Her face was inches from mine. Close enough to see a tiny speck of glitter on her lashes. Close enough to feel her breath on my lips. Fuck the rules. Fuck the setting. Fuck everyone watching.
I crushed my mouth to hers.
"Mmph—!"
Her eyes went wide with shock, body trying to retreat, but my hand cupped the back of her head. She had nowhere to go. The kiss was brutal—punishment, marking, claiming. I ground against her soft lips, pried her teeth apart, took her breath like I owned it. She still tasted the same—orange blossom and a hint of mint. Sweet as hell.
I needed everyone to know. Natalie was mine.
Time seemed to stop. I heard gasps, felt countless eyes and camera flashes focused on us. But I didn't stop.
Not until her body went soft, her fingers clutching my shirt shifting from pushing me away to holding on. Only then did I pull back slightly. My lips stayed close to hers, close enough that every breath she took brushed my mouth. Her eyes were hazy, her lips swollen from my bite, lipstick probably smeared everywhere.
I looked into those blue eyes, saw myself reflected there.
Then I scooped her up. She yelped, instinctively wrapping her arms around my neck. I carried her out of the ballroom in long strides and put her in my car.
"Why did you block me?" My voice went cold, cold enough to unsettle even myself. "Why did you throw out all my stuff?"
She didn't answer. Just bit her lip and glared at me, chin tilted up defiantly.
"Natalie, what the hell are you trying to do?"
Still nothing.
"You'd rather laugh and talk with other men than speak to me?" My patience was stretched to its limit, about to snap."You like being surrounded by men that much? Or do you think someone like Carl can help you get away from me?"
Her lashes trembled.
"Don't even think about it," I said.
That finally got to her. She whipped her head toward me, eyes red.
"Richard, what right do you have to lecture me?" She sucked in a breath, voice harder now. "I saw you kissing Olivia at the restaurant. You did that, and I'm not even allowed to talk to a man?"
I froze. So that was it.
"I didn't kiss her." I took a deep breath. "What you saw must have been the angle. There's nothing between me and Olivia."
Natalie stared at me. She looked like she was about to cry, but no tears came. Eventually, she didn't say anything else, just turned to look out the window. That silence was more aggravating than any argument. The whole drive back to the apartment, neither of us spoke.
When we got back, Natalie went straight to the bedroom. I stood in the middle of the living room, looking at this space she'd cleaned out—spotless but colder and emptier than ever. For the first time, I felt something close to helplessness.
The stuff she'd thrown out didn't matter. But her attitude, her silence—it tangled around my brain like a knot I couldn't untie.
I pulled out my phone and made a call. It rang for a long time before someone picked up.
"Hello? Richard? Did the sun rise in the west? You're calling me at this hour?" Background noise from Nick's end—music and women's laughter.
"Nick." I rubbed my aching temple, ignoring his teasing and getting straight to it. "Natalie and I are in a cold war. How do I fix it?"
Silence for two seconds. The music seemed to dim. Then Nick burst out laughing, the sound full of disbelief.
"Jesus, Richard, you're calling me in the middle of the night to ask how to make up with your ex-wife?" He paused, laughter fading but sarcasm intensifying. "Seriously, man, a woman who only knows how to nod and smile at galas, make polite small talk—she's not worth the trouble. You can have any woman you want. Olivia's a solid choice..."
"Nick." I cut him off, tone carrying a clear warning. I didn't like how he talked about Natalie—that dismissive way of treating her like some meaningless accessory. Even if I'd thought similarly once, hearing it from someone else now was particularly grating. "I didn't ask for your opinion of Natalie. I asked what to do."
Silence on the other end. Nick's tone became slightly more serious. "What's hard about dealing with someone like Natalie? Give her a credit card, buy some jewelry, or create some small problem for her father—she'll come running back. Girls from families like hers know how to calculate advantages. As for the cold war? She just wants more attention. Say some sweet things and you're golden."
