NADIA

I sat in the middle of the bed, surrounded by soft pillows, my gaze fixed on the man standing still in front of me.

I felt stupid.

My eyes darted back and forth, waiting for him to react to what I said.

My heart thumped hard against my chest, fingers playing with the sides of my nightgown.

With each second that passed by, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

Elias finally looked up, and I didn't dare breathe, eagerness gushed through my veins as I held his nonchalant gaze.

His piercing eyes drifted down my body, almost as if he could see…well he could. The see-through lingerie set I bought barely hid anything from him.

I noticed the dent in his trousers and consoled myself.

Looks like the suggestions other wives gave me, albeit condescendingly, were working.

He tucked one hand in his pocket and gestured with the other that still held his phone. “Go on. Touch yourself.”

I turned red.

“I…I want you to touch me.” I whispered, almost cringing from the words escaping my lips. I couldn't believe that I'd reduced myself to this…

Shameless. Desperate.

When I looked back at Elias, his gaze was still the same. Blank. Emotionless.

He sighed, running his fingers through his silver grey hair, his biceps flexing in the process and I throbbed down there.

For a sixty year old man, my husband didn't look a day over 40. He was fit, unlike other men his age, thanks to his diet and never skipping the gym. His looks and money earned him women that flocked about him like birds in water…

And Elias never lacked a woman in his bed. There was always someone. Someone older, someone with more experience, someone with the caliber to fit into his lifestyle. While I, his wife, rotted in our matrimonial bed.

Was I attracted to Elias? No. Not even right now.

But I needed him…there was only so much loneliness a woman could take.

“Elias?” I called out.

“Hm,” he responded vaguely, his attention back to the phone he was holding.

I glared at the phone and without thinking, I lunged for him and made to grab it.

He moved and I accidentally smacked it right out of his hands, sending it crashing to the floor.

I gasped, meeting his narrowed, burning gaze. “I'm so…” The words died in my throat as my eyes fell on the picture displayed on the phone screen.

Obscene pictures of Chloe in a position I never even imagined possible.

I got out of bed, and walked towards the phone, slowly picking it up and staring at the nude image.

Curiousity got the better of me, and I scrolled to find many, many more.

“Give me that.” He snatched it from my hand. I remained frozen for a few seconds, before glancing at his trousers.

So that was the reason for the thick protruding bulge.

“I can't…I thought you'd broken up with her.”

“I'm not—” He paused, “It's not what you think.”

“Oh please.” I chuckled, “Is it normal now for CEOs to have nude pictures of their secretary on their phones whilst spotting a large boner in the presence of their wife who happened to be begging for sex upon their arrival?”

He glanced at his hardness and looked back at me, not even bothering to fix it. “You're overthinking this.”

The actual nerve of this man to try and gaslight me!

Elias was a philanderer, a womanizer—although he tried to hide it, he failed woefully.

I still feel humiliated whenever I remember how I tried to stop him when we first got married.

I gave up quickly, thank God for that, but after one month, he was on to the next sweet thing with pretty long legs.

Not with Chloe though. This affair has been going on for what, three months?

“Do you want me to fuck you or what?” He frowned slightly and I almost puked at the image that conjured up in my head.

“No. No thank you. Let's put a raincheck on that.” Maybe it's time to construct a sex timetable.

Shame clawed at me as I crawled my way back to bed, laid on it and covered my body with the duvet.

Elias didn't apologize, he didn't even say a word. Just shuffled around the room noisily.

After what felt like eternity, the bed dipped and his snore quickly filled the air.

I, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. My mind raced with annoying thoughts, I kept tossing and turning.

I flung the duvet off me and shrugged off my silky robe. Punched my pillow a couple of times, glared at Elias and imagined one hundred and fifty ways I should kill him before I finally drifted to sleep.

***

I shot up, eyes open, heart racing in my rib cage as I listened for it again.

What was that? Am I dreaming?

The bedroom was darker than my husband’s soul, the night was filled with silence and I almost thought I was imagining it when the noise came again.

Shuffling. Footsteps. Cutleries jiggling.

My heart shot to the roof.

There's a thief in my house!

My eyes darted left and right, my fingers shook as I reached for Elias

“Elias!” I whisper-yelled, shaking him gently, “Elias!!”

He didn't budge! The man slept like a log.

