CHAPTER 11
1312 Words
—Madeline—
“What do you want?” I asked.
Elisa.
She didn’t answer.
She closed the door behind her and walked further into the room.
No rushing. No anger.
That was worse.
Her gaze drifted lazily over everything. My suitcase. The vanity. The bed—as though she were inspecting something she intended to keep.
“I just came to check on you,” she spoke at last.
My fingers clenched at my sides.
“How thoughtful.”
Her smile deepened—just a fraction.
“It must have been suffocating for you in this mansion... To have no one to talk to.”
“Elisa, it’s one thing to pretend to care.”
“Oh, I do.” She turned around and faced me, a hand poised in the air. “It must've been a lonely night.”
“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.
“Androa. Did you wait up for him?”
“Elisa—”
She touched her chest. “I'm your friend, remember?”
“Are you?”
She strolled to the desk. “You know I am. Or why else would I be here?” She ran her fingers on the surface. “Don't tell me you're jealous he spent your wedding night with me.”
Something sharp twisted in my chest.
I held her gaze.
“Me? Jealous of a mistress?”
“You're dying for his love. His attention.” She grinned. “You're too old for him.”
“You came all the way here to tell me that?”
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “Eventually. Androa is only addicted to one woman. And that's me.”
She searched my face for a crack.
I gave her none.
It was one thing to take my husband and another to come to my room and insult me.
“Elisa...” I let out a breath. “If that’s all—”
“No.”
She turned away from me and walked to the window. Heels clicking on the floor. Her perfume cloying after her.
“I would like to suggest something,” she whispered.
My brows furrowed.
“Why should I take your suggestion?”
“It would benefit us both.”
She folded her arms, eyes raking me slowly— as if calculating how best to deliver her next words.
“Keep your distance from Androa’s bed. Fake a headache, an illness— whatever. Allow me to remain the primary object of his desire.”
She took a step closer. “And in exchange, I promise to keep you safe.”
My stomach twisted.
It was a direct insult to my marriage, framing me as nothing more than a shield for her affair with Androa.
“Protect me? From what?”
“The vultures, Madeline.”
“What vultures?”
She burst into laughter. It vibrated the walls.
“You clearly have no idea, do you?” she hissed. “How deep this family runs.”
Something outside caught my attention.
A fleet of black Cadillacs rolled into the driveway. Like a funeral procession. Men in black suits and dark glasses stepped out.
Androa and Dominic moved to meet them on the gravel. Their handshakes were firm, more military than corporate.
Nothing about this made sense anymore.
Androa's company was into luxury and tech. Or could there be something else they weren’t telling me?
What exactly had I married into?
And why did it feel like I was already in too deep to walk away?
“You’re new here,” Elisa continued. “Men like him… they get bored. And when they do, they look for weakness.”
“And you?” I asked. “You’re offering protection out of kindness?”
“We don’t have to be enemies, Madeline.”
I glanced out the window again. The cars were still in the driveway, but the men were gone.
“Think about my proposal,” Elisa said, already reaching for the door. “Just don't take too long.” She walked out my room and shut the door after her.
My gaze flicked back to the window.
There was certainly a lot going on in this family. And I planned to uncover it all.
I grabbed my coat in the closet and headed out.
Security stopped me before the west wing, where the corporate HQ building stood. I had no intention of making a scene, hence I turned and hurried past the chapel for the tea house. Just the view I needed.
I ordered tea. Sipped the warm drink as I studied the building.
An hour passed. Nothing.
One of the kitchen staff approached with my lunch; a three-course meal, mouthwatering. But not enough to divert my attention.
I kept glancing at the building and kaboom.
There they were.
The men emerged from the building and shook hands with Androa. When they moved to Dominic, they bowed.
No, that wasn’t right.
Was it?
My heart pounded.
I turned back to my dessert as the guests stepped into their cars. They drove out of the estate in a single file.
Androa left first.
Dominic hesitated. He scanned the place, his eyes locking on the tea house as though knowing I was in there.
A bead of sweat glided down my back.
I reached for my glass of water, and when I looked up again, he was talking with the hefty man.
Then they headed away.
That night, I focused on my plate during dinner. I could feel his eyes on me— raking me slowly, burning me.
Elisa was back to her theatrics.
She offered Androa spoonfuls of her soup, then dabbed at his lips even though there were no stains.
I excused myself from the table and retired in my room.
No. I wasn't angry.
It had only been twenty-four hours in this mansion yet everything was already suffocating.
A dramatic mistress to my left. A cheating husband to my right. And a stepson keeping tabs on me like a predator—one I couldn’t stop craving.
I stopped before the vanity, stripped, and walked to the bathroom.
The water was warm... soothing, exactly what I needed after a long day. My fingers drifted to the heat between my legs and I was back in the hallway this morning.
I could feel his breath against my neck. Hear his husky voice.
Little Bird.
A moan slipped from my lips.
My fingers moved— slow, regular circles that ignited a fire in my nerves.
My back arched.
I slipped a finger. Made it two and drove into my throbbing core.
“Dominic.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth as a violent tremor ripped through me. My body quavered under the water, my breath ragged.
No.
Did I just masturbate to the thoughts of my stepson?
My p***y still clenching around my fingers held the answer. He was right— it was the fire inside me people should be afraid of.
Back in the room, I applied lotion and stepped into a silk nightdress. Just as I finished combing my hair, a knock rapped on the door.
Elisa? Or a housekeeper sent to help with my evening bath?
“Come in.”
The door opened and my husband walked in.
“Androa.” I gasped.
“You left early at dinner,” he rasped.
“I–I was exhausted. I wanted to retire early.”
He shut the door after him. “I understand I haven't been a good husband.” He walked to me and pulled me into his arms. “I'm here to make it up to you.”
My eyes widened.
“What are you talking about?”
He let go and began to unbutton his shirt.
“It's our honeymoon, cara. We need to consummate our marriage.”
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