Dear Marauding Predator,

I missed you.

I have an important life update: I AM MARRIED!

I am still wondering if it's all a beautiful dream. I mean barely a couple months ago I was whining to you about not having a boyfriend and now I have a husband. Can you believe it? Neither can I. I have been the happiest I have ever been. The past eleven days have been perfect.

I celebrated my 30th birthday yesterday. Who would've imagined I'd be married before I'm 30? I hadn't.

Everything happened so fast, I couldn't catch a breath to find some time to tell you all about it. The days leading to the wedding were hectic. I broke down one night triggered by a memory of my past. My husband-to-be did an amazing job of making me forget all of it.

However, now I am back, and I am thinking... why do I live with so much fear in me that it still affects me? I know my husband safeguards me with his life. It's not external forces I am afraid of. It's my own demons that often catch up with me at full throttle that scare me.

Ugh. I miss being with him 24*7. If it were up to me, I'd never have left the private cocoon away from the world my husband gave me.

Ooohh... did I tell you I successfully managed to hike a couple of miles without shedding a single drop of tear or uttering a single complaint? Pretty certain my husband was relieved having to deal with less of my usual theatrics for a change.

How are things at your end?

PS: Attaching my sexy feet pictures. I decorated them with seashells myself. I demand your appreciation.

PPS: I hope you don't have a foot fetish!

Your best pen friend,

Come-hither siren.

💗💗💗

Dear Come-hither Siren,

Things are good.

I didn't miss you. I was too busy with my wife. No regrets.  Now, when I read your message, yes I have missed talking to you.

I also have an important life update: I am married (have you been stalking me somehow so you could compete with me?)

In my mind she was always my wife so I do not feel any different. Perhaps a little more settled than before now that we're tied together officially.

Would love to hear more about the event from the night you broke down. Write to me whenever you feel comfortable recalling it in detail.

About your fear... I understand you once told me you hate shrinks but you should consider talking to one about it if you're not comfortable discussing it with your husband. Although if I were your husband, it would royally piss me off that my wife keeps things from me. Your husband, though, unlike me, sounds like a man who can exercise extreme patience so maybe take a chance?

I had the same thoughts regarding the cocoon. I want to kidnap my wife and live a life away from every human contact. I would love nothing more and happily manage but she's a social butterfly who'd love it in the beginning but will soon start throwing a fit because she can't stand living without her narcissist mother.

I do not believe that you can hike without all the whining. That's not you. What are all the things you complained of and your poor husband had to tolerate? Looking forward to hearing about them.

PS: Didn't have a foot fetish until now. Your husband's a lucky bastard.

PPS: Think about the 'about your fear...' part.

Your best pen friend,

Marauding Predator.

💗💗💗

I smile reading his response. I love how we have kept this option open for us to continue communicating as our alter-egos. The shrink thing... I'll have to handle it somehow, but I am amazed at reading how he's ready to keep his massive ego aside and urge me to communicate things with someone that's not him just because he feels it can help me. I love this human.

"A vanilla bean frappe with chocolate and caramel drizzle and cookie crumbs for my belated birthday girl... no not that. New princess." Shukura is in an awfully cheerful mood today as she walks into my office.

She has a reason to be because she feels she has played a cupid between Areston and I. It's like her lifelong dream has come to life with my wedding. I am yet to disclose the details of my secret wedding with my best friends but Shukura knows and she can't help gloating enough. She has been all giddy with infectious smiles ever since she greeted me at the entrance of The Rothschild Tower, and flashed an equally dazzling smile to my grumpy husband whose face by some sheer divine miracle softened at the sight of her. He greeted her with a nod instead of ignoring her existence as he does with most of the people. It could be because she has helped him invade my privacy since the beginning by spilling all the details about my life and schedule that he has leveraged over me—something I hated at the start and wanted to murder her for, but now I am glad.

"I'll be chopping your head off if mama finds out about the wedding just because you can't keep your joy contained, Shuk." I have returned to the city and to work at last following 11 beautiful days that I spent with my husband. Away from the world. Away from everything. We lived in our own cocoon on his private island just like he had one day notified me idly that he would.

"I'll make sure she won't. So, stop being so grumpy. Doesn't suit the new bride," she rolls her eyes, settling into a chair and rolling it forward. "Show me the rings again."

I barely restrain my smile as I stretch my hands. It aches between my thighs every time I move. Areston always makes sure of that, but after the number of times I've been fucked by him in the past 11 days and this morning, it's higher in intensity than everything I've felt so far. I love it... this delicious pain. I crave more.

She grabs them to study my wedding and engagement rings twice in the past hour and sighs dreamily. "What a lucky bitch. I am literally green from envy. Where do I find a Prince Areston clone for myself?"

"No where. My husband is one of a kind."

"Look at you. All gloating. Ugh, pathetic. I bet the surprise birthday trip to Paris yesterday topped the 10 days of honeymoon?"

"Nothing can top my honeymoon," I sigh in content, grabbing the latest framed photograph that adorns my desk. It's from the wedding day– a candid moment caught in the ocean.

In the photograph, Areston and I are knee-deep in the ocean. The first thing I did after we were officially declared man and wife was to run in the water with him. The ocean has been a witness to many of our important life events, including the most important one—our wedding. Areston had seized me in his arms and lifted me up. Bursting with happiness and love, I bent my head and cupped his face to kiss him, and without our knowledge, Kaden captured this picture. He had it sent over in a framed bigger version the same night with a note.