I gulped, my eyes darting to the door, my breathing going faster and faster as my heart pounded in my ears.

Now I was regretting sending the workers home for the weekend. If only they were here…someone would have helped.

My legs trembled as they touched the floor. I instinctively reached for the vase on the bedside table and tiptoed to the front door.

I quietly slipped out of the room, clutching the vase tighter. I didn't need . I could handle the thief myself.

I just have to smash the vase really hard on his head…like they do in the movies.

I reached the stairs and saw light illuminating from the kitchen.

Stealthily, I moved towards the kitchen, walked in, ready to smash the vase on his head…except no one was there.

What!

My hand lowered to my side and I stared at the empty kitchen. Was I—

A hand shot out in my peripheral vision and my stomach dropped.

Before I could scream, his hand clamped over my mouth, smothering the sound, and in my struggle, I dropped the vase, the sound of ceramic crashing filled the air and I fought with everything I had.

He didn't let go. The knife glinted in the light, my life flashed before my eyes as the sharp blade descended.

NADIA

My eyes squeezed shut as I waited for the pain, expecting it to come… instead, a sturdy hand wrapped around my waist, locking my body against a hard chest.

“Don't scream. It's me.”

The familiar voice tingled in my ears, the fight in my body ceasing almost instantly as my eyes went wide.

Killian?

As my body went lax against his, his palm over my mouth loosened and his hand around my waist fell away as he stepped back.

I turned to face him as he let go of me, my wide eyes meeting his steel-grey ones. “What are you doing here at this time of the night?” I yelled in a whisper.

He glanced at me for a second before raising one shoulder and turning to place the knife back in its original position.

I couldn't believe he was standing in front of me. The last time I'd seen him was a year ago before he suddenly stopped popping in like the devil he was.

My gaze roamed his body, taking in his appearance. His hair was shorter now. He looked well put together despite his bicep straining against his dress shirt.

But those eyes still burned with mischief and trouble like they always did a year ago.

“Does your father know you're here?” I asked again when he didn't respond.

“Yeah… actually, no.” He met my gaze, a small smile spreading over his face. One that died away quickly as his gaze dipped to my body for a split second.

He cleared his throat and I regarded him with a look.

“I was supposed to be here earlier in the morning, but my flight got delayed. Then I stopped by to see a friend. Before I knew it, time had gone and here I am.”

My lips pursed and my brows furrowed. “You couldn't wait till morning like a normal person?”

“If you're going to interrogate me, don't do it while wearing that.”

My gaze dropped and I froze.

Oh my God! I forgot my shawl! And here I was standing in front of him with everything on display!

My jaw dropped. I was mortified.

“I left my jacket in the living room—”

Without waiting for him to finish, I darted out of the kitchen and zeroed in on his suit jacket propped against the head of the sofa.

I grabbed it, shoved my little hands in it, and wrapped it around my body.

I was immediately hit with the scent of his cologne.

Woody… peppermint…

I should go back to the bedroom and pretend none of this happened…

Fuck! How could I—

“Don't beat yourself up. I didn't look long enough to commit anything to memory,” Killian said from the kitchen, and somehow that didn't make me relax at all.

I inhaled deeply, his scent going straight to my brain. I turned around and walked back into the kitchen. When I got there, the broken case had been cleared up and Killian’s head was buried in the fridge.

“Uhm… sorry about that. I wasn't… I didn't—”

“It's okay. Now, why isn't there anything to eat here?” he asked.

“Uhm, there's a Tupperware in the last row. I made lasagna for your dad this morning and…” I trailed off, watching as he shut the fridge gently and shoved the Tupperware into the microwave.

“If I'd known you were coming, I’d have prepared something ahead.”

“My father didn't tell you?” He arched a slanted eyebrow and I shook my head. “Why? Trouble in paradise?”

I swallowed, looking away. “No. Everything is good. He probably forgot.”

“Hmm. Forgot? You're not fooling anyone, Nadia, at least not me.”

I ignored him, forced my gaze on the microwave as he moved around the kitchen.

“Nadia, I'm curious about something.”

“What's that?”

“Have you ever thought about hooking up with someone else?”

I croaked.

He looked at me, giving me his undivided attention. “Like someone younger?” His eyes burned. That intense gaze roamed my body and it was almost as if I wasn't wearing his jacket… like he could see everything underneath.

