the mall by Adrian and his wife, Darcy. I’d tried to protest, but Adrian was having none of it.
“No excuses. You’re coming with us,” he’d said, his tone firm.
Darcy chimed in, "It’ll be fun, Drea!"
Adrian had even managed to convince Atlas to let me leave work early. No matter how hard I tried to wiggle out of it, they weren’t taking no for an answer.
The truth was, I hated shopping. It was exhausting, and I didn’t have the kind of money to shop in fancy places like this. There was no way I was letting Adrian buy me anything either.
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But while Darcy was busy trying on a dress, I tugged at Adrian’s arm, whispering, "Adrian, I didn’t bring any money."
He frowned. "Who said you’re paying for anything?"
I started to protest, but he cut me off. "Drea, I’m buying you whatever you want. Just point to it, and it’s yours."
"Are you serious? I can’t let you spend your money on me like that!"
He waved me off. "It’s not wasting money. We’re friends. Let me treat you."
"But it just doesn’t feel right..."
He softened his tone. "Drea, you’re like my little sister. Let me spoil you."
Before I could argue further, Darcy returned, modeling her new dress, and the conversation ended. But my heart warmed at Adrian’s words. Maybe I had found a family after all.
As we left the mall, Adrian drove me back to Sorin’s place.
"So... is Sorin treating you okay?" Adrian asked, glancing at me with concern.
I hesitated. "He used to be distant. Barely talked to me. But lately, he’s been... different. He listens, he’s kind. And he’s even paying for my college fees."
Adrian looked at me, a hint of frustration in his eyes. "You should have told me sooner. I could’ve helped."
I smiled softly. "It’s okay, Adrian. What matters is I’m going back to school."
His expression softened. "I’m glad to see you smiling again."
I chuckled. "You’re too good to me, Adrian."
We pulled up to Sorin’s house, and before I could open the door, it swung open. There stood Sorin, his jaw clenched and eyes locked on Adrian.
"Adrian Grant," Sorin growled. "Get the hell out of my house."
Chapter Thirteen
I stepped out of the car, and Liam followed right behind me, trailing me all the way to the front door. I wasn’t sure why, though—I could definitely manage getting inside on my own.
Before I could even reach for the handle, the door swung open, revealing Sorin standing there. His arms crossed, his jaw tight, and a deadly glare fixed not on me, but on Liam.
Liam smirked, the kind of smile that was meant to provoke. “Long time no see, Sorin.”
Sorin blinked, clearly shocked to find Liam in front of him. His eyes narrowed as he spat, “Liam Ford. Get the hell out of my house.”
Wait… what?
“You two know each other?” I asked, baffled.
“Come inside,” Sorin directed me, ignoring my question.
Just as I was about to step in, Liam’s arm snaked around my shoulder, pulling me closer. “We just got back from shopping, didn’t we, Kaylee?”
“Uh…” I glanced between them, feeling Sorin’s eyes drift down to the shopping bags I carried.
“So, you crawl out from wherever you've been hiding just to take my wife on a shopping trip?” Sorin’s voice was low, dangerous.
This was starting to feel eerily familiar—almost like yesterday’s encounter with Atlas.
Liam shrugged casually. “Well, when a husband can’t keep up, someone’s gotta step in.”
I gaped at Liam. Was he trying to provoke Sorin?
Sorin’s body tensed, his hands shaking with barely restrained anger. “How the hell do you know her?” he hissed.
“I’m her best friend,” Liam said proudly.
Best friend? Sure, Liam and I were close, but I had never thought of him that way. Yet… hearing him say it, it didn’t sound so bad.
“Stay away from her,” Sorin growled through clenched teeth. “All you know how to do is run away when things get tough.”
That must’ve hit hard, judging by the way Liam’s smile faded.
“I know how to make things right,” Liam said quietly, a hint of seriousness replacing his usual cocky demeanor.
“Oh really?” Sorin shot back. “Didn’t seem like you were interested in that for the past nineteen years.”
Nineteen years?! What on earth was happening?
I looked up at Liam, my voice barely a whisper. “What is going on? Please, just tell me.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kaylee. Your husband just can’t let go of the past.”
Past? What was he talking about?
“Like I said, stay away from her.” Sorin grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him, his touch burning into my skin. It was the first time we’d ever made physical contact, and it sent an unexpected jolt through me.
Liam’s easy demeanor vanished as he stepped forward, clearly ready for a fight. “Or what?” he challenged.
Sorin let go of my hand and balled his fists. “You’re welcome to find out.”
Liam clenched his fists too, and I knew this was about to get ugly. I had seen Liam in action, and I knew how strong he was. But the last thing I wanted was for either of them to get hurt.
Before Liam could throw a punch, I grabbed his arm, my voice desperate. “Please, Liam, don’t.”
Liam looked down at me, his expression wounded. “So, you love him more now?”
My heart stopped. “I-I…”
Sorin yanked me back, cutting in, “Love? She doesn’t love you!”
“Oh, she does,” Liam countered with a wink. “Don’t you, Kaylee?”
“She doesn’t, you idiot,” Sorin growled. “And besides, you have a wife.”
Without missing a beat, Liam replied, “Who says I can’t have two?”
Sorin’s anger flared again. “Get the hell out of my house. Now!”
Liam grinned, not taking the situation seriously at all. “Fine. This place is an eyesore anyway.”
I turned to Liam, my voice soft. “Goodbye, Liam…”
He smiled warmly at me. “See you tomorrow, Kaylee.” Then he finally walked away, leaving me standing there with Sorin, who was still fuming but looked… sad, too.
Once Liam was gone, Sorin blinked and turned his gaze to me, catching me staring at him. His expression softened just a little.
“Were you two… friends?” I asked cautiously.
He sighed, his voice heavy. “We were.”
“What happened?”
“You should get some rest. It’s late,” he dismissed me, walking off towards his study.
I would have to get answers from Liam later.
—
It turned out, though, getting answers from Liam wasn’t any easier. He dodged every question I threw at him, sipping on his iced latte like nothing was wrong.
“Adrian, seriously,” I pressed, “what happened between you and Sorin?”
With the straw still in his mouth, he mumbled, “That’s a long story.”
“Was it your fault or Sorin’s?”
“Mine,” he answered without hesitation. “I cut him out of my life, and he’s never forgiven me for it.”
“Why? What happened?”
He stared off into the distance. “Something…”
Clearly, he wasn’t going to tell me more.
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—
Later that night, after Liam dropped me off, I found the house empty. Sorin wasn’t home yet, so I started preparing dinner—spaghetti in white sauce, hoping once again that he might eat something I made.
By the time Sorin finally walked in, he looked completely exhausted, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He sat on the couch, resting his head back and covering his eyes with his forearm.
I hesitated, then stepped closer. “Are you… okay?”
He didn’t move but hummed softly. Not exactly reassuring.
“Would you like some dinner?”
He surprised me by asking, “What did you make?”
I almost dropped the plate in shock. “S-spaghetti. In white sauce.”
“Can you bring it here?”
I rushed to the kitchen, bringing him the plate, my heart pounding in disbelief. He accepted it without a word, quietly eating while I watched him from a distance, too stunned to speak.
For the first time, he ate what I made. And, before long, he even complimented me.
“It was good,” he said softly, leaning back, closing his eyes again.
My heart swelled, and I knew… even though he couldn’t love me back, I would always care for him.
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Chapter Fourteen
✨Sorin's POV✨
She's turning my world upside down—quickly and relentlessly. I’m terrified that I won’t be able to resist this fire burning inside me for much longer.
When my father forced me into this marriage, my hatred for her was intense. But soon, I realized she had no choice either, even though I found her frustrating. I couldn’t stand her presence.
I love Harlow. We grew up together, our relationship started in high school. But then, her father betrayed mine, and things took a dark turn. We had to hide our love because my father forbade me from seeing her. I love my father, and though he tried to separate us, I understand why after everything he went through.
Then Drea came into my life. She started cooking for me, caring for me, even though I treated her like nothing. It infuriated me. She should hate me, but instead, she was gentle, considerate.
Soon, I pieced it together—she has feelings for me, maybe even loves me. And I enjoy teasing her because of it, watching her cheeks flush red and her nerves flare. I shouldn't, but I do.
When she suggested pretending to be the "bad wife" so I could divorce her and marry Harlow, it hit me like a punch to the gut. Here was a woman willing to sacrifice her happiness for mine. Even though she loves me, she wanted to step aside for Harlow.
If that isn’t love, then what is?
Her words softened something in me. I couldn’t keep pushing her away anymore.
Then there’s that café owner. He thinks he can flirt with her, sweep her off her feet while she’s still married? How can she not see he’s into her? But it’s her life. She can do what she wants, even if it frustrates me.
And Adrian? After disappearing for 19 years, he suddenly returns, thinking he can take my wife shopping? Doesn’t he have his own wife?
Why can’t they all just stay away from her?
I feel this overwhelming need to protect her. From the world. From myself. She’s so innocent it kills me. There’s this dark part of me that wants to ruin her—completely. To destroy her innocence. But I bury those thoughts because if I ever let them surface, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days.
A touch on my hand snaps me back to reality. I’m sitting in a restaurant, Harlow across from me.
This is wrong. So wrong. I’m still with Harlow, but my thoughts are tangled up with Drea. Even though I’m married to Drea, I feel like I’m cheating on Harlow. It’s all a disaster.
"Sorin? Why aren’t you eating? Is something wrong?" Harlow’s voice breaks through.
I clear my throat. "No. Everything’s fine." It’s not.
I glance at the steak on my plate. I wonder what Drea made for dinner tonight. If I eat this, I won’t be able to eat whatever she cooked—and she’ll be hurt.
"I’m not really hungry," I say, pushing the plate away.
"Are you sure you’re okay? You had a fever yesterday. Could it still be lingering?"
"I’m fine." I think back to how my wife took care of me last night.
Damn it! Stop thinking about her!
Harlow gave me a worried glance but nodded and resumed eating. Don’t get me wrong—Harlow is a great woman. She’s kind, honest, and genuinely cares about me. But lately, something’s been shifting inside me, and I can’t stop questioning it. When you love someone, it’s supposed to last forever, right? So why am I starting to doubt if I still love her?
I didn’t have an answer. Not yet.
After dinner, I paid the bill and drove Harlow home.
“Goodnight, babe,” she whispered, cupping my face and pressing her lips against mine. Once upon a time, her kiss would’ve set me on fire. But now? Nothing. I couldn’t even kiss her back. I just... couldn’t.
“Goodnight,” I muttered as she pulled away, hurt flashing in her eyes. She noticed my distance. Nodding quietly, she slipped out of the car. I waited until she was safely inside before I drove away.
On my way back, I spotted her—Drea—walking down the street, lost in her own world.
I slowed the car and rolled down the window. “Get in.”
The way she looked at me, like she was scared of what I might do or say, pissed me off. And I had no one to blame but myself for putting that fear in her eyes.
When she sat beside me, a strange calmness washed over me.
“You didn’t make dinner, did you?” I asked, knowing she hadn’t.
“I... I was going to.”
“You want to order something?”
She shook her head. “I’d prefer to cook.”
“Steak, then?” I suggested. “You know how to make it?”
She nodded, her voice barely audible. “Yes, I’ll make steak.”
The way she always complies. God, it drives me insane.
At home, I let her get busy in the kitchen while I changed into something comfortable. When I walked back into the kitchen, she was fully focused on the task in front of her, unaware of my presence. Her hair was in a messy bun, a few strands escaping.
Without a sound, I stood behind her, placing my hands on the counter on either side of her, trapping her between me and the counter. She gasped, clearly startled.
