Bride To Be
1090 Words
Kai
The jacuzzi is warm — not scalding, not lukewarm — just the way I like it. The steam curls lazily into the air, blurring the marble walls of the private bath. Dim amber lights glow along the edges of the room, reflecting off the rippling water.
Everything here is designed for comfort.
For control.
For indulgence.
The door slides open quietly, and the two models I ordered step in, right on time.
Both dressed in lacy red bikinis.
My favorite color.
The brunette moves first, slow and confident, stepping behind me as she slips her hands onto my shoulders. Her fingers glide down my back, kneading expertly. She knows what she's doing. They always do.
The blonde slips into the water beside me, her fingers tracing lazy circles against my chest before going down on me.
I tilt my head back, letting the tension drain from my muscles as her lips do wonders below.
This is supposed to relax me.
It's supposed to clear my mind.
But it doesn't.
Because somehow… my thoughts keep drifting back to her.
Celine.
There's nothing about her I would normally find attractive.
Her hair was unkempt, strands falling messily around her face like she couldn't be bothered to brush it properly. No makeup. No polished glamour. Her lips were cracked, pale, like she hadn't bothered to care for herself in years.
Her clothes… were worse.
Cheap fabric. Worn edges. The dress clung awkwardly to her body like it had been bought secondhand.
She looked like someone I'd never glance at twice.
Yet…
My jaw tightens slightly.
Her body flashes through my mind again.
The curve of her waist.
The softness of her hips.
The way her full breasts strained faintly against that faded grey dress.
Something about her lingers.
And I don't like it.
The brunette's fingers press harder into my shoulders, trying to draw my attention back. The blonde leans closer, her breath warm against my skin.
Still, my mind drifts.
Is it her scent?
I noticed it the moment she sat beside me in the limo.
Faint.
Suppressed.
But there.
I didn't want to dwell on it before.
Now I can't stop thinking about it.
She can't be a wolf.
I know every pack in New York.
Every alpha.
Every rogue.
Every hidden faction.
And she doesn't belong to any of them.
Could she be a rogue?
No.
Even rogues know who I am.
She didn't.
Her fear was too genuine.
Too raw.
Then what is she?
Who exactly is Celine?
I exhale slowly, irritation creeping into my chest.
I should be enjoying the two women trying their hardest to please me.
Not thinking about some lowlife girl locked upstairs.
If Nikolai hadn't betrayed me, none of this would be happening.
I wouldn't have killed him.
I wouldn't need an alibi.
And I definitely wouldn't be dealing with Celine.
“Hmmm….” I moan as the blonde girl increases her spread. She comes up for hair, choking not only on the water, but on my thick length. Lips swollen, face wet.
I drag her head down again, shoving her face harder and loving every second of it.
I close my eyes briefly, letting the sensation wash over me.
But the peace doesn't last.
"Get a room, would you."
The voice slices through the quiet.
My eyes snap open.
I don't turn around.
I don't need to.
I already know who it is.
I specifically made it clear that I was not to be disturbed.
But Lyle has never been good at following rules.
My jaw tightens, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
My wolf stirs faintly.
I push it down.
"Leave," I say calmly.
The blonde comes out of the water immediately, scrambling away from me. The brunette hesitates.
"But—"
My hand moves before she finishes.
I grab her by the neck, pushing her gently but firmly toward the edge of the jacuzzi. Her eyes widen as her fingers clutch at my wrist.
"But?" I repeat quietly.
She coughs, panic flashing across her face.
I release her.
She stumbles back, dragging the blonde with her as they hurry toward the exit without another word.
The door shuts.
Silence returns.
Lyle steps into view, hands tucked casually into his pockets, that familiar smug grin already on his face.
"That's not how you treat beautiful ladies," he says lazily.
"What do you want?" I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.
"Relax." He leans casually against a marble pillar. "This is why the others went on vacation. You're no fun at all. Yet somehow, I'm the only one who can tolerate you."
"What do you want, Lyle?" I repeat.
His smile fades slightly.
"I heard you brought in a girl," he says. "An ordinary human."
I don't respond.
"Are you insane?" he continues.
"No."
He studies me carefully now.
"Then why?"
"Nikolai's dead," I say simply.
His brows lift slightly.
"The police are going to use that opportunity to try to pin it on me. I need an alibi. A solid one."
"And she fits in how?"
"She saw me kill him."
He blinks.
"Okay…" he says slowly. "Threaten her. Make her give a statement. Why bring her here?"
"She's going to be my fake bride."
Silence falls.
Lyle stares at me.
"My newly wedded wife," I continue calmly, "who I spent a passionate night with when Nikolai died. No one disputes a wife."
"And she agreed?"
I finally look at him.
His expression is somewhere between disbelief and concern.
I rise from the water in one smooth motion. The droplets slide down my skin as I step out of the jacuzzi.
Lyle quickly looks away.
I reach for my robe, tying it loosely around my waist before glancing back at him.
"She will," I say calmly.
"Eventually."
I walk past him without another word.
The hallway outside is quiet.
Guards stand at attention as I move forward.
At the entrance, one of them straightens.
"Send the models back. And cancel the rest of my plans," I tell him casually.
But as I walk away, my mind drifts again.
Not to the blonde.
Not to the brunette.
Not to the pleasure filled night I just cancelled.
But to the girl upstairs.
Locked in one of my rooms.
Probably pacing.
Probably scared.
Probably stubborn.
A faint smirk pulls at my lips.
She'll break. And when she does…
She'll become my wife.
Even if it's only on paper.
Even if it's only temporary.
Because one way or another—
Celine belongs to me now.
- Writer