My cheeks were on fire. I darted my gaze, my mouth opening and closing a million times without a single sound coming from it.

A chuckle echoed in the air and I spared him a glance to find him leaning against the cabinet with his arms folded.

“God, you're still the same. So easily flustered with those red chubby cheeks giving you away each time.”

My hands fisted and I glared at him, my teeth grinding against each other.

Yep! He certainly hasn't changed a single bit!

I huffed. “Seems like you have everything under control here. I'm going to bed.”

“Bed? Really? Won't you at least keep me company? I am your guest after all!”

I rolled my eyes. “It's not like I knew you were coming. Besides, guests do not scurry around the kitchen like rats.”

“I was starving. Can you blame me?” He held out his palms. The microwave dinged and he took out the Tupperware, scooped a healthy portion of the lasagna, grabbed a loaf of garlic bread and placed it on the kitchen island, reached for the glass cups and tilted his head.

“Will you join me?”

“No, I’m still full from dinner.”

“Okay, but keep me company. I can't eat alone.” He grabbed a stool and sat down with the bottle of wine and glass cup placed next to his plate.

“So, how have you been?” he asked as I settled on a stool across from him.

“Same ol’, same ol’. You?”

“Good… I guess. Except my life has become boring without my usual flair of amusement.” He winked.

His eyes closed as he ate the lasagna. “Have I told you what a good cook you are?”

I grinned, unable to stop the blush spreading on my cheeks. “Yes. A million times.”

“This is way better than your mom’s lasagna. Speaking of moms, how are your parents? When was the last time you saw them?”

I shrugged. “They're okay. Although I barely see them except when Elias sends them gifts. It's like I don't exist to them anymore.”

He stayed silent, staring at me with a knowing look before saying, “You shouldn't bother with that. Life with parents is genuinely overrated, take it from me.”

I chuckled, staring at him as he went back to wolfing down his very late dinner.

“Killian,”

“Hm.”

“You still haven't told me why you came back. It's been what? A year now, and you suddenly return out of the blue.”

He paused, a piece of bread sticking out of his mouth.

“I don't think you expect me to believe that you came back for the lasagna.”

“It's a great lasagna.”

I sighed. “Killian”. Tell me. What happened?”

His eyes fell, hesitation written all over his face before he finally looked up.

“The company is about to declare bankruptcy… and I'm here to save it.”

My jaw dropped. Bankruptcy? “Elias multimillion-dollar company was declaring bankruptcy?

“That's impossible. How did that even happen?”

Killian patted the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Someone from the company is embezzling funds, and I'm taking a huge guess that he didn't tell you because he's the one siphoning funds from his company.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do that?”

Killian paused, his gaze holding mine, and there it was again. That burning intensity that made my skin sing.

“You know why, Nadia. You know why.”

NADIA

I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it.

My head hurt. Throbbing like it was about to blow.

Even the sunlight coming in from the windows wasn't enough to clear my foggy vision.

Then a sharp, pungent smell hit me.

I reeked of alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

“Ahh,” I groaned slightly. “I really shouldn't have drunk so much.” My fingers rubbed against my forehead as I tried to will the stampede happening in my head to a stop.

My eyes opened, looking around the room.

For a minute I didn't know where I was, then it hit me. I was in Elias room.

My gaze fell on a glass of water beside painkillers on the bedside table, and to the bathroom, where I could hear the sound of a running shower.

I looked back at the glass cup and reached for it. It's only fair for him to take care of me, seeing as he was the reason I was this wrecked in the first place.

Hearing your husband is intentionally bankrupting his company to fund the lifestyle of his mistress is news no woman ever wants to hear in her life.

But I'd heard it last night, and it had hit me so badly that I reached for a bottle of whiskey and drowned my sorrows at the bottom of the bottle.

I took a large sip of water and threw the painkillers into my mouth before gulping and flushing them down with more water.

I leaned back against the headboard and shut my eyes.

A scene played in my head, and I imagined how the confrontation with Elias would go. Would he admit it? Or would he lie to my face?

Maybe I could make him see reason…

My eyes snapped open. My blurry vision landed on the bathroom door, where the shower was still running.

Of course! This wasn't the time for me to mourn or grieve what our marriage could have been. It's time for me to show Elias what I'm capable of.