I leaned in, my lips near her ear. “Need any help?” I whispered, making sure my voice was low and deep.
“N-n-no,” she stammered, flustered.
I smirked and pulled back, leaving her space to breathe. I knew how nervous I made her, so I left the kitchen before my temptation got the better of me.
Later, we ate in silence and headed to bed. As I sat on the bed, reading emails, the bathroom door opened, and my phone slipped from my hand.
She stepped out—wearing a black nightgown. It was the first time I’d seen her in anything other than simple clothes. The way the gown clung to her curves, the smooth skin of her legs, the backless design revealing more than I was ready for—my breath caught in my throat.
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She seemed shy, wrapping her arms around herself as she quickly slipped under the duvet, turning her back to me. But the duvet didn’t cover everything, and I had a perfect view of her bare back.
I let out a frustrated groan, trying to control the flood of thoughts racing through my mind. Images of her tied to the bed, blindfolded, completely at my mercy flooded my senses. I grabbed a pillow and placed it over my lap. Get a grip, Sorin.
For the next few minutes, I tried focusing on my phone, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. That’s it. I needed a cold shower. Now.
Hours later, in the middle of the night, I heard soft sniffling. Turning over, I realized Drea was trembling, her back still to me. Was she... crying?
I sat up immediately. Did I say something to hurt her? I ran through the day in my mind, but nothing came to mind. If someone else hurt her... that café owner maybe? He’s dead.
I couldn’t just lie there and do nothing.
“Drea?” I called out softly. Her body tensed, but she didn’t turn around. “Drea, what’s wrong?”
Her voice cracked as she replied, “I-I’m sorry... for disturbing your sleep.”
“Seriously? You’re worried about that? I was already awake. Now tell me, what’s wrong?”
“I-I’m fine...”
“Like hell you are. Look at me.”
After a moment, she slowly turned, her tear-streaked face nearly broke me. Her eyes were red, and her lip trembled. I couldn’t bear it.
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I leaned in and cupped her cheek. “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I?”
She tried to shake her head, but I held her gaze. “Don’t lie. I know I’ve hurt you, more times than I can count. But did I say something today?”
“N-no,” she whispered.
“Did someone else say something?”
At that, fresh tears streamed down her face. “My parents,” she choked out.
I clenched my jaw. I knew they were horrible, but still... Who does that to their own child?
“You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’m here,” I said gently, wiping her tears away.
She sobbed harder, and through the tears, she made a small request. “Can you... hug me? Please. I just want to know what it feels like... to be held. Just for a little while.”
Her words shattered me.
“Come here,” I whispered, opening my arms. She wiped her face and hesitantly moved closer. Laying her head on my chest, her trembling hand rested on my heart, and I wrapped her tightly in my arms, stroking her hair.
She was stiff at first, but then, she broke down completely, her sobs shaking her whole body. I held her closer, pressing a kiss into her hair as my own tears fell.
“Shh... it’s going to be okay,” I whispered, wishing I could take away all her pain.
As the minutes passed, her cries subsided, and she slowly drifted off to sleep. I watched her, heart aching, as she whispered my name.
“Yes, mi amor?” I responded softly, though she wasn’t fully awake.
“I love you,” she mumbled in her sleep, and my heart skipped a beat.
I smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll protect you, Drea. Even if it means protecting you from myself.”
Chapter Fifteen
The sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, and I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. My body instinctively reached for the warmth that had cradled me the night before, but the bed was empty.
My eyes fluttered open. Sorin was gone.
Flashes of last night hit me. I’d been a mess, crying for reasons I couldn’t even explain. And I had asked him—no, begged him—to hold me.
Did I really do that?
But he had. He had wrapped me in his arms, shielding me from whatever was eating me up inside. I could still feel it, the protective embrace, the quiet assurance. It had been my first real taste of comfort—of care.
The kind of warmth that stays with you.
Wait. I asked him to hold me for just a moment, but I clung to him for who knows how long. I’d even fallen asleep in his arms!
Panic shot through me. Was he upset? I must’ve ruined his night.
Instantly awake, I bolted upright, my mind racing through all the possible reasons why he’d left. Maybe he couldn’t take it anymore. Just when things between us were getting better, I had to mess it up.
Before I could spiral further, the door creaked open. Sorin stood there, fully dressed for work but without his jacket, leaning casually against the frame, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“You’re up,” he said with a relaxed tone, “I was just about to wake you.”
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“Oh…” I whispered, unsure of what to say.
He didn’t look angry. If anything, he seemed... calm.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, clearly referring to my emotional breakdown the night before.
“Okay,” I mumbled, still mortified by the memory.
He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting down from my face to my shoulder. Confused, I glanced down and realized the strap of my nightgown had slipped down my arm. The same nightgown that Darcy had convinced me to wear—one I’d never have chosen for myself. It barely covered anything.
His eyes darkened, just like they had last night when he first saw me in it.
Sorin moved from the door, closing the distance between us. He gently hooked his finger under the strap and slid it back up onto my shoulder.
Why was my heart racing? Why was my skin burning under his touch?
His eyes locked on mine. “You should get ready. Your classes start in two hours.”
“C-classes?” I stammered, jolted out of my daze.
He leaned back, his lips quirking. “Yeah, college. You said you wanted to go back, remember? I arranged your re-enrollment.”
“But... you didn’t tell me it was starting today!” I wasn’t ready for this.
His smile turned a bit sheepish. “I might’ve forgotten to mention that. You still have time to get ready though.”
My jaw dropped. “But I didn’t even pick out anything to wear!”
Without missing a beat, he placed a finger under my chin and gently closed my mouth. “You’ll be fine. I’ll drop you off.”
I scrambled to the bathroom, showered, brushed my teeth, and threw on a pair of black jeans and a cropped halter top. After tossing my hair into a messy bun and stuffing my bag with essentials, I hurried downstairs, nearly tripping on the last step.
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“Careful,” Sorin’s voice called out as he stepped out of the kitchen.
“Am I late?” I asked breathlessly.
He checked his watch. “No, you’re good. Come have breakfast.”
I followed him into the kitchen, surprised to see two plates of perfectly made cheese omelets on the table.
“You made this?” I asked, astonished.
“Of course.” He sat across from me. “If you want something else, just let me know.”
“No, this looks... amazing.” I tried not to blush at how flustered I sounded.
He grinned, the kind of smile that could stop hearts. I bit my lip to stop myself from grinning back and focused on the omelet. It tasted just as good as it looked.
When we finished, he took the plates to the sink before turning to me. “Got everything?”
I nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my bag and carrying it to the car.
The drive to college was quiet, tension thick in the air. I was nervous—returning to school after months—and Sorin, my husband, was acting like it was the most normal thing in the world to drop me off. He’d been unusually sweet lately, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
When we arrived, he parked the car and handed me my bag. “Do you have any friends here?”
I shook my head. “No one really... likes me.”
He cupped my cheek, his touch so gentle. “Then give them a reason to. Just be yourself, okay?”
I bit my lip and nodded, but the intensity in his gaze lingered on my lips before returning to my eyes.
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“And stay away from the... overly friendly boys, alright?” His voice was teasing, but there was something protective underneath it.
I felt a lump forming in my throat. He was being too kind, too caring. How was I supposed to distance myself from him now?
Before I could spiral into those thoughts again, he reached for my wrist, pulling me back toward him. His lips brushed my forehead, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. “Be safe,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.
I stepped out of the car, realizing that people were staring. They were all glancing between me and Sorin’s sleek car, and when I looked back, he was still there, watching me. He waved, a smile playing on his lips.
I couldn’t help but smile back.
By the time I left college, Sorin had already arranged for his driver to pick me up. Sitting in the backseat of the luxury car, I found myself missing the quaint cafe I used to work at. On impulse, I asked the driver to stop by, and when I walked inside, there was Atlas, the familiar face behind the counter.
“Atlas,” I called, catching his attention.
He smiled at me, but there was something unspoken behind his eyes. “Drea, I knew who you were the moment you walked through those doors,” he admitted when I asked about Sorin.
We chatted for a while, and as I left, he called out to me, “Drea?” His voice wavered as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to.
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That night, as I dressed for bed, I hesitated. Should I wear that nightgown again? It made me uncomfortable, but the way Sorin had looked at me last night—his gaze filled with undeniable lust—stuck with me.
I wore it again, curiosity burning within me.
When I walked into the room, Sorin’s eyes locked on mine, darkening with desire. His shirt hung open, his belt loose, revealing just enough to make my heart race. Slowly, he undid his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
And when he crossed the room, his movements predatory, I realized I had made a mistake.
Before I could react, he pinned me against the door, his body pressing into mine, his hand resting lightly on my throat, thumb brushing my lips.
“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. The tension between us was electric.
He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed and tucking me under the covers. Leaning down, his forehead touched mine, his voice low and husky. “One day, I’m going to make you mine, and you’ll be begging me to stop. That’s a promise.”
As he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, I knew I was in too deep.
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Chapter Sixteen
What am I doing?
This is wrong. Completely unfair to Kaylee. She doesn’t deserve this.
But my heart... it doesn’t beat for her the way it used to. Everything’s so tangled right now.
I promised Kaylee I’d never betray her, no matter what, but here I am, doing exactly that.
Yes, I crave Drea, but it’s not just physical. It’s something deeper.
The first time I felt drawn to her was that day she stood by the glass doors leading to the backyard, awkwardly waving at the kids. She was so damn cute. And the way she interacted with them, especially Vanessa, melted me.
Kaylee isn’t into kids. That’s okay; everyone has their preferences. But I love them. And seeing Drea with them, that softness, it stirred something in me.
She’s gentle, kind, innocent, and beyond beautiful. My heart races every time I’m near her, every time she stumbles over her words, every innocent glance she gives.
I have to choose. Now or never. Drea or Kaylee.
I’m not someone who hides from what I feel. When I want someone, I want them fully. There’s no middle ground. And I want Drea – not just her body, but her heart.
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I turned my head, catching sight of Drea asleep beside me, her hair falling messily over her face, lips slightly parted. I couldn’t help but smile.
Moving closer, I tucked the stray strand behind her ear, my knuckles grazing her cheek. She wrinkled her nose, her lips forming a small pout as though I’d disturbed her dreams.
My gaze dropped to her lips, and the urge to kiss her swelled within me. I gently traced her lower lip with my thumb.
She stirred, groaning softly, so I pulled my hand away.
But I couldn’t stop staring at her. And when her hand, still half-asleep, reached for me, brushing my chest and arm, my heart skipped a beat.
Her fingers found mine, and she held on tightly, nestling closer, seeking comfort in my warmth.
Damn it.
I moved her hand gently, wrapped my arm around her waist, and pulled her into me. She nestled against my chest, her arm slipping around my body, her soft breath warming my skin.
I kissed the top of her head, resting my chin there as I let sleep pull me under. When I woke, she was wiggling free from my hold, trying not to wake me.
"What are you doing?" I rasped, my voice heavy with sleep.
She froze, eyes wide in panic. “I-I... didn’t mean to...”
Why does she look so scared of me?
“You’re afraid of me,” I said quietly, pulling her closer.
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Her eyes widened. “N-no... I-I don’t...”
I gently cradled her head, pressing her face against my chest, like I had last night. “I’m sorry, Drea. I never wanted you to feel afraid. I’ve treated you so badly. Tell me what I can do to fix it.”
“I-it’s fine... I’m not scared...”
“Then why do you stutter around me? Are you nervous?”
“I... d-don’t have a problem...”