I am no photographer, but thought you'd appreciate two important memories from the secret wedding day.

There was one more portrait-sized photograph. It was for our first kiss as wife and husband. The two of us were so engrossed in the moment that we hadn't thought of having our pictures taken and Areston didn't arrange for it because he wanted the moment to be private. Although he appreciated Kaden's warm gesture even if he had muttered a curse and the guarantee to kill his best friend for the breach of his so-called privacy.

"Honeymoon was perfect... but Paris was no less dreamy! Oh, Shuk. It was a perfect way to wrap up the honeymoon and celebrate my first birthday in eleven long years," I swoon, remembering the events.

💗💗💗

"How long do I have to keep walking blindfolded, your highness?"

It's the day before my birthday and he has something special planned but he won't tell me what it is. Not even a hint. We left the Bahamas, flew to some place, and have been driven to god knows where. We aren't back home that much, he told me that much.

"Patience is not your forte, wife, is it?"

"Novelty seeing you talk about patience, your highness. The man who couldn't wait to marry me."

"That's a totally different thing, baby. I married you in haste only out of pure intentions of my heart."

"Barely one month ago you didn't even know if you had a heart and now it exists?" I chuckle at him feigning innocence even though I can sense his wicked smirk in his words.

"Only for you," he whispers in my ear. "We're here." His arm around my waist presses me to a halt. "Let's take your blindfold out now."

I have to blink back the smudgy feeling as I open my eyes only to be left stunned with my heart in my mouth. "Disneyland?"

"Welcome to Paris, wife."

"We are in Paris! We have never been to Paris together! And this..." I pause, lowering my eyes to see the heavy haute couture dress he put me in before we exited the private jet.

It's a classic red ball gown with a strapless bodice, a sweetheart neckline, and a voluminous and dramatic skirt that is constructed to have multiple layers of fabric to create a lush, flowing effect. My eyes widen in recognition of the dress.

"This is the Oscar De La Renta from my debutante!" My voice is almost a delighted scream. 

His eyes gleam in amusement. "You wanted to have a fairytale moment in that dress with a boyfriend in Disneyland back then."

"Like a knight, you flew to rescue me with this spare copy when I spoiled the original one. " I crawl my arms around his neck and my fingers into his hair. "You weren't ready to be the said boyfriend back then."

He cups my face and lowers his mouth for a kiss. "Well, I wasn't, but your husband is here now and he wants to fulfill your fairytale dreams."

"I love you so much, Areston De L'Aquila." I smile against his mouth as he grasps my cheeks to tilt my head so he can deepen the kiss.

"Likewise, wife," he drives his tongue into my mouth, devouring me just like I have become addicted to. "Let's go inside before I ditch my extraordinary patience and take you to our penthouse to make love all day and night."

I grin against his mouth. "I don't suppose I would mind that."

"What kind of a fiend have I ended up programming?" He laughs, gesturing to one of his security men behind Horace to come forward.

"The best kind but you're not complaining."

"Definitely not," he accepts the bag from his hand and crouches in front of me. "Hold my shoulder," he instructs.

I frown, obliging, and watch him bring out a box of Vivier from the bag. It's a pair of sneakers with signature crystal buckles. It draws laughter from me. "Oh, my goodness! I can't believe you did this."

"You should by now. Your husband prefers things thorough," he doesn't even realize he's boasting as he slides my Manolos one after another and carefully wiping the dust off my feet with his monogrammed handkerchief, he puts one after another into Vivier sneakers.

I am reminded of the time when he had chased me following the night of Alva's charity auction and done something similar to this. My heart flutters with joy. I feel so overwhelmed, my throat chokes.

"There. Done." His eyes admire his handiwork as he gently squeezes my ankles before rising back to his feet to tower over me.

"I would have managed in heels just fine, you know?"

"And moaned the whole night about feet hurting?

I roll my eyes, throwing myself at him. "What would I have done without you?"

"You're never going to know," his pupils dilate as he presses his mouth to mine.

The clock is about to strike 12 am when my husband and I pause in front of the majestic Sleeping Beauty Castle. We have spent almost five to six hours here. Areston has been right by my side, being the perfect husband, taking millions of my pictures as I posed on every corner and with every Disney character—something I wanted to do with him on the night of my debutante but couldn't. It has been sweltering hot and he has been pestering me to remove the dress and opt for the comfortable replacement as per his plan, but I wouldn't have it. I have loved roaming around the park, living my Disney dream of being a Disney Princess hand-in-hand with my Disney Prince who's my happily ever after.

"What are we doing here?" I ask, looking around in the dark.

His hand possessively rests on my waist as he leans in to kiss my ear, his breath tickling my ear. "Another one of the surprises," he murmurs, his heated voice sending a delicious, ticklish sensation down my bare spine.

"Oh? How many more surprises, your highness?"

"A few."

"Well, if you must know your wife is impressed."

"Well, I am glad. My wife is one heck of a high maintenance woman so it's hard enough to please her," he smirks. "Look up, baby."

With a stupid, wide smile on my face, I follow his instruction and watch the colorful drones lifting into the twilight. I can feel his incisive gaze on me as I stare at the sky with my breath trapped in my throat.

Right above the castle, in the typical Disney fashion, instead of the dazzling display of spectacular Disney character formation by drones, the night sky glitters with the words Happy Birthday Wife. Say Yes To Being Mine All Over