CHAPTER 14
1309 Words
—Madeline—
The sound of his voice slid down my spine like sin. Heat spread so fast through my chest that my breath caught.
I glanced at the servants and was grateful they were occupied in the corner. None of them had heard him.
Twenty-four hours.
He had vanished from the mansion without a trace—only to reappear like nothing happened.
Calm composure.
Aviator glasses.
Black shirt.
And that knowing smile capable of unraveling me in seconds. Relief and shame coiled in my chest.
How could I be this excited to see my stepson?
He pulled out his chair and sat.
“What? Cat got your tongue?”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” I said, my voice a whisper, eyes flicking to the servants.
He removed his glasses. “What?”
“Little Bir—”
I stopped myself.
I hated how the name rolled off my tongue… how my body reacted to it. Like a brand my skin recognized instantly.
“Your body likes it more than your mouth does.”
“You're insufferable!” I spat.
He laughed— the sound low and soothing. It stirred something deep in my stomach and briefly drew the attention of the servants.
“Where have you been?”
His smile faltered.
The chair creaked as he leaned back, exactly the moment a servant approached with his coffee, setting it down quietly on the table.
“Business.”
“What kind of busi—?”
“Dominic.”
Androa's voice cut through the moment like glass. He appeared at the door. Not alone. His mistress slithered in behind him, smugness written all over her face.
They crossed the floor and took their seats, the heavy chairs scraping softly against the stone.
I could almost taste the tension in the air.
“Interesting timing, son.” Androa sighed. “You return the moment the house starts getting lively again.”
“Quite a coincidence, isn't it?” Dominic drawled.
Father and son exchanged knowing glances.
The room went silent, the only sound the soft clink of china as the servants moved among us. I lifted my spoon to my lips and met his gaze.
Dominic leaned back, his lethal calm pinning me in place while I took a slow bite.
Desire hit me so hard it was almost humiliating. I averted my gaze before I did something stupid.
Like what?Go over and kiss him?
“Hello Madeline,” Elisa sneered.
I met her gaze.
“Morning, Elisa.”
She picked up her coffee, eyes gleaming with fake sweetness.
“Hope you slept well last... night?”
There was something about the way she stretched the last word. Mocking. Triumphant. Like she enjoyed knowing I had spent the night alone.
“My night was great, Elisa. And yours?”
“The illness took a toll on me. But—” She placed a hand over Androa's on the table. “He stayed by my side, and not even once did he take his eyes off me.”
“Elisa.” Androa warned, withdrawing his hand.
“What?” She lowered her cup. “I'm just sharing how awesome you really are.”
Dominic’s fork hit the plate with a sharp clink.
“Enough!” Androa barked at Elisa.
He didn’t look at me with remorse. Instead, his attention was fixed on Dominic, as though pleasing him mattered more than anything.
More than saving our marriage.
My fingers tightened around my spoon. I lowered my gaze and willed myself to remain calm. I could feel everyone's eyes on me.
The atmosphere was nerve-wracking.
“How was your visit to the tailor yesterday, cara?” Androa finally spoke.
“Fine.” I still didn't look up. “She took my measurements and promised to have everything ready before the weekend.”
“Did she treat you like a Morvanti Lady?”
“She was nice.” My voice was clipped. Thin.
Then I met his gaze.
“My father came by yesterday.”
The statement caught him off guard. I noticed the way his brows twitched lightly, like he hadn't expected me to talk about it.
At least, not here.
Why?
Dominic tapped his finger slowly on the table, his eyes moving between us.
“Yeah. He called me,” he said, tone dismissive.
We ate in silence.
Another performance at the table.
I was already planning my exit when suddenly, Elisa gasped.
Her eyes were wide, as if she'd seen a ghost.
“Did you lose your ring, Madeline?”
Androa paused, his knife halfway through a piece of sausage.
He didn't look at Elisa—his gaze landed on my hand, his brows furrowing.
“Where's it?” he asked.
I knew exactly where the ring was and what I’d done after taking it off. It was still in my purse after I had removed it at the club.
What would become of me if the truth got out?
A forty-year-old bride got entangled with her stepson on her wedding night.
Dominic continued tapping his finger on the table, his expression dark and unreadable.
“I took it off while getting ready yesterday and forgot to put it back on.”
Androa sighed.
“That ring cost me a fortune. I would hate for it to be… misplaced.”
“But that’s strange,” Elisa murmured over her coffee. “A newly married woman usually never takes off her ring.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
“You removed the ring out of jealousy because Androa keeps choosing me over you.”
A chuckle escaped me at first. Then twisted into laughter that filled the hollow silence of the room.
The entire room froze. No one moved.
Not even the servants.
They must think I'd gone crazy. Or maybe I'd finally gone crazy after hours of suffocation in this mansion.
I sighed at last, and touched my chest.
“You’ve spent so many years as a footnote in this family that you’ve started believing your own fantasies.”
“If you’re that desperate, dear, try looking in a mirror. You’re the only thing in this room that doesn't belong.”
Dominic stilled across the table.
Elisa jerked back as if I'd driven a hot knife into her belly.
“Don't believe her, Androa,” she spat.
“Who should he believe? You? A mistress that's insecure and clueless?”
“I'm his lover!” she retorted.
“And I'm Mrs. Morvanti.”
A calm settled in the room.
Dominic pulled out a cigar, smiling.
Elisa turned to Androa.
“Say something. Rebuke her.”
“Go back to your food,” he muttered and turned back to his.
She pushed back the chair and stomped out of the room.
Through the window, I watched her climb into a car and drive out. Androa stepped away from the table and went after her in another car.
For the first time that morning, my appetite returned, and it had nothing to do with the food.
I was craving the man before me.
I lifted my eyes and met his.
They were as hungry as mine.
Maybe hungrier.
My heart pounded.
He didn't move. Not immediately. He didn't take his eyes off me either.
Dominic Morvanti lit his cigar with the kind of calmness that made my thighs press together.
One slow drag of that cigar and my thoughts turned dangerous.
My body betrayed me completely.
No.
This should be the part I run.
I didn't.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. As if he were reading my mind.
“I told you it's the fire in you people should look out for.”
My breath stuttered.
“Dominic.”
He puffed a smoke and turned to the servants.
“Leave us.”
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