AllFreeNovel
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Eight months later. . .
I tug at my tie as the elevator dings for the penthouse floor. The doors open, and I walk down the hall, the sound of music blaring from our door. I break into a smile for the first time today since I left her. She’s cooking. She blasts the same girly shit when she’s in her element.
The last eight months have been absolute mayhem.
Eight months ago, I sat in a hospital room after my father’s wake, waiting for the woman I planned on spending the rest of my life with to wake up. Alana’s attack gave Fay three stitches to the head and a concussion. A woman who had been confined to her home by the law was able to walk out of her home and cause harm to my woman. I harbored guilt for what happened. When she didn’t immediately return, I became worried. If I had listened to my intuition instead of shaking hands with strangers, I could have done something sooner. Saved her from the psychotic hands of Alana Hill.
Alana was arrested and, this time, denied bail. No matter how much her legal team tried, she was destined for a life behind bars. I hope she never breathes free air again. And Charles Hill was in the wind, not even bothering to stick around to help his daughter. Once his wife heard the news about his transgressions, she left him. She knew exactly what was happening behind closed doors, but greed makes people turn a blind eye.
While waiting for Fay to recover, I made some big moves. Monroe Investment Corp was dissolved. My father and Charles’ greed tainted the good work being done there, and I could no longer confidently walk into the office knowing what they did. I stepped down immediately, and I’ve never felt freer.
My father always taught me to be ahead of the game. With success comes sacrifice, and with sacrifice comes power. What he didn’t teach me was how power can destroy a man. And it almost destroyed me. But then I met Fay. Fay became my lifeline. She saved me in more ways than I can express, and I plan on spending the rest of our lives making sure she knows how loved she is.
Because she's become my reason. My purpose.
I bought the restaurant because I knew she was worthy of another chance to shine. She was amazing inside and out. From her simple pizza recipes to her seared scallops with spiced pomegranate glaze. God, my dick jerks thinking about her food because damn, can she cook. And since my girl is resilient in every way possible, she was writing down ideas, mock menus, and restaurant names before she was released from the hospital.
As promised, I brought in a team to assist her. As soon as she got the go-ahead from her doctor, she hit the ground running. So much so that I worried she was overworking herself. She was still easily tired because of her concussion, and I sometimes regretted not encouraging more time for recovery. She wouldn’t rest. At one point, I threatened to shut everything down if she didn’t take a break or slow down. I remember our fight, threatening to do just that.
"Dammit, Fay. You have to slow down.”
“I’m fine. If I don’t take care of this, it won’t be ready in time.”
“That’s why you have an entire army behind you. Let them do their jobs. You need a break.”
“No, I need to make sure this is all perfect.”
“Fay, for Christ’s sake. You’re running yourself ragged. You’re not sleeping. Are you even eating?”
“What? I ate this morning. You saw me.”
“Eating the foam off your cappuccino isn’t a meal. The doctor said it will take time to heal from your accident and concussion. And you’re not giving yourself that. I’m worried.”
Her hands flail over her head. “Worried? You offer me this great opportunity, and now you want to take it away?” She pouts, tears forming in her eyes. I hate that she’s starting to cry, but I know it’s from exhaustion. Nightmares have been keeping her awake, so she’s trying not to sleep at all.
“I just want you to slow down.”
“No, you want to control me and tell me what I can and can’t do.” She crosses her arms over her chest. If it keeps her safe, healthy, and happy, I’ll sure as fuck control her.
“You’re right. And I’ve stated my case.” I reach into my suit jacket and hand her a paper.
“What’s this?”
“Your ultimatum.”
She unfolds the paper, and I watch her eyes widen. She looks at the sheet and then at me. “You. . . you’re. . . why are you giving me the Netflix bill?” I hate the tears that drop down her face, but I need her to know how serious I am.
“Because I care more about you than that restaurant. I care about your health and well-being more than anything. If anything starts to jeopardize that, I will step in and put a stop to it.”
“Yeah, but you’re handing me the Netflix bill. TheNetflixbill. I don’t want the Netflix bill.”
Pulling her to me, I rip the damn bill out of her hand and toss it aside while she sobs on my shoulder. “So, maybe I am a little tired. And hungry. And possibly really stressed out. I just want it all to be perfect. I want to prove—”
“You don’t owe anyone anything. You certainly don’t need to prove anything to that fuck head Hamlin or Miguel Lorenzo. You are Fay fucking Evans. You shine so brightly that there is no competition. You’re you—and that’s enough.” I pull her from my chest and kiss the tip of her nose. “Beautiful.”
“Being beautiful has nothing to do with cooking.”
“It has everything to do with it. When you have a beautiful soul, that beauty shines in your food. And that’s why no one will ever be able to compete with you.” She stares up at me, her eyes touching my soul. “I love you. I’m here for you every step of the way. I just ask that you slow down. This is me asking. Even saying please.” She chuckles and wipes at her cheeks.