“So, it’s nerves. And you’re always nervous around me.” I sighed. “Please don’t be. I’d never hurt you.”
After a beat, she whispered, “Okay.”
I pulled back to look at her, and her cheeks were bright red. I smirked. “Why are you blushing?”
She shook her head frantically. “N-no! I’m not!”
Her cuteness made me laugh, a deep, genuine laugh that surprised even me. She stared at me the whole time, eyes dreamy, like she was mesmerized.
“What?” I asked, still smiling.
“Nothing...” she murmured, looking away, blushing even harder.
I cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze back to mine. “Something?”
She hesitated, then whispered, “It’s just... your laugh... it’s beautiful.”
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My heart swelled at her words. “You like it?”
She nodded shyly. “I do.”
She was so enchanting in that moment. Eyes lowered, cheeks flushed, lips hinting at a smile, and she liked my laugh.
“God, I want to kiss you so badly right now,” I groaned. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Her eyes went wide, as if she couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“W-what?”
I leaned in until our noses brushed. “I want to kiss you, Drea. Kiss you so deeply you’ll forget your own name.”
Her gaze dropped to my mouth, and she bit her lip. That was my undoing.
I closed my eyes, leaning in closer, her breath warm against my lips.
But then, she whispered, “Kaylee.”
Her voice snapped me out of it, and when I pulled back, I saw tears welling in her eyes.
"Please," she pleaded, "you’re with Kaylee. This isn’t right. Don’t mess with me."
Before I could say anything, she rushed out of the room, leaving my heart in chaos.
Later, I dropped her at college. She didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at me as she got out of the car.
As the last meeting of the day wrapped up, I grabbed my phone, ready to make an important call, but before I could, it rang.
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“Harlow?” I answered.
“Sorin,” she breathed out. “We need to talk. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What’s going on?”
“Can you come over? It’s important.”
“I wanted to talk to you too. I’ll be there soon.”
Arriving at her place, Harlow greeted me with a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek. “You wanted to talk...?”
“Harlow, what’s going on?”
She sat down on the couch, gesturing for me to do the same. “Sorin... we’ve been friends since childhood, and you’ve been a great boyfriend, but... I don’t think it’s working between us anymore.”
My heart sank. This wasn’t what I expected at all. “You’re serious?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, but there’s something else you need to know.”
I raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue.
“I’m pregnant.”
Everything froze. “What?”
Her face crumpled with guilt. “It’s not yours.”
I blinked, trying to process. “What do you mean?”
“The night you got married... I was devastated. I drank too much and... I hooked up with someone.”
I took a deep breath, processing her words. “Okay. I was coming here to say it wasn’t working between us, but now it seems we’re on the same page.”
She gave a small, sad smile. “I know. Drea’s the one for you, Sorin. She deserves your love.”
Back home, I leaned against the door, feeling lighter. Free.
Now, all that’s left is to give Drea the world.
I walked upstairs, hearing soft giggles from her room. When I peeked inside, my heart nearly burst. Drea stood there, blowing bubbles and laughing like a child. She was so carefree, so happy.
My wife.
Without thinking, I crossed the room, grabbed her, and kissed her. Finally.
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Chapter Seventeen
Tomorrow was his birthday, and I decided to bake him a cake. I know he won't be thrilled, but I can’t afford a proper gift. What could I possibly give him? He has everything already. But still, he comes to me, kisses me like that, just because he’s broken up with his girlfriend? Is this really happening?
"I... I don't understand..."
He stepped closer, gently cupping my face, his touch both tender and electrifying. “Drea, you’ve captured my heart, despite everything. Somehow, my heart chose you. You make it race with your spirit, your voice, your smile... everything about you.” His voice faltered for a second, his eyes deep with sincerity. “I know it was wrong to kiss you while I was still with Harlow. That’s why I ended things with her. We had a conversation, and we agreed to part ways. She’s moved on. She’s even pregnant with someone else’s baby. It’s over. It’s just you now, Drea.”
His words felt like a whirlwind, making my head spin. He apologized for the impulsive kiss, blaming it on how beautiful I looked in that innocent moment, blowing bubbles.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I could stop them, they spilled down my cheeks. He wiped them away with soft kisses, making my heart race even more.
It was too much to process. I needed time.
"I... I need to think, please," I whispered, feeling lost in the rush of emotions.
He looked hurt but nodded, turning and quietly leaving the room, giving me space.
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Hours passed, the clock creeping closer to midnight. I hadn’t left the room, and he hadn’t come back. His words replayed in my head. He said he needed me. He said he loved me. Me? Could he really mean it?
But maybe... maybe he only wanted something physical. Maybe he just said those words to make me fall for him, to get what he wanted. After all, why would someone like him fall for someone like me?
But then he said he broke up with Harlow... for me. He wouldn’t have done that just for something fleeting, right?
Suddenly, a thought struck me. Harlow. Why don’t I ask her if it’s true?
I grabbed my phone and searched for her on Instagram. She was famous enough to have a blue check next to her name, and even though it felt strange, I sent her a message.
“Harlow? This is Drea. I just wanted to ask something…”
I was about to set the phone down, when a notification popped up.
Harlow Sullivan sent you a message.
I opened it quickly, nervous.
“Hey, Drea. Good to hear from you! I’d be happy to answer whatever you need.”
She was so nice… and I felt awkward asking. “I know this is weird to ask, but... did Sorin break up with you?”
Her reply came almost immediately: “He didn’t tell you? Yes, we broke up. No hard feelings from me. Honestly, I think it’s for the best. He’s completely in love with you. I saw it coming. He couldn’t stop talking about you. You both deserve to be happy together. Don’t lose him, Drea. He’s a great guy.”
I stared at her message, almost in disbelief. She was genuinely okay with it. She wanted us to be together. People like her exist?
Before I could overthink, I sent a quick reply: “Thank you so much for telling me. I appreciate it.”
She simply responded with a smiling emoji, and that was that.
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My gaze drifted to the clock. It was midnight. His birthday.
But where was he? Was he upset because I hadn’t let him kiss me? He hadn’t even eaten dinner, as far as I knew.
I decided to check on him. Grabbing the cake I had made earlier, I tiptoed downstairs, looking for him in the study, the gym, and the backyard—nothing. Then I noticed the staircase leading to the terrace. Maybe he was there.
Careful not to drop the cake, I climbed the stairs and found him standing on the balcony, his back to me, his shoulders tense, head bowed.
I felt a pang of guilt. Had I hurt him?
I approached him, unsure of what to say. Finally, I spoke softly. “Sorin?”
He turned quickly, relief washing over his face. “Drea.”
His eyes fell on the cake in my hands, confusion replacing his relief.
“It’s... your birthday,” I stammered, placing the cake on the ledge. “I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, so... I made vanilla.”
Before I could finish, he pulled me into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around me, one hand cradling my head as he rested his chin on top of mine.
“You’re an angel,” he murmured. “And you want me to stay away from you? It’s impossible. I tried, but I failed. All I want is to hold you, to give you everything.”
In that moment, I felt myself fall in love with him all over again. I smiled against his chest, saying nothing. When I didn’t respond, he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.
“Happy birthday, Sorin,” I whispered.
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He smiled, first softly, then broadly, before pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, mi amor.”
I blushed, motioning to the cake. “Please, try it.”
He picked up the knife, but not before taking a picture of the cake, then turning his phone towards me, snapping a photo of me, too.
“Delete that!” I protested.
He grinned. “You look beautiful, don’t worry.” He slipped his phone into his pocket before cutting a piece of cake, feeding it to me first.
“It’s delicious,” he said, cutting himself another piece.
Watching him enjoy it made my heart swell. As he finished, he licked the icing from his fingers slowly, his eyes locked on mine.
A boldness surged through me. I stepped closer, standing on my tiptoes, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards me. Then, I kissed him.
After all these years, my heart had only ever belonged to him.
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Chapter Eighteen
Overcome with an intense, undeniable urge, I leaned closer to him, the words almost spilling out of me—I wanted to tell him I was his. That for the past three years, there had only ever been him. My heart had never beat for anyone else but him. It was always him.
I moved closer, stood on my tiptoes, and grabbed the collar of his shirt. With one swift pull, I brought his face closer to mine and pressed my lips against his.
I forced myself to keep my eyes open, desperate to see his reaction. But he stood frozen, his face a mask of shock.
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Instant regret surged through me. I shouldn’t have done this.
As I began to pull away, his hand caught my waist, tugging me back toward him. His lips crashed into mine with a low, muffled groan, igniting sparks that shot through my veins.
The intensity of it was electric. His grip tightened as though he feared I might slip away, and his lips moved against mine with an urgency I hadn’t anticipated. For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond to his feverish kisses, his lips teasing, biting, and demanding. Slowly, instinct took over, and I began to kiss him back. His response was immediate—a deep groan vibrating against my mouth as his lips pressed harder, my own quiet moan lost between us.
My arms slid around his neck as his fingers wove into my hair, tilting my head.
When his teeth grazed my bottom lip, a sharp gasp escaped me, just enough for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, sensual and maddening. Without breaking the kiss, he bent down, his hands lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
It was hard to breathe, but he didn’t seem to care. I could feel his need, the way he clung to me like I was the air he couldn’t live without.
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Finally, I pulled my hand from around his neck and cupped his cheek, urging his face away from mine. We were both breathing heavily, my heart racing out of control.
Our faces hovered inches apart. His eyes locked onto mine, warm and filled with so much emotion it made my chest tighten. But then, his gaze dropped to my mouth. “Not enough,” he growled, before his lips were back on mine—gentler this time, but no less passionate.
Between kisses, he whispered my name, “Drea…” His voice was thick with emotion, and I had no words left.
I tugged him closer, his collar clenched in my fist. "Hmm?"
He pulled back just enough to murmur, “This is the best birthday ever.”
I blinked in surprise. "It… it just started."
"And it's already amazing." He smirked, the playful look in his eyes making my cheeks flame.
Embarrassed, I slipped out of his embrace, suddenly flooded with the realization of what had just happened. Was this kiss a prelude to something more? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet.
He turned, picking up the birthday cake, then took my hand. In silence, we walked downstairs, stopping at his bedroom door where he placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Wait for me, okay?”
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I nodded, unable to meet his gaze, and slipped into his room. Once inside, I let out a long breath.
We kissed! And it was utterly mind-blowing.
Still reeling from the experience, I touched my swollen lips. It was real. All of it.
Before he could return, I rushed to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable. Not the nightgown—I knew if I wore that, it wouldn’t survive the night. So, I opted for my usual—an oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms.
When I stepped out, Sorin was already sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, deep in thought. His arms were crossed, one hand resting against his lips.
I cleared my throat softly, drawing his attention. He smiled, shaking himself from his thoughts as I quietly took my place beside him.
His gaze swept over my clothes, and he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t wear the nightgown tonight?”
I fumbled for an excuse. “Uh… it got dirty.”
“Dirty?” He smirked, his voice dropping an octave. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”
My eyes widened. How did he always manage to twist everything into something suggestive? “T-that’s not what I meant…”
His smirk deepened. “No? So, did you try anything on your own?”
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It took me a second to catch his meaning, and when I did, my face burned with a new wave of embarrassment. “N-no… I didn’t—no!”
His laughter rumbled through the room, and I couldn't help but smile despite myself.
Before I lost my nerve, I blurted out, “Sorin… I’m not ready for…” My voice trailed off, unsure how to finish, but he understood instantly.
His expression softened, and he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “I know, mi amor. You don’t have to worry. I won’t push you to do anything you’re not ready for.”
His words made my heart swell. He always seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear.
