CHAPTER 18
1465 Words
—Madeline—
Ice flooded my veins. All my anxiety came rushing back as I shut the door behind me before facing him again, the key feeling heavy in my pocket.
“I went for a walk.”
Androa sat perfectly still. A picture of a man who had all the time in the world. One hand resting on my pillow. And the other tapping slowly against his knee.
Silence stretched between us.
“A walk? By this time?”
“I didn’t realize anyone was waiting for me,” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded as I crossed the room toward the vanity. Desperate to put distance between us. Terrified he might catch Dominic's scent on me.
“And shouldn't you be with your mistress?”
Androa sighed.
“I knew this is where your attitude is coming from.”
My brows furrowed.
“Where?”
He stood and approached me. “You're jealous that I'm giving Elisa a great deal of my attention.”
I moved in the other direction. “You really think that’s the problem?”
“What else could it be?”
“It’s the disrespect, Androa. You treat this marriage like a transaction, not something you’re actually part of.”
“The problem is that you expect loyalty from me while offering me none in return.” I folded my arms on my chest. “Do you know what the worst part is? You don’t even try to hide it anymore.”
“Do you blame me?” He stopped walking. “Do you know how hard it is pretending not to notice the difference between you and her?”
The words should’ve destroyed me.
Instead. All I could think was the way Dominic looked at me like I was something worth losing control over.
My laugh came out hollow.
“It's true some men have poor taste.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You should’ve married her instead.”
“Come here,” Androa said quietly.
I didn’t move.
His jaw tightened.
“I’m your husband, Madeline.”
“And you already have Elisa.”
Something dangerous flashed across his face.
“Do you think this is a game?” He took another step toward me. “You don’t get to deny me affection while acting jealous every time I look at another woman.”
My pulse stuttered.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Then prove it.”
My stomach twisted.
“Androa—”
“Come here.”
I stayed rooted in place. “Please, don't do this.”
He grabbed a flower vase and hurled it to the wall. The crash rippled through the room. His chest rose. Hard.
“You push me too far sometimes,” he muttered.
I stared at the shattered glass scattered across the floor, my heartbeat pounding unevenly in my ears.
A knock rapped on my door.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Morvanti?” a masculine voice called.
Androa drew a deep breath. “Everything is fine. My wife and I were just having a disagreement,” he said, and gave me a long look.
“Remember whose name you wear. Don’t test how far my patience goes.”
My eyes landed on my ring. All of a sudden, it felt too heavy.
Androa adjusted his shirt and opened the door. A man stood in the doorway—familiar; the one I had seen speaking with Dominic.
Marco, I thought.
His gaze flicked between us, unreadable.
“Are you alright?” he asked me, after Androa had left.
I forced a smile though still shaken from everything.
He nodded and turned to his comm.
Within seconds, servants hurried into the room and cleaned up the mess. They placed the flowers in a new vase and left. Silence settled again.
“Do you want me to fetch Dominic?”
My eyes widened.
He knew about our little escapades.
Of course.
He was Dominic's right-hand man.
I rubbed my temple. The last thing I wanted was to plant strife between a father and his son.
“Dominic must never know of tonight.” I straightened. “Can you do that for me?”
He blinked like he was deciding where his loyalty lied. The moment he averted his gaze, I knew. Dominic.
“I want to tell him myself,” I added. “Please—”
He stared at me for a beat too long, then nodded.
I shut the door and felt hollow. No joy. No sadness. Just numbness as I stared at the haunting reality of my marriage in the new flower vase.
Broken to be replaced.
I slid under the covers and glanced at my ring, swallowing the urge to toss it away. I tried to sleep but failed.
Tossed around the bed until the sun rose into the sky, yet I still lacked the zeal to move.
Someone knocked on my door. I opened and there was nobody, except for a white box lying on the floor.
I brought the box into my room before opening it.
Inside was a neatly folded underwear Dominic had stolen from me yesterday. Beside it rested a single note written in clean masculine strokes that somehow felt more dangerous than messy handwriting ever could.
Little Bird,
I haven’t stopped thinking about the way you looked beneath my hands, the way you wore his ring all through dinner while looking at me like temptation.
Tonight, don’t run from what you want. I want the version of you that stops pretending.
Meet me tonight. No lies. No performances.
Dom.
My face reddened when I lifted the next piece from the box.
A cobalt blue bodysuit with sheer floral lace and satin boning. Structured cups. Delicate double straps.
Had he expected me to wear that?
The shame came first. The wanting followed right behind it. No decent woman should ache this much for something so wrong.
I wanted to throw it away. I wanted to lock my door and try it on immediately.
The worst part was that I was already imagining how his eyes would look on me inside it, his tall frame towering over me, claiming me while I still wore it.
Heat unfurled between my thighs.
I dropped it, my whole body trembling, breath uneven. All my life, I had never worn something like that—
Why had my mind already abandoned the humiliation of last night for the promise of tonight?
I let out a groan. Gathered everything back into the box, and went into the bathroom.
The mansion buzzed with activity once again.
I made my way to the dining room. And I was the last person at the table.
Dominic sent me a knowing smile.
I had barely settled into my chair when both Dominic and Androa’s phones vibrated almost simultaneously before Dominic excused himself from the table.
Androa followed later.
The happy-family act was over.
So I quietly pushed back my chair and stepped into the corridor, already thinking about tonight.
“Madeline,” someone called.
Elisa.
I slowed and turned to face her. “Hello.”
She stopped a few feet away from me, her brows pinched with concern, whether fake or genuine.
“How are you?”
“I'm good, Elisa. If you don't mind I have something important—”
“I saw what happened last night," she cut in. “Androa should never have been violent with you.”
“Elisa, I don't think you're in the right position to play concerned now. Not after sleeping with my husband.”
She ignored the jab. “You still don’t believe I’m the only one in this mansion who truly has your back.”
“Yes. And stabbed it.”
Movement outside the estate caught my attention.
I shifted my gaze as a fleet of black SUVs rolled into the driveway near the corporate headquarters and men in tailored suits emerged.
The man in the lead, a silver-haired figure who looked like he had been carved from granite, bypassed Androa entirely. He stopped in front of Dominic and shook him with both hands.
Like a servant meeting his master.
Dominic didn't smile.
He simply stood there, absorbing their deference with a terrifyingly natural grace that unsettled me.
Elisa walked past, tone low.
“The worst thing about the Morvantis isn’t what they do. It’s how normal they make it feel.”
She blew me a kiss and disappeared into a corridor. The men outside were gone— except for their bodyguards patrolling the place.
I hurried to my room and slammed the door after me.
Something was definitely going on in this family, and I planned to unravel it.
My eyes landed on the box.
And the bodysuit inside.
- Writer
