Page 32 of His Demands

"We should rectify that soon," I add, a genuine smile playing on my lips. "You should come see where you'll be living, get a feel for the place. It's quite different from your apartment, I can assure you."

Julie nods, her eyes alight with interest. "I'd like that. It'll be a big change, but I'm starting to think that change can be a good thing."

"My place is quite plain," I admit, stirring my wine glass idly. "I've never been one for decorating. But as my wife, you're welcome to add your own touch, make it more homey."

Julie's eyes light up, sparkling with an enthusiasm that I find both endearing and unexpected. "Really? I get to decorate?" she asks, her voice tinged with excitement. "I can't wait to see it, to get an idea of what you already have and what I can add."

Her excitement is contagious, her words spilling out in a continuous stream of ideas and possibilities. I watch her, silently captivated by the vibrancy she exudes. It's a side of her I haven't seen before, one that's full of life and creativity.

I remain outwardly composed, my expression betraying none of the effect she's having on me. Yet inwardly, I'm struck by the beauty of her enthusiasm, the way it transforms her, bringing a new dimension to her personality.

It is both alarming and encouraging. I've always been in control, always had a plan. But with Julie, it's different. She's bringing something new into my life, something unexpected and, perhaps, something necessary.

The realization that I might be falling for her, that love could be part of our equation, is a revelation. It's a concept I'd dismissed, but now, in the light of her joy and the connection we're building, it seems not only possible, but inevitable.

The night culminates in a passionate encounter that eclipses all others we've shared. In the privacy of our cottage, with the ocean as our soundtrack, we explore each other with an intense and fiery fervor. It's a connection that's physical, emotional, and deeply intimate, a dance of desire and affection that leaves us both breathless and sated.

But as we lie there in the afterglow, the reality of our impending departure casts a shadow over the moment. I find myself wondering how our relationship will fare once we're back in the world we left behind. The ease and freedom we've found here, will it survive the pressures and expectations of our everyday lives?

It's a dynamic that's bound to be fraught with challenges and complexities. But as I look at Julie, sleeping peacefully in my arms, I can't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe what we've built here can withstand the trials of the real world. Maybe, against all odds, we can find a way to make this work.

I hold Julie close, feeling a sense of protectiveness and affection that's new and somewhat unsettling. This arrangement, which started as a practical solution, has evolved into something so much more, something I hadn't anticipated.

As we prepare to leave this paradise behind, I'm faced with the realization that what we've started here is only the beginning.

Chapter 20

Julie

My jaw nearly hits the floor as the car pulls up in front of the Upper West Side brownstone Ivan calls home.

This place isn’t just a house; it’s a freaking monument. The classic brownstone facade is impeccably maintained, with ivy trailing up the sides, giving it an old-world charm that’s rare in the city. It’s like something out of a movie.

Ivan leads me inside, and I'm instantly struck by the sheer size of the place. The entryway alone could fit my entire apartment. High ceilings, polished hardwood floors, and an elegant staircase that spirals upward greet me. It's all so grand, I half-expect a butler to appear and take my coat.

But as we walk through the rooms, something odd catches my attention. Most of them are empty. No furniture, no artwork, nothing. The living room is a wide, open area with large windows that flood the space with light, but there's not a single couch or coffee table in sight.

I turn to Ivan, unable to hide my confusion. “So, uh, where’s all your stuff?” I ask, gesturing to the barren room.

He shrugs, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I only use the bedroom, office, and kitchen. Never saw the point in filling up the rest."

I blink, trying to process this. Here's a man with one of the most beautiful homes I've ever seen, and he's living in it like it's a bachelor pad, less than a bachelor pad, actually. "Ivan, this place has so much potential! It's like a blank canvas begging for an artist.”

He laughs at my dramatics, clearly amused by my horror. “Well, if you’re so keen on it, I have something that might interest you.” He fishes a credit card out of his pocket and hands it to me. It has my name on it.

“This is for you,” he says. “There’s a bank account set up in your name. Go wild with the furniture shopping. Turn this into a home you’ll be comfortable in."

For a moment, I'm speechless, the card heavy in my hand. Then, a grin spreads across my face. I start walking through the rooms again, this time with a new sense of purpose. I can already picture a plush sofa here, a stylish coffee table there, maybe some modern art on the walls.

"This could be fun," I admit, excitement bubbling up inside me. "I get to decorate your house?"

He nods, watching me with an indulgent look. "Our house," he corrects gently. "And yes, decorate to your heart’s content.”

The word 'our' sends a warm tingle through me. Our house. It's a strange and thrilling thought. I spin around in the empty living room, my mind racing with ideas. "Well, prepare to be amazed. I've got some serious Pinterest boards to consult."

Ivan chuckles, his eyes following me as I dart from one room to another, the wheels spinning in my head. "I have no doubt," he says, leaning against the doorway. "Just promise me one thing."

I pause, looking back at him. "What's that?"

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