I bit my lip to suppress the smile threatening to break free, but Sorin noticed and gently freed my lip with his thumb. “You have a beautiful smile, Drea. Don’t hide it.”
He tilted my chin, coaxing a soft chuckle from me.
Looking pleased, he stroked my hair, kissing my forehead once more. “Get some sleep. You have class tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I whispered as he disappeared into the bathroom. I turned off the lights and lay down, my mind swirling with the events of the night.
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Minutes later, I felt his arm snake around my waist, pulling me back against his solid chest. His breath was warm against my hair, and I soon drifted off into the most peaceful sleep I’d ever had.
I had thought I’d spend the whole day with Sorin for his birthday, but reality had other plans. He had work, I had classes, and we were invited to dinner at his parents’ house.
As I stepped out of my college building, scanning for his driver, my heart skipped a beat when I spotted Sorin leaning casually against his car.
Had he finished work early just to come get me?
A smile crept across my face as I approached him.
"Hey," I greeted shyly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks under his loving gaze.
"Hello, mi amor," he responded, mirroring my smile.
Chapter Nineteen
At Sorin's request, I slipped into the dress he'd bought for me just an hour ago.
He had carried me into the store in his arms, and every employee and customer had their eyes on us. Some looked confused, others amused. A few found us endearing, but there were plenty of envious glances from women in the room.
Sorin took charge, picking out dresses for me to try on one by one. If I so much as hesitated on one for a moment, he would immediately add it to the growing pile of purchases.
Honestly, I could start my own boutique with the number of dresses I now owned.
After a light makeup application, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked... okay, I guess. Kaylee would’ve looked stunning in this dress, I was sure. It felt like such a beautiful gown was wasted on me. Then I remembered I needed to look up a phrase he’d called me earlier, so I grabbed my phone and quickly typed it into Google: Mi amor.
The translation popped up—My love.
My love? He’s calling me his love?
But then I recalled how Captain Hook in Once Upon a Time used to call every woman “love” without meaning anything by it. Maybe it’s just an expression. It didn’t necessarily mean Sorin felt anything deep.
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When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, Sorin was there, wearing a fitted navy-blue shirt and light jeans, effortlessly handsome. My fingers fidgeted nervously in front of me as his eyes roamed over my body, intense and unreadable.
When his gaze met mine, his jaw tightened. Was I that unimpressive?
In two long strides, he was in front of me, grabbing the back of my neck and tilting my face up to meet his lips halfway. My heart raced, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed me—slow, passionate, deliberate.
I pressed my hands against his firm chest, kissing him back, our lips moving in perfect harmony. His tongue lightly traced my lower lip, silently asking for permission. I opened my mouth, and his tongue slid inside as his hand wrapped possessively around my waist, pulling me closer.
I didn’t fight for control. I let him lead, which seemed to please him. His tongue explored my mouth as his grip tightened, sending warmth radiating through me.
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Sensing my breath running short, he pulled back, peppering gentle kisses along my jaw and down my neck, making my legs tremble.
I clung to his shirt for support as his lips continued their sensual assault. A breathy moan slipped from my lips when he softly nipped the base of my neck. He paused, clearly satisfied with my reaction.
He exhaled a shaky breath, his voice rough. "We need to go before I lose all self-control and keep you here all night."
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. He cupped my chin, brushing a final kiss across my lips, his teeth catching my lower lip, drawing a soft whimper from me.
Embarrassed by the sounds I made, I lowered my head, but his gentle words followed. "You look breathtaking, Drea." His compliment banished any earlier insecurity. "All I want is to worship every inch of you so you never doubt how stunning you are."
He knew about my insecurities, but instead of being frustrated, he soothed them.
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Sorin kissed my forehead tenderly. "Come on, we’re going to be late, and my mother will kill us both." He intertwined his fingers with mine, leading me to his car.
Dinner with his parents was comfortable, just as I remembered them. They treated me with warmth, like family.
“I always wanted a daughter,” his mother, Laura, confessed as we sat together on the couch. “But because of some health issues, I couldn’t have more children. Now, I have you.”
Her words filled me with warmth. “Thank you,” I whispered.
She squeezed my hand gently. “If you ever need anything, or if Sorin ever gets on your nerves, just let me know, okay?”
I smiled softly and nodded.
Laura cupped my cheek, her expression turning sad. “I know you two were forced into this marriage, and we’re sorry for that. We had our reasons. But I truly hope you’ll both fall in love.”
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Sorin’s face flashed in my mind—his words, his touches, his kisses—and a blush spread across my cheeks. He treated me better than I ever expected. “He’s... he’s been good to me,” I admitted. “He even helped me re-enroll in school, and we have all our meals together.”
Her eyes sparkled with joy. “That’s wonderful, Drea. I’m so happy for you two.” Then her tone lowered. “Do you love him?”
Should I tell her? Would she run to Sorin with this? He probably already knew how I felt anyway. “I do love him,” I confessed softly. “But... please don’t tell him.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Your secret’s safe with me.” She grinned, clearly thrilled by my confession. It made me feel... happy.
“Where’s Sorin?” I asked, glancing around.
“He’s with his father in the study,” she replied.
“Do you think I could go see him?”
“Of course! It’s just up the stairs, at the end of the hall.”
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I followed her directions, but as I approached the study, I paused when I heard Sorin’s voice through the door. “I need the truth, Dad. The real reason behind this marriage.”
The real reason? Wasn’t it just a business deal?
“You already know,” his father replied gruffly. “It’s because of that deal I made.”
“It’s not just about the deal, and you know it,” Sorin pressed. “You never let me marry Kaylee, even though you’d known her for years. And now you want me to believe you arranged this marriage out of nowhere?”
Kaylee? Is Sorin still thinking about her?
His father hesitated. “Do you not like Drea? Are you planning on divorcing her?”
My heart clenched at the thought.
Sorin’s voice turned sharp. “Divorce her? No! I’m not going anywhere. But I deserve to know the truth.”
There was a long silence. Then his father sighed. “Drea is Emerson’s daughter.”
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It felt like cold water had been dumped over me. Emerson? That wasn’t my father’s name. I didn’t know anyone named Emerson.
“He had a daughter?” Sorin’s voice was laced with shock.
“He did.”
My pulse raced. Who was Emerson? And why were they talking about my father in the past tense?
My knees gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. Within moments, the door swung open, and Sorin was there, his face full of concern. “Drea?”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Who’s... Emerson?”
Sorin realized I’d heard everything, and worry deepened in his gaze. He helped me up and pressed a kiss to my forehead before guiding me into the study.
His father looked startled but composed himself quickly.
Sorin settled me in a chair beside him, his arm protectively around my shoulders. “She deserves to know the truth.”
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His father sighed, his expression sorrowful. “I’m sorry you found out this way, Drea.”
“Who is Emerson?” I asked, my voice firmer this time.
“He was my best friend. You are his daughter, Drea. I’ve known about you for a long time. That’s why I arranged this marriage—to protect you, to get you out of the situation you were in.”
Sorin’s hand tightened around me, offering silent comfort as my world tilted.
“That man... he’s not my real father?” I whispered.
His father shook his head. “No.”
“And my mother?”
“She’s your biological mother.”
I felt a flicker of relief, but the weight of my father’s absence crushed me. “Where is he? Where’s my father?”
Sorin’s grip on me tightened as his father’s face grew solemn. “He’s dead.”
The room spun, my heart shattering at the words. My father was gone. And my mother had kept this secret from me for all these years.
“Drea?” Sorin’s voice was soft, but it barely registered.
Grief overwhelmed me, and everything faded to black.
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Chapter Twenty
For as long as I can remember, I was haunted by the question of why my father could never look at me with love, why I always seemed to be an unwanted weight on his shoulders. And then there was my mother. She was supposed to be my protector, yet her coldness mirrored his. That’s when I learned—love wasn’t meant for me. I didn’t deserve it.
The familiar ache I thought Sorin had erased began to resurface, making it hard to breathe.
I jolted awake, gasping for air.
Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dim room. I was back in Sorin's bedroom.
"Drea?" His voice was gentle but strained. His face came into focus, hovering above me, looking relieved yet weary. His eyes were red, as if he'd been on edge.
I pushed myself up from the bed, Sorin sitting beside me. "What happened?"
"You fainted. I brought you home," he explained softly, handing me a glass of water. “Drink this.”
He held the glass steady as I sipped, then placed it back on the nightstand, wiping a stray droplet from my chin with his sleeve.
"My father..." I whispered.
Sorin leaned back against the headboard, pulling me close so my head rested on his shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry, Drea."
Tears stung my eyes. "You knew him?"
His chest rose in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I was a kid, but I remember him."
I hesitated, my voice trembling. "What happened to him?"
Sorin pressed his cheek against the top of my head, his arm tightening around my waist. "He passed away a month after you were born. A heart attack. He was a good man, Drea. I don’t remember much, but I know he loved you."
A few tears slipped down my face. "Why didn’t she ever tell me? Why did she lie?"
He exhaled slowly. "That's something only she can answer."
"She hated me... both of them did. Everyone does."
Sorin's grip on me tightened. "Not everyone. Do you think I hate you? Or my parents, or the people at the café? Even Adrian. They love you, Drea. And they always will."
I curled closer into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Will you... take me to his grave?"
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "Whenever you’re ready."
I wanted so badly to tell him I loved him, to ask if he loved me back. But fear kept me silent. Instead, I let myself cry in his arms, and he held me until my tears ran dry.
As exhaustion washed over me, my body grew limp. My eyes fluttered shut.
"Drea?" Sorin’s hand lightly patted my cheeks. "You should change before you sleep."
"I’m too tired," I mumbled, already halfway lost to sleep.
"You’ll be uncomfortable in those clothes," he persisted.
"No," I groaned, my voice barely audible.
He sighed, his tone softening. "Do you want me to change them for you?"
That snapped me awake, just a little. He wasn’t teasing. He was serious.
And, somehow, I didn’t mind. I was too drained to feel self-conscious. "You can," I whispered.
Surprised, he stared at me for a moment before leaning down to kiss me softly. "Okay."
Sorin left briefly, returning with one of his white T-shirts. As he climbed back onto the bed, he paused. "You’re sure?"
I nodded, too tired to care about anything but sleep. He gently slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders, his touch careful and respectful. His eyes stayed locked on my face, never straying.
"Do you want me to take off your bra too?" he asked, his voice almost shy.
"Yes, Sorin."
He unclasped it with ease, and though I was bare, I felt safe. He gave me a reassuring smile, cheeks flushed, before helping me into his T-shirt, which hung down to my thighs. The soft fabric smelled like him, comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.
Hovering over me, his hands resting on either side of my head, Sorin gazed down at me with such tenderness that it brought tears back to my eyes.
Then, his lips found mine, the kiss soft and sweet, full of care. It wasn’t urgent or hungry—just a promise that he was there, and that he cared.
“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through, Drea," he whispered against my lips. "I wish I could take it all away."
"You already do," I murmured, smiling through the tears, and he kissed me again, slower this time.
After pulling back, he pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. "Goodnight, mi amor."
My heart fluttered. Now I understood what that meant, and I couldn’t help but blush. "Goodnight."
The next morning, Sorin parked outside my college, his worry etched deep in his features. "You don’t have to go to class today, Drea. You should rest."
I was exhausted—my eyes were puffy from crying, and my whole body felt drained. But I shook my head. "I’m okay."
He didn’t believe me. "Stay home, please. I’ll stay with you. We can watch movies."
How could I not love this man?
"I-it’s important... We have a special class today..."
Sorin frowned. "You’ll have more special classes. How can I work if I’m worried about you all day?"