If I could prove to him that I could help him out of this bankruptcy, that he didn't need to be with that gold-digger…

A smile spread across my face as the plan grew into something beautiful and magical in my head.

Gently, I placed my feet on the floor, stood upright, and walked up to the bathroom, my hands gliding against the wall for support.

I reached for the doorknob and tilted it, glad to find it open.

I walked in, stared at the shower glass that was now clouded with steam.

I closed the door behind me and moved to the glass door, sliding it open.

Elias stood under the shower, his back turned to me, and my eyes roamed his body, staring at the defined muscles on his back, his broad shoulders, the lines leading to his perky ass.

You've always loved me being spontaneous, right? Well, here's something spontaneous for you.

I slid the door shut behind me, but before he could turn to face me, I covered the distance between us.

My hand went around his body, and my face pressed against his back.

My nightgown from last night soaking up quickly from the water dripping down his back.

“Elias,” I whispered, my hands drifting over his defined abs and V-line.

Since when did he feel so… fit?

“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did,” I began, one hand caressing his abdomen, and the other drifting lower. “I was just feeling hurt and didn't know how to deal with it.”

My hand moved to his hardness and caressed it softly.

I felt the moment he tensed against me. “Can't you see how much I really care about you?”

He was way too big, and even with both hands, I could barely grip the entire length of him.

Yet, I didn't stop.

My hands moved, striking him, rubbing my fingers against his tip, the water making it easier for my hand to glide over the length of him.

Feeling and hearing him respond to my touch made me smile.

“Give me a chance, just one. And I’ll show you that I'm much better than Chloe. I can give you everything she can't.”

Let me prove myself to you…

I pressed my lips against his back.

That's when he moved. The shower turned off, big hands covered mine where I was currently holding the object of his arousal.

His head angled as he gazed at me from over his shoulder, and his lips moved.

“What are you doing?”

Almost like thunder, his voice zapped through my hazy state, and my blurry vision cleared instantly.

I froze.

Too scared to breathe, hoping this was an illusion. But it wasn't.

The man in the bathroom wasn't Elias! It was Killian!

As if my brain had just processed the information, the reality of my current position suddenly hit me.

I jerked away from him, ran out of the bathroom—which I now realized was the guest room—and raced for my bedroom.

I rushed in, shut the door behind me, and sank to my knees.

I… I… I fondled my step-son’s dick!

My gaze fell to my trembling hands… the same ones that had just—

“But how could they look so alike?!” I asked aloud, my breathing erratic as I forced myself to my feet, coming face to face with my pale and mortified reflection in the mirror.

Thanks to the stupid alcohol I had drunk, I couldn't even tell my husband and his son apart!

I ran my hands through my hair. “Oh, what do I do? I can't face him! I'll die of embarrassment!”

But I have to face him. I have to apologize to him. I just harassed the man!

“For fuck's sake! Why didn't he say anything? He just stood there and took it!” I almost yanked my hair out of my head.

It's not like you gave him a chance to do so.

“Oh, just kill me. Kill me now.”

***

After pacing in my bedroom for what felt like hours, I finally got dressed for breakfast, ready to face Killian and hopefully apologize to him at the table if Elias wasn't there.

Like I'd predicted, Elias was absent, and only Killian sat at the dining table with a frown on his face. He looked upset.

Of course he is. His father's wife literally harassed him in his bathroom!

Fuck! I'm going to jail.

I swallowed, taking hesitant steps toward him.

He didn't look up, almost as if he didn't hear me. I covered the distance between us, standing a few steps away.

“K-Killian.”

His gaze met mine, and my confidence went to dust.

My eyes darted away, and my fingers played with the sides of my dress.

“I want to—”

“Here, take this,” he said, throwing a brown envelope on the dining table.

My goodness! He didn't even waste any time to sue me! I'm going to jail. I'm going to jail because I can't handle a little alcohol.

“I know I made a mistake, and I promise it wasn't intentional—”

“What are you on about?” He frowned.

“Don't file a complaint about me, please,” my teary gaze darted to the envelope. “I don't want to go to jail.”

“What the—Are you still drunk? My father told me to give that to you.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

Wiping my tears away, I reached for the envelope and tore open the seal.

I pulled out the document inside, and my stomach dropped.

“Divorce papers?!”