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“If you’re going to write about a criminal in love, you need to go all out,” Zeno said one evening after we shared a plate of red velvet cake. “The hero should slice the fingers of the heroine’s enemy and send them to her as a love declaration.”
“That’s sick!”
“I would behead your enemies and deliver them to you on a silver platter.”
I scrunched my face. “I hope you’re joking.”
“I’m kidding.” He grinned mischievously when I narrowed my eyes. “Or…am I?”
Lately, my friends also liked to joke about my whipped state. A week after Zeno visited me at school, I was having breakfast with Ella and Hera when I got a call from him. I answered it and they gave me shit-eating grins.
“Good morning, wife. There are a dozen red roses and a box of chocolates sitting on my office desk. Are you spoiling me?”
“Yes, I am.” I blushed when he made a satisfied noise on the other end. Ella used her fingers to create a V around her mouth, her tongue flicking out a couple of times like an idiot. Hera laughed and I gave them the middle finger. So what if I was whipped? My husband was sexy and he had the best head game. Sue me. “By the way, I’m picking you up after work to take you on a date.”
“Are you now?” he drawled smoothly. I could hear wrappers crinkling in the background. When the chocolate hit his palate, he groaned. “I’ll have you know I don’t put out until the third date.”
“What if I said I’m taking you to the best steakhouse in the city?”
“Then you can ravage me in a hotel room after our date. But promise to be gentle with me. I’m shy and a virgin and I don’t likebuttstuff.”
“You’re an asshole.” I chuckled. “I have to leave now. My friends are staring at me.”
“Tell them I said hi.”
“Bye,mon amour.”
Dacia too was warming up to the De la Croixes. Céline invited her for dinner one Thursday evening and I saw my sister slowly falling in love with their family’s crazy dynamics. Éva learned Dacia used to do ballet when she was younger, and now my sister-in-law had a new girl crush.
Diane Hill was another story. She hadn’t spoken to me since I got married. While I understood her hatred for the De la Croixes, I didn’t understand why she couldn’t call me to apologize for her rudeness. I may look like a traitor for living with my in-laws, but she was partially responsible for my predicament.
There was a peaceful treaty between our families and I hoped my mother realized that Zeno wouldn’t be so cruel as to divulge our secrets. My husband hadn’t asked me, yet I forgave him for his actions nonetheless. I understood now threatening my mother stemmed from the fact that he had no choice. Mayor Hill and the MPD were going to wrongfully put him behind bars and the thought of not being married to him, the thought of never having him, gutted me.
If my husband really was responsible for Armel Lancaster’s murder, he would have come forth with his truth.
I whole-heartedly believed this.
Before we knew it, May was upon us.
St. Victoria’s renovation plans were ready and reconstruction would start soon. My book release date had to be pushed back, but I wasn’t disappointed. If anything, it gave me more time to perfect my modern-day Greek mythology retelling. It was the one project I hadn’t allowed Zeno to glimpse and my husband was getting impatient, having now read all my previous works.
Married life with Zeno was nothing short of perfect.
The mornings when he left for work before I woke, he ensured the staff delivered warm chocolate muffins to our room with a good morning note, alongside a gardenia and red rose. Just like my wedding bouquet.
Every evening, we explored the estate. Sometimes he’d take me out to the balcony with a glass of wine after dinner so we could converse about our days and share sweet kisses. I liked learning about his life before us, and Zeno always indulged my questions, no matter how trivial or serious. Other times he’d take me out to the stables to ride horses and well,him. My husband had a penchant for rough and dirty, and particularly enjoyed watching my ass bounce in his lap while he fucked me from behind, while rasping, “I’m going to fill this hot pussy with my cum unless you beg me to finish on your face like a slut. What will it be,regina mia?”
Leave it to this man to call me a slut and his queen in one sentence.
I loved it.
I was also certain we scared the horses the last time we fucked with Zeno groaning like a beast when he came and me wailing like I was having an exorcism because it was justthatgood between us.
My vagina was in a constant state of horniness and I feared no man would ever compare to him once our time was up. A thought that always knotted my stomach. I refused to focus on it.
For once in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere, to someone.
And it scared me as much as it excited me.