"I’ll text you," I offered weakly.
"It’s not enough." His frustration crept into his voice. "Please, Drea. Do you really want to go?"
"Yes, please," I whispered.
He sighed in defeat. "Fine. But if you feel off at any point, text me, and I’ll come pick you up."
"In the middle of class?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. Even in the middle of class." His serious tone made me laugh softly.
Before I stepped out, I leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then darted into the building.
When I entered class, Blaine, the only acquaintance I’d made, waved me over. “Drea! Over here!”
I smiled and joined her in the front row. She was already buzzing with excitement. "I heard someone famous is taking our class today. Who do you think it is?"
I shrugged, barely able to focus on her excitement.
A few minutes later, the whispers died down as someone walked into the room. My heart skipped a beat. Sorin.
In his signature black suit, he looked every bit the powerful CEO he was, his eyes scanning the room until they found mine. A small smile played on his lips.
He stepped up to the podium, introducing himself. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Sorin Zaveri, CEO of Zaveri Industries. I’ll be your guest lecturer today.”
Gasps echoed through the room, whispers swirling as the class tried to understand why a businessman was teaching law.
Sorin explained, "Though I run a business now, I studied law here, in this very room. I’ve always had a passion for it."
Beside me, Blaine was practically swooning. "Oh my God, he’s even hotter in person."
I rolled my eyes. "He’s married."
"So? I can still appreciate beauty when I see it." She smirked.
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He was mine.
Chapter Twenty One
"Did you plan this?" I asked Sorin as we stepped out of the college, his arm securely around my waist.
“No. This offer came up a few days ago, but I forgot until you mentioned that special class today.”
“Oh.”
Instead of heading back to class, Sorin took me home. He insisted on making us lunch while I sat back and watched him, his movements smooth and confident in the kitchen.
As we began to eat, I hesitated before speaking, "Sorin?"
“Yes?”
“Can we... visit my dad’s grave?” My voice was low, somber.
He paused, putting his fork down. “We can.”
“After lunch?”
He sighed softly. “There’s someone you need to talk to first.”
“Who?”
His expression tightened. “Adrian.”
“Adrian? What does he have to do with this?”
Sorin ran a hand over his face. “You still have his number, right? Call him. I need to speak with him.”
Confused but curious, I grabbed my phone and dialed Adrian’s number, handing the phone to Sorin.
Jaw clenched, Sorin pressed the phone to his ear, taking a slow breath as the line rang. A moment later, Adrian must have answered because Sorin’s voice dropped coldly, “Adrian.”
I couldn’t hear Adrian’s reply, but Sorin’s response was sharp. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get here, or I’ll find you myself. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Sorin glanced at me, and I caught the faintest shift in his expression before he added, “Yes, she does.”
After he hung up, I swallowed nervously. “Sorin, what... what does Adrian need to explain?”
His gaze softened as he looked at me. “Don’t worry, Drea. It’ll be okay. Finish your lunch.”
I tried to eat, but my appetite was long gone. Sorin kept a close eye on the clock, tension radiating from him as the minutes passed. Twenty minutes. What if Adrian got stuck in traffic?
But right as the time ticked down, the doorbell rang.
Before I could stand, Sorin was already at the door. Adrian stood there, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking onto mine. “Drea.”
“Hi, Adrian...” I murmured, unsure of what to expect.
He tried to step inside, but Sorin blocked his path.
“Sorin, I need to talk to her,” Adrian said quietly, the usual bite missing from his tone. “Let me explain.”
“If you ever abandon her again, I swear—” Sorin’s voice was low and dangerous.
“Let me talk to her,” Adrian repeated, his voice firm.
After a tense moment, Sorin stepped aside. Adrian approached me, his eyes searching mine. “Can we talk... privately?”
I glanced at Sorin, who gave a tight nod. Adrian took my hand and led me upstairs to my room. Once there, he knelt in front of me, taking both my hands in his. “I’m sorry, Drea. For everything.”
“Adrian, what’s happening? What mistakes? What explanations?”
He exhaled slowly. “Sorin told me you learned the truth about your father. Your real father.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat.
“And now... you need to know that I’m your brother, Drea.”
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“What?” I pulled my hands back, staring at him. “That’s... that’s insane!”
“I’m telling you the truth. We share the same father.”
“H-how?”
He explained slowly, each word sinking painfully into my mind. “Our father had a girlfriend before he met your mom. She died giving birth to me, but he raised me until I was sent to boarding school when he married your mother. She didn’t want me around. I stayed away, but he still sent me letters about you, my little sister. I couldn’t be there for you when you were born, and after he passed... well, things got complicated. But I’ve always been watching out for you. That’s why I became your bodyguard. I had to protect you.”
Tears stung my eyes, spilling freely as Adrian's voice cracked. "I’m so sorry, Drea. I should have come for you sooner."
Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I asked, “You and Sorin... you’re family friends?”
“Our fathers were best friends, and Sorin’s mom is my mom’s cousin. So, yes, we’re cousins. But you and Sorin... you’re not related, except as husband and wife.”
“Oh.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Adrian squeezed my hands again. “Please, Drea. Say something. Be angry with me if you want. I left you all alone.”
“It’s okay, Adrian. You had your reasons.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re not mad at me?”
I shook my head, my voice soft. “No. Just... don’t leave again. Stay with me.”
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“I promise, I won’t.” He pulled me into a tight hug, both of us crying quietly.
When we went back downstairs, Sorin was pacing the living room, his worry etched into every line of his face. He rushed over as soon as he saw me, his eyes narrowing at Adrian. “You made her cry.”
“I told her everything, and she forgave me,” Adrian replied evenly.
I touched Sorin’s arm. “I’m okay, Sorin.”
Reluctantly, Sorin pulled me into his arms, his eyes never leaving Adrian. The tension between them was palpable. “Please,” I whispered. “Can’t you both forgive each other?”
Sorin scoffed, his voice low. “Tell him to apologize first. He left me. I was just a kid, and he disappeared.”
Adrian looked pained but simply nodded. He left without another word.
Later that evening, after visiting my father’s grave, Sorin held me tightly in the quiet of his room. The weight of everything that had happened seemed to finally catch up with me, but in his arms, I felt safe. I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him—he felt like home.
Sorin was my home.
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After years of loss and heartache, I had found where I belonged. Lifting my head, I kissed his chest softly. He looked down at me, confused. Before he could say anything, I whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here... for existing.”
He smiled gently, kissing the tip of my nose. “There’s more to that, isn’t there?”
I nodded. “A lot more.”
“And you’ll tell me one day?”
“Maybe... someday.”
His smile widened as he rubbed his nose against mine. “I’ll wait for that day, Drea. Always.”
Tears welled up again, but this time, I didn’t try to hide them. He wiped them away, whispering, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
And for the first time in a long while, I believed him.
With my heart full of love, I leaned up and kissed him, pouring everything I felt into that one, simple kiss.
Chapter Twenty Two
As the tears welled up in my eyes, I quickly blinked them away. "You're... making me emotional."
He gently wiped away a tear from the corner of my eye with his thumb. "It’s okay. Everything will work out, I promise."
With him by my side, I knew it would. I had found my safe place in him.
Sliding my arms around his neck, I stood on tiptoe, and with a surge of confidence, brought my lips to his, pouring all my feelings into the kiss.
He responded instantly, his kiss deep and hungry, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the ground. Our lips moved in sync, fast and desperate, neither of us slowing down.
The tension between us was electric, flowing through our kiss like a current we couldn’t resist.
When his tongue met mine, the sensation was overwhelming, pulling a soft moan from me. He began moving us backward, never breaking the kiss.
My legs hit the edge of the bed, and he gently laid me down. Standing above me, his lips were swollen, his hair disheveled, and his shirt askew.
He wasted no time, discarding his jacket onto the floor, climbing over me, and capturing my mouth again. His tongue slipped inside, the kiss more heated than before.
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I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath my fingers.
I wanted him—completely and without fear.
His lips trailed from mine, placing soft, heated kisses along my neck. My hands slid down his back, lifting the edge of his shirt, touching his warm skin. He groaned against my neck, his lips finding a sensitive spot.
"Sorin," I moaned, his name a plea on my lips. "Please." Though I didn’t even know what I was asking for.
He pulled back slightly, straddling me, careful not to press his weight on me fully. His eyes, dark with desire, locked on mine, searching.
With swift hands, he began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. I swallowed hard, my breath catching at the sight. His shirt joined the rest of his clothes on the floor.
His lips resumed their journey, placing kisses down my neck and across the curve of my breasts, even through my dress. "Do you want this, Drea? Are you sure?" His voice was a low rumble, his fingers inching up my thigh.
Words were hard to form under his intense gaze, but I nodded. "Yes," I breathed.
"Good," he murmured, lips dangerously close to my chest, making my breath hitch. "Because I’ve been waiting for this."
He gently undressed me, my dress slipping away until I lay before him in only my underwear. His eyes devoured me, leaving no part of me unseen.
Feeling exposed, I instinctively covered my chest, but he quickly moved my hands away. "You're perfect," he said, his voice rough, making my heart race. His hands roamed, one teasing my breast while the other found its way lower, drawing a loud moan from me.
"God," he groaned, biting down gently on my breast. "You’re so ready for me."
When his finger slid inside, I instinctively grabbed his wrist, unsure if I wanted him to stop or continue—probably the latter.
He leaned in, his voice low, almost a growl. "We’re just getting started."
Sorin knelt beside me, unbuckling his belt with a slow, deliberate motion. My eyes widened, wondering what he planned to do with it.
Seeing my apprehension, he rested his forehead against mine. "Do you trust me?"
"I do," I whispered without hesitation.
"Then pick a safe word, mi amor," he said softly.
I hesitated, knowing exactly what that meant. But I trusted him.
"Grey," I said.
"Grey," he repeated, kissing me gently, reassuring me.
Then, without warning, his demeanor changed. "Move back," he ordered, his voice deep and commanding.
I slid backward on the bed until my head was near the headboard. With practiced ease, he looped the belt around my wrists, securing them above my head to the headboard, rendering me immobile.
I should have been nervous, tied up and at his mercy, but instead, a thrill of excitement coursed through me.
He stepped away, standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes drinking in every inch of me. Slowly, deliberately, he caressed my ankle, placing a gentle kiss there. "Be good and wait for me."
I nodded, my heart racing as I watched him disappear into the closet. When he returned, his pants were gone, leaving only his boxers—his arousal evident—and in his hand was a long, thin strip of black silk.
Without a word, he tied it around my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Panic flickered briefly, but his lips on my neck soothed me.
"If you want to stop, just say the word," he reminded me gently.
But I didn’t want to stop. "It’s okay," I whispered, surprised at how much I craved this.
His kisses trailed down my body, slower, more deliberate, until he reached the heat of my core. I gasped as his mouth pressed against me, pleasure shooting through me, making me arch off the bed.
Then his tongue began its slow, torturous work, and I couldn’t help but move. He slapped my thigh lightly. "Stay still, or I’ll have to tie your legs too."
I stilled immediately, my body trembling, desperate for release.
He continued, pushing me closer and closer to the edge until I was a mess of moans and pleas.
"Sorin, please," I begged when he pulled away suddenly, my arousal dripping down my thighs. "Please."
"Beg," he growled, his voice thick with dominance.
I was past the point of sanity. "Sorin, please. Let me come. I need it."
"More."
I practically sobbed. "Please, Sorin!"
Finally, he slid a finger inside me, curling it just right, and I shattered, my release ripping through me as I screamed his name.
He untied the blindfold and belt, and I met his gaze. He kissed me softly, his touch a soothing balm as my body slowly came down from the high.
"You okay?" he asked, concern softening his features.
I nodded, breathless. He kissed me again, this time tenderly, as if savoring the moment.
"You’re mine now," he murmured, pulling me closer. "Completely mine."
Chapter Twenty Three
"Drea," Sorin whispered, his breath warm, as he lifted his head, catching my gaze just before my eyelids began to close. "Look at me."
His voice broke through the haze, and I forced my eyes open. When I met his gaze, his hand reached up to gently cup my cheek. "I love you," he said softly.
My heart stilled, my mind snapping to alertness. "W-what?" The words stumbled out, hardly a breath.
A soft smile curved his lips. "I love you," he repeated, each word slow and sure.
A surge of disbelief and warmth hit me, butterflies erupting in my stomach. Sorin Araimis Zaveri—the billionaire—loved me? I was... nothing compared to him. Sure, he'd shown me kindness and care; he’d kissed me, held me close, spent hours just talking. He’d get jealous over silly things, cooked me breakfast, even dropped me off at college daily. Yet, in spite of all that, I’d convinced myself there was no way he’d truly love me. Why would he? I wasn’t enough.
He... loved me. But for how long?
His gaze softened as if he saw every insecurity and doubt I’d ever harbored. He could always sense my fears, even when I couldn’t say them out loud.
I didn’t realize I was crying until his lips brushed away my tears. He took my hand, weaving our fingers together and resting them against his cheek.
“Drea, I love you. I. Love. You. I know there are things you may still be angry about, doubts you might hold onto, but I’m here to make up for all of it—no matter how long it takes. You’re stuck with me, for better or worse, forever.”
My lips trembled as I tried to muffle my sobs. "But… I… I’m not worth it.”
He moved my hand from my mouth, his gaze fierce. "Don’t say that. You’re worth every star in the sky, every single one. You just can’t see it yet."
I broke down, feeling the weight of his words, and saw his own tears well up. "Drea, please, try to see yourself as I do. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and it’s what made me fall for you in the first place."
“It’ll take time, I know,” he murmured, “but I’ll wait. I’ll remind you every single day just how incredible you are.”
I had loved him too—all along. My insecurities always loomed large, but right now, I wasn’t letting them stand in my way. I trusted him, and if he said he loved me, then he meant it. His actions had proved it time and again.
With shaky hands, I cupped his face, pulling him closer and pressing my lips to his. I wanted to give him every piece of my heart in that moment.
“I love you, Sorin,” I whispered against his lips. “I love you too.”
A bright smile spread across his face. “I know,” he chuckled, “but say it again.”
A blush rose to my cheeks. "How long have you known?”
With a soft laugh, he pulled back, lying down and wrapping his arms around me, pulling me on top of him.
“Since the day I saw my photo as your phone wallpaper. And once,” he teased, flicking my nose, “you mumbled it in your sleep.”
I blushed, my cheeks warming as I laughed softly. “That’s…so embarrassing.”
His laughter filled the air, rich and warm, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. Resting on top of him, I felt the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm as his arms wrapped securely around my waist.
“Mi amor,” he began, his gaze intense and full of curiosity, “I need to know—when did you first fall in love with me? It had to be long before we were married. I can’t imagine you fell for me with how I treated you then.”
I took a deep breath. “Three years ago. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you feeding those kids on the street. I was sitting in a café across the road, watching you.”
He stilled for a second, his eyes widening. “You’ve got to be kidding! That’s the first time you saw me?”
Surprised by his reaction, I stammered, “Is…is that a problem?”
His face broke into a radiant smile. “Problem? No, it’s incredible! That was the very first time I saw you, too.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You…you saw me three years ago, too?”
He chuckled, his eyes alight with joy. “I did. It was a terrible day for me, and then I looked across the street, and there you were, sitting by the window, looking so adorable with your face pressed against the glass. It completely lifted my spirits.”
He leaned in closer, his voice a gentle whisper. “That wasn’t chance, Drea. That was fate.”
“Sorin…” My voice broke as a tear slipped down, landing softly on his chest. “From that moment on, I knew it was you. You became my strength, the reason I held on even on my darkest days, hoping for just one more glimpse of you.”
His face contorted with anguish. “Drea…did you ever…” His voice faltered as he shut his eyes, as though afraid to ask, “Did you ever think about…taking your life?”
The memory of that night came flooding back, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, clinging tightly. “The night before you brought those kids home… I wanted to. I tried. But then…I thought of you. And then, as if you knew, you knocked on my door. I knew I couldn’t miss hearing your voice again.”
He pulled me even closer, his hand cradling my head as he cursed softly under his breath. “Damn it, I knew something was off that night. God, Drea, I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”
“Sorin, please, it wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s not yours either,” he whispered, and I felt something warm fall into my hair. He was crying. “I’d tear apart anyone who hurt you like this. And I know I’m on that list, too.”
I lifted my head to meet his eyes. “You were never on that list. No matter what, you were always the one I loved enough to forgive. Their words scarred me, but I won’t let those scars keep me from the joy I feel now.”
He kissed my forehead tenderly. “Do you know how pure you are?”
Despite my tears, I smiled against his neck. “You remind me often.”
“Good. I’ll keep telling you because you’re too precious to forget.”
I laughed, nestling deeper against him. “Alright.”
He kissed the top of my head, holding me close. “Alright.”
…
Sorin’s pouty face and puppy-dog eyes nearly melted me. “Don’t leave me. It’s Saturday, and you’re abandoning me for that café owner?”
I stood in front of Sorin, fully dressed and ready to go, while he lay back on the bed, propped up on one elbow, watching me with that all-too-familiar intensity.
“Look, he’s just a friend, and I’ve got work to do…” I trailed off, hoping he’d understand.
He smirked. “I get it. You want your independence, but come on, just say what you need. Whatever it is, it’s yours.”
“Sorin, please,” I said softly, “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Fine. You’re not going to listen, so at least let me drive you there.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “No, it’s just down the road. Besides, walking is good exercise.”
His eyes gleamed mischievously. “Come back to bed, and I’ll give you a real workout.”
I flushed. “Uh…no…no, I need to go.”
I turned to leave, but he called out, “Drea?”
“Yes?”
His lips curled into a warm smile. “I love you.”
Butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach. “I…I love you too.”
“Come back soon,” he urged, eyes glinting.
“No promises,” I shot back playfully, rushing out before he could snatch me back into bed.
…
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As I stepped into the café, Atlas glanced up with a smirk. “Well, someone’s glowing. Something special happen?”
I bit back a grin. “I’m just…happy.”
“No kidding, Sherlock.” He handed me an apron with a playful eye roll. “Alright, spill it. What’s got you all sunny?”
“Sorin told me he loves me,” I confessed, blushing. “I never thought I’d hear that…especially considering how our marriage started. It wasn’t exactly a fairytale in the beginning.”
Atlas’s face fell, and he quickly busied himself with the cookie dough. “I figured as much when I saw him here. Things looked…complicated. But I’m glad it worked out, Drea. Your happiness means a lot to me.”
I reached over, touching his arm gently. “Atlas, what’s wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, he gave me a small, forced smile. “Nothing, really. It’s…fine.”
“Atlas, please. Tell me.”
He stopped kneading, pressing his hand to his forehead before finally meeting my gaze. “Drea…I like you. More than a friend should. I fell for you the moment I met you, and I knew it would end in heartbreak, but I couldn’t help it.”
I felt my breath hitch, realizing that my suspicions were true.
He went on, his tone tinged with regret. “When I saw your husband that day, I thought something was wrong between you two. I know it’s selfish, but part of me hoped it wouldn’t work out. Hoped maybe, somehow, you’d end up with me. But…you’re happy now, and that’s all I ever wanted for you.”
I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat.
He gave a sad smile, resigned. “I knew it was inevitable. I’m okay, really. You’re happy, and that’s what matters.”
“I’m so sorry, Atlas. I…I had no idea.”
“Drea.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, grounding me. “Please, don’t worry about it. I’m glad I could tell you, but it’s alright. I’ll be okay.” He squeezed my shoulder, then lifted my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it. “Thank you for being here. Just…stay, if you can. Keep brightening up this place.”
I couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down my cheeks. Even if my feelings for him were only friendship, I could understand the pain he was going through.
He pulled me into a tight hug, then let go. “Please keep working here, Drea. And stay my friend.”
Wiping my eyes, I nodded. “I will.”
Just then, we heard someone shouting from outside the kitchen.
A sharp, feminine voice rang out. “Where’s the owner of this café?! Where’s Atlas Raith?!”
Atlas and I exchanged puzzled looks as the footsteps grew closer. Suddenly, Harlow strode in, her usual glow replaced by fierce determination, anger etched across her face.
Atlas’s eyes widened. “Harlow?”
She crossed her arms, her gaze steely. “Oh, so you do remember me, Atlas. How nice.”
“What’s going on?” he stammered.
Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Good that you remember me. It won’t be so shocking when I tell you this: Congratulations, Atlas. You’re going to be a father.”
My heart stopped.
Chapter Twenty Four
We barely had time to process what was happening when a sharp voice called from outside the kitchen.
“Where’s the owner of this café? Where’s Atlas Raith?!”
Footsteps approached, and Atlas and I exchanged puzzled glances. Moments later, Harlow stormed in, her usual radiance replaced by raw, unfiltered anger.
Atlas’s jaw dropped in shock, and I could only stare. “Harlow?” he managed, disbelief thick in his voice.
“Oh, so you do remember me,” she sneered, folding her arms across her chest. “How delightful.”
Atlas looked lost. “Harlow, what’s going on?”
Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, you remember me? Perfect. Then it won’t be too shocking when I tell you—congratulations, Atlas. You’re about to be a father.”
I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing a gasp. Sorin had mentioned Harlow was pregnant, but Atlas as the father? That was the last thing I’d expected.
Atlas went pale. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend. Think back to the night of May 10th.”
If Harlow noticed my presence, she ignored it completely. I could hardly find words. “Um…I should go,” I mumbled to no one in particular. Grabbing my things, I hurried out.
What in the world is going on?
I reached home, still trying to wrap my mind around the scene I’d just witnessed. Before I could open the door, Sorin swung it open with a grin. “Miss me already?”
I gave him a playful shove as I stepped inside, and he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Back so soon? Not that I’m complaining. What happened?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” he teased.
I took a deep breath. “Remember when you mentioned Harlow was pregnant? Guess who the father is.”
He shrugged. “Some random guy she hooked up with?”
“Nope. It’s Atlas.”
Sorin looked completely blank for a moment, then his eyes flew wide open. “Wait—Atlas? The owner of the café?”
I nodded, and he let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s…something.”
I winced, and he picked up on it right away. “What?”
“You curse a lot.”
He chuckled, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, but really—how do you know?”
“I was with him when Harlow showed up. She…sarcastically congratulated him on becoming a dad.”
Sorin’s expression darkened as he muttered, “Angry, sarcastic Harlow—that’s trouble. Might serve him right, though.”
I swatted his shoulder. “Hey, he’s my friend!”
He gave me a half-smile. “A friend I’ve never really liked.”
I glared at him. “He’s sweet and thoughtful and—”
Sorin’s scowl deepened. “Go on, tell me about all his wonderful qualities.”
Feeling mischievous, I leaned in, letting the words slip before I thought them through. "He’s charming, funny, and flirty… and he actually told me he likes me—” My hand shot up to cover my mouth. That was not supposed to come out.
Sorin’s eyes narrowed, a low growl escaping him. "He said what?”
“N-no... I mean... that’s not...”
He crossed his arms, his gaze darkening. “Drea, you better tell me, or I’m going over there to drag the truth out of him myself.”
I laughed awkwardly, hoping he’d drop it. “He… um… confessed that he likes me, you know, more than just friends.”
Sorin scoffed, his expression shifting from irritation to smug certainty. “Knew it. Just didn’t think he’d actually admit it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. “Because I told him I’m in love with you.”
That softened his gaze. In one smooth motion, he scooped me into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the couch. “Should’ve gone even further—made sure he knows he doesn’t stand a chance.”
He settled on the couch, pulling me close as I straddled him. “But he’s still my friend. Just a friend,” I reminded him gently.
He let out a long sigh. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?”
“Maybe. But so are you,” I shot back, catching the faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Getting bold, huh?” He teased.
Only then did I realize how at ease I felt with him—how natural it was to talk back, to joke around. A grin crept across my face. “Admit it—you like it.”
He tightened his hold. “I love it, Drea. Seeing how comfortable you’ve grown with me… it means everything.”
My cheeks flushed. “It’s not just because of that… you said you loved me, and that’s why.”
Gently, he pulled my face closer, resting his forehead against mine. “And I meant it. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
I placed my hand on his chest, whispering, “I love you too, Sorin.”
“Say it again.”
I took his face in my hands, brushing soft kisses as I murmured, “I love you.” His forehead. “I love you.” His cheeks. “I love you.” And finally, our lips. “I love you.”
He looked at me, his eyes reflecting so much warmth it stole my breath. “I love you, Drea. So much that even the stars couldn’t measure it. Remember that.”
I nestled my head on his shoulder, letting his warmth surround me. “I will.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I asked, gazing over the balcony of the open-air restaurant, my eyes lingering on the view below.
Sorin slipped his arms around me from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “It is,” he murmured, though his eyes never left me.
I felt my cheeks warm. “Stop making me blush.”
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He chuckled softly, trailing kisses along my neck and up to my jaw.
“S-Sorin… we’re in a restaurant…” I protested, though my voice wavered.
He smirked. “And? The whole place is empty.”
“Because you insisted on renting it all out,” I teased, rolling my eyes.
“Just wanted our first date as husband and wife to be private,” he replied smoothly.
With a defeated sigh, I leaned back into him, giving in to his touch. His lips grazed my neck, each kiss sending a shiver down my spine.
“Just wait until we’re home,” he whispered against my ear, his voice low and teasing. “You won’t be walking tomorrow.”
Another shiver ran through me, my pulse racing. “Please…”
“Come on,” he murmured, grabbing my hand. “We’re going home. Now.”
I winced loudly. “Ow!”
Beside me, Sorin stirred, cracking an eye open and glancing at me, still half-asleep. “What’s wrong?”
Perched on the edge of the bed, I whimpered, “I’m sore… everything aches.”
He had the nerve to chuckle. “Told you, didn’t I?”
I glared at him, pouting. “You’re heartless! I’m in serious pain!”
He propped himself up on his elbow, a smug smile on his face. “I could’ve sworn you were enjoying it.”
“Well… I was, but that’s not the point.”
“Hold on.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he got up—completely unfazed by his lack of clothes—and disappeared into the bathroom.
I waited, arms folded, until he returned a few moments later. Without a word, he scooped me up, carrying me effortlessly into the bathroom.
He had already drawn a warm bath, lavender and eucalyptus oils swirling in the water. Gently, he lowered me in, and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the warmth began to ease my aching muscles.
Dr. Barbara Sturm Hyaluronic Serum
He settled beside the tub, stroking my hair gently. “You’ll feel better soon.” Leaning down, he kissed my forehead.
Not long after, he joined me, lathering shower gel in his hands and running his fingers along my shoulders, massaging tenderly.
Overcome with gratitude, I leaned in and kissed him softly. “I love you.”
His face brightened, his smile warm. “I know. I love you too.”
I needed a few books from my old place—the same ones Sorin offered to replace, but I couldn’t bring myself to let them go. I’d made notes, marked pages; they held something sentimental that new copies couldn’t replace.
But walking back into that house filled me with dread. At least Sorin was with me. With him by my side, I felt like nothing could go wrong.
I gripped his hand a little tighter as I pressed the doorbell.
Moments later, my mother opened the door. Seeing her brought back all the questions I’d pushed aside about my father, and I wanted to confront her, demand answers. But now wasn’t the time. I was here for my things, nothing more.
“I… I just need to grab a few things… from my room.” My voice was shaky, but Sorin squeezed my hand, steadying me.
She scanned me critically, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Right.”
Then her gaze shifted to Sorin, and she smiled. “Sorin! How are you?”
Sorin’s face was expressionless. “It’s Mr. Zaveri to you.”
Ignoring the tension, I pulled him along and led him up the stairs to my room.
I immediately began searching for my books, my eyes darting around the room. The quicker I found them, the faster we could leave. This place felt like it was closing in on me, suffocating.
Not seeing them on my desk or the shelves, I checked the closet. Sorin followed me in, though I was too focused on my search to notice him step away.
Finally, tucked in a corner, I found my books. Just as I was about to turn, Sorin called softly from across the room, “Drea?”
“Yes?”
His back was to me as he held something in his hand. “You might want to… see this.”
I frowned, walking over. “What is it?”
He turned, holding a sheet of worn paper in his hand, his face a shade paler than usual. “It’s a letter. From your father.”
Chapter Twenty Five
"My dearest Drea,
My hope is that someday, it’s you who discovers this letter. Adrian can be impulsive and unpredictable, and I have no idea what he might do in the future.
Drea, my little spark, my strength—I wish I’d had more time to see you grow, to be there for you. You are my heart, my sunshine, and please, always remember that. There’s so much I want to say, but time has grown scarce; I can feel it slipping away. My health is failing quickly, and it’s not by accident.
You deserve to know, Drea, that the reason for my failing health is Vivian—your mother. I wanted so badly for our marriage to work, wanted to share everything with her. But she only cared about my fortune, and she’s gone to great lengths to secure it for herself.
My estate belongs solely to you and Adrian. I wanted to make this clear in a will, but I never expected time to run out this way. I’ve long suspected Vivian was tainting my drinks, but today, I’m certain. She brought me coffee not long ago, and there, faintly on the cup’s rim, were traces of a familiar poison. I could call the police or rush to the hospital, but instead, I choose to write to you now, hoping you find this someday, hidden here in your nursery.
If things go as I hope, David may look after you, maybe even adopt you, though he doesn’t know of you yet. If not, I pray Adrian finds you and keeps you safe. I believe you’ll grow into a remarkable woman, strong and resilient, Drea. Know that I loved you fiercely. Please tell Adrian that despite his anger over my choices, I’m deeply sorry and that I love him as well.
I love you both,
~Emerson Grant"
The letter slipped from Drea’s trembling fingers, her legs giving way. Sorin quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her upright as she crumpled into his side.
Tears blurred her vision, and through them, she looked up at Sorin, whose expression held a quiet grief. Though he was only a child back then, his affection for his uncle had been real.
She managed to choke out, “W-what does this mean?”
"Shh," Sorin soothed her, bending to pick up the letter and carefully slipping it into her book. “Not here, not now. Let’s get home, then we can talk.”
She nodded, her lips trembling as tears spilled over. Sorin gently wiped them away, wrapped an arm around her waist, and guided her out of the room. They descended the stairs quietly, moving toward the exit.
Just as they reached the door, her mother’s shrill voice called after them, “Leaving already? You haven’t stayed for lunch.”
Sorin’s jaw clenched tightly. Murderous woman, he thought, before turning to face her with a forced smile. “I’d rather have lunch alone with my wife. Thanks.” With that, he steered Drea out the door.
Once they were safely away, he pulled the car to a stop by the side of the road, dropping his head against the steering wheel. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
A soft touch settled over his hand, gripping the wheel tightly. Lifting his head, he found Drea’s gaze, shimmering with unshed tears as she tried to hold them back.
“D-do you… think this could really be true?” Her voice trembled with uncertainty.
He reached for the book and retrieved the letter, directing her gaze to its signature. “Look, he signed it. If we can track down some old documents he might’ve signed, we’ll have proof.” He paused, deep in thought. “Dad must have something lying around.” A loud groan escaped him as he pinched the bridge of his nose, tears gathering in his eyes. “Why did my uncle have to be so reckless? He could’ve at least confided in my father and asked for his help! Damn it!”
Drea intertwined her fingers with his, offering a comforting squeeze. “We… we don’t really know what was going on back then…”
A sob erupted from him. “I loved him so much, Drea. I don’t remember everything, but I know I did. To learn he met such a tragic end…”
Leaning forward, Drea rested her forehead against his bicep, weeping alongside him. He lowered his chin onto her head, tears streaming down his cheeks as they sought solace in one another’s embrace.
After several moments, he wiped his eyes and said, “Call Adrian. Tell him to meet us at home.”
Drea nodded as Sorin drove away. When they arrived, Adrian sat at the dining table, his head bowed and hands gripping his hair in despair, the letter sprawled before him.
Taking a seat beside him, Drea wrapped her arm around him, offering comfort while Sorin stood back, his mind racing as he contemplated their next steps. Grief could wait; justice for his uncle was their immediate priority, and Sorin vowed he wouldn’t rest until it was served.
Suddenly, Adrian shot up from his seat, his eyes bloodshot and wild. He pulled out his pistol from the holster at his waist, making Drea gasp softly in shock.
“That’s it! That woman is going to pay today. I’ve tolerated her long enough!” He growled, striding toward the door. Drea grasped his wrist, desperately trying to halt him.
“Adrian, no!”
But he wrenched his arm free, making his way to the front door, only to be forcefully stopped by Sorin. “Don’t be an idiot!”
“Get out of my way, Sorin!” Adrian gritted his teeth, rage radiating from him.
“Think this through, Adrian! It’s no surprise your uncle didn’t want you to find the letter first. Just calm down!” Sorin shouted.
“That monster killed my father! How can I possibly calm down?!” Adrian roared back, fury blazing in his eyes.
“Consider your wife, your children, and your sister! Do you want to throw everything away for revenge, spending the rest of your life locked up?”
Sorin’s words finally pierced through Adrian’s anger. He stood there, breathing heavily, the flames of his rage slowly being doused by despair. Tears threatened to spill again, and it pained Sorin to witness his brother, his best friend, in such agony. He yearned to embrace him, to offer comfort, but held back.
Drea stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Adrian and gently rubbing his back, hoping to soothe his turmoil.
She will pay for what she has done.
The next couple of weeks were nothing short of chaotic.
Emerson Grant wasn’t just an ordinary man; he was a prominent figure in the business arena, having clawed his way to the top through sheer determination. When the shocking revelation emerged that his death, which occurred two decades ago, was a murder, the world went into a frenzy.
Uncovering the truth and bringing justice to light was no simple feat, but with wealth and influence on their side, the process became a bit more manageable.
Sorin’s father nearly fainted upon hearing the news, yet he proved invaluable in helping with the investigation.
Watching Vivian being led away in handcuffs by the authorities brought Sorin a fleeting sense of satisfaction, quickly eclipsed by the sight of Drea burying her face against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. He kissed the top of her head, whispering, “It’s going to be alright, mi amor. Everything will be okay.”
Once they arrived home, Sorin prepared lunch for Drea, who hadn’t eaten a single bite since morning. As she sank into the couch in the living room, he knelt before her, offering a plate piled high with fried rice.
“Please, Drea, just eat a little. Don’t make yourself sick,” he pleaded, holding a spoonful toward her lips.
She gazed at her husband, the one who had comforted her through countless tears, who had bathed her, dressed her, and tended to her every need when she lacked the strength to do so herself.
Now, he knelt before her, offering sustenance without a hint of resentment. His every action stemmed from pure, unconditional love.
Reluctant to let his efforts go unappreciated, Drea opened her mouth, and he fed her, a small smile dancing on his lips.
“Did you have lunch?” she inquired.
“I’ll eat after I make sure you do,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she took the plate from him. “You need to eat too. Go get yourself something.”
With a playful grin, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before complying with her request.
They settled side by side, enjoying their meal in silence. Once the plates were empty and resting on the coffee table, Drea wrapped her arms around Sorin’s neck and kissed him, causing his heart to race.
As their lips met, he returned her affection, enveloping her waist with his arms and pulling her into his lap. He leaned back, surrendering himself to her kiss, reveling in her desire. He loved to be in control, but for her, he would gladly relinquish that power. He would give up everything just to see her smile.
With her hands cradling his face, she kissed him with fervor, and he parted his lips to welcome her.
Their tongues danced together, and Sorin moaned into her mouth, urging her to deepen the kiss. Her fingers wove through his hair, tugging gently as she lost herself in him.
After a breathless moment, she pulled back, and he whispered against her lips, “What was that for?”
“I love you,” she replied, her sincerity making him beam.
Drawing her in for another kiss, he whispered back, “I love you too, mi amor.” She rested her head on his shoulder, cherishing the warmth of his embrace—her sanctuary.
Later that day, Drea and Adrian knelt before their father’s grave while Sorin stepped back, granting them a moment of solitude.
Though he still struggled to communicate with Adrian, he missed him deeply—his brother, his best friend. They had shared a childhood full of memories.
When Drea and Adrian finally rose, Sorin set aside his pride and approached Adrian.
Watching curiously, Drea feared another conflict would arise, but to her surprise, Sorin merely stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Adrian, holding him tightly.
His head rested on Adrian’s shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut, fearing the moment would shatter.
“I’m sorry,” Sorin murmured softly. “Please forgive me. I want us to be brothers again.”
About time, Drea thought to herself, smiling at the scene unfolding before her.
When Adrian didn’t reciprocate the embrace, Sorin began to pull away, only for Adrian to finally envelop him in a hug.
“I’m sorry too, little brother. I’m sorry for running away and never coming back. I never meant to hurt you. I always loved you, and I still do. You were my only brother. How could I not?”
“I was there for all your milestones,” Adrian continued. “From the day you were born to your first steps. I wanted to be there as you grew, but my foolishness kept me away, and I missed so much.”
“Don’t you dare run away again, or I swear I’ll take you down myself,” Sorin warned, tears brimming in his eyes.
Chuckling, Adrian pulled back and kissed Sorin’s forehead. “Never again. I promise.”
Drea wiped the happy tears from the corners of her eyes, grateful for their reconciliation.
“Thank goodness,” she said, stepping closer to Adrian, who playfully rolled his eyes, earning a light smack on the shoulder.
“You better take good care of my sister,” Adrian warned Sorin.
“I will,” Sorin promised, his gaze filled with affection for Drea, causing her to blush.
“Speaking of which…” Adrian chimed in. “How about dinner at my place tomorrow? Just like old times—with our parents too. What do you think?”
With a warm smile, Adrian pulled them both into a group hug. “Sounds just like the good old days.”
Epilogue
✨ Sorin's POV ✨
Months later...
"Sorin!" Drea whined, her bottom lip jutting out in a cute pout. "I’m exhausted! Can we take a break?"
She had asked for my help with a subject that was giving her trouble, but it had turned into a bit of a challenge. Once I switched into teacher mode, I demanded her full attention, and Drea was feeling the strain.
“Drea, your finals are just around the corner. We can’t afford to slack off,” I replied, glancing at the clock. “We’ve only been at it for forty minutes!”
“And for the last forty minutes, you’ve been so strict!” she complained. “I’m glad you didn’t choose teaching as a career, or your students would have run for the hills.”
I frowned. “That’s not true.”
“It absolutely is.” She tried to stand, but I swiftly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into her chair.
“No, you’re not going anywhere. We finish this topic first, then you can take a break.” I scolded her gently.
She gave me an adorably defiant pout, and I couldn’t help but think that if she didn’t have finals looming, I would whisk her off to bed and worship her all night long.
“Can I bribe you with a kiss?” she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
“Maybe...” I teased.
Her eyes sparkled, and leaning closer, she cupped my face and pressed her lips to mine. I smiled against her mouth before deepening the kiss, but I knew I had to pull away before I lost control.
“Okay, break time!” she declared with newfound enthusiasm.
“No, we’re not.”
“What?! But—”
I shrugged playfully. “I said maybe…”
She shot me a glare. “You’re so cruel! Ugh! I hate you!”
Leaning in, I placed a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. “We’ll see about that later.” With a smirk, I resumed my teaching, much to her dismay.
After about ten minutes, I noticed the exhausted look on her face as she struggled to focus on the book before her. I decided to ease up.
“Alright. Now that we’ve covered this topic, read through it once and explain it back to me. Then you can take as long a break as you want,” I told her.
“Really?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Absolutely.”
With a bright smile, she started to read while I watched her in silence, feeling a swell of pride for how far she’d come in the last few months. Drea was fierce, though it had often been masked by her insecurities. With a little love and support, that hidden strength was finally emerging.
After much encouragement, I had suggested she see a therapist to help her navigate the trauma she’d endured. It was a decision I’d never regret.
She had come a long way since then; while she sometimes stumbled over her words when I teased her, it was no longer a constant struggle. Her self-consciousness faded, replaced by a growing confidence.
She excelled in her studies, and I could already see the bright future that awaited her.
My home had transformed into a true sanctuary, filled with laughter and warmth. Every day, someone awaited my return, ready to share dinner, joy, and even burdens—my wife.
"I'm done—" she began, only to halt mid-sentence as she caught me staring. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
“Like what?”
“Like you’re proud of me.”
“Because I am,” I replied with a genuine smile.
With a playful flick to my nose, she lifted her hand, and I seized her wrist, pulling her onto my lap.
Warning: Mature Content Ahead...
She gently placed her hands on my shoulders, straddling me, and as she leaned in, our lips met in a passionate embrace.
Responding with equal fervor, she melted into the kiss, and I felt the urge to hold her tighter around her waist.
"I thought we were supposed to be studying," she murmured softly as my lips began to explore her neck, leaving a trail of affectionate marks.
I hummed against her skin, eliciting a gentle whimper, and with a swift motion, I lifted her in my arms, carrying her to the comfort of the bed.
As I lay her down, I positioned myself over her, capturing her lips in a deep and intense kiss, her fingers twining in my hair, sending shivers down my spine.
Pulling back slightly, I showered kisses along her neck, pausing to inquire, "Who is complicit in a misdeed?"
"W-what?!" she exclaimed in surprise.
With a gentle suction at the base of her neck, I repeated, "Answer me, my love."
She bit her lip, struggling to contain a moan as my kisses edged closer to her cleavage. "Sorin...are you being serious right now?"
My hand tenderly found its way to her breast, applying a gentle pressure. "Deadly serious."
Silence lingered briefly before I shifted her onto her stomach, delivering a light spank that left her gasping.
Leaning in closely, I whispered by her ear, "Who is complicit in a misdeed?" Each unanswered question resulted in a chastisement.
Her breath grew heavier, hands clutching the sheets tightly as she mumbled, "An accomplice...assists in a crime without direct involvement...Accomplices typically receive lesser penalties than the main offender..."
Gently lifting her dress and easing down her undergarments, I comforted the area with my touch. "Well done. Now, who is the main offender?"
Her silence filled the room, broken only by her heavy breathing. With a final spank, she let out a moan, clearly enjoying the interaction.
"W-wait! I... remember...the perpetrator...is directly engaged in a...crime..." she managed to say between breaths. "Sorin, please."
As a gesture of encouragement, I ran my hand between her legs, feeling her undeniable arousal.
With her face buried in the bed, she mumbled, "Oh God."
Drawing close to her ear, I couldn't help but remark, "You seem to be relishing this, don't you?"
Gently tightening my grip on her neck, I interrupted, "Another query. How many categories of perpetrators exist?" Simultaneously, my finger slipped inside her, prompting a passionate moan.
"T-two," she gasped as I inserted an additional finger, feeling her tighten around them as her desire heightened.
"One final question. Enlighten me on the two types of perpetrators."
As I increased the pace of my fingers, her responses became breathier, reflecting her growing desire and pleasure.
She moaned as I delivered a gentle slap. "Wrong answer, my love. Provide the correct response, and you will be rewarded."
"In the first degree, the prime offender is the one who commits the crime..." she managed to articulate amidst the escalating pleasure. "The second-degree perpetrator or accomplice aids, advises, and advocates for the principal's actions."
Impressed by her knowledge, I grasped her hair gently, tilting her head back to shower kisses along her ear. Simultaneously, my fingers maintained a steady rhythm inside her, driving her towards the brink of ecstasy.
"Please," she pleaded, her climax imminent. With deliberate movements, I intensified my touch, bringing her to the peak of pleasure until she screamed my name in ecstasy.
Following her release, I withdrew my fingers, offering them to her lips. As she obediently sucked on them, I proceeded to unbuckle my belt, signaling that our intimate encounter was far from over.
I embraced her in the warmth of the bathtub, her body nestled against mine as I leaned back, the water enveloping us in tranquility.
With a contented sigh, she shifted to rest her head on my chest, my fingers tenderly caressing her hair.
"You seem weary," I bantered. "We have dinner at Adrian's place in a couple of hours."
Nuzzling closer, she closed her eyes, seeking comfort in our embrace.
"It doesn't sound like you're eager to go..."
"Can we reschedule?"
"Hmm...alright. I'll inform Adrian that his sister is worn out after an intense moment of passion—"
Playfully, she playfully hit my shoulder, a blush tingeing her cheeks. "You wouldn't dare!"
I smirked. "Are you daring me?"
Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Stop it. Don't joke like that, he's my brother for heaven's sake! And your cousin as well, how could you embarrass him like that?!"
"Well...he's also my closest companion, and friends share everything..." I casually remarked.
"Nothing of that sort! Even friends have boundaries when it comes to family."
"Alright, alright, I won't mention a thing."
"Good. And we'll go, I just need a moment to recuperate."
"Sure thing." I planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"And please, no more of those distractions while I try to answer your inquiries..." She blushed. "...while you do...what you do."
"You enjoyed it though."
She hesitated. "Well...um...regardless. But I trust you don't engage in such antics with your other students, right? I doubt it."
I brushed my lips against hers. "Reserved exclusively for my beloved wife, the light of my life."
She leaned in, embracing me tightly. "I adore you, Sorin."
"I adore you even more, Drea." And I met her lips with mine.
I doubt we'll make it to dinner.
🦋The End🦋
Completion Date: October 25th, 2024
Phew. Finally finished. Writing this story was a joy. A vague outline of this tale lingered in my thoughts for nearly a year, purely for my entertainment, a bedtime escape. Yet, I decided to pen it down, and I'm thrilled I did. To me, it turned out exceptionally well.
Thank you to all who read and supported it, your love means the world to me!
And no, I won't be writing Atlas and Harlow's story. For some reason, I lack the desire to do so, so kindly refrain from requesting it. However, a bonus chapter for them may come later on.
Once again, thank you. It's been a beautiful journey, and I look forward to sharing more tales with you in the future. God Bless You All!
✨Farewell, friends! ✨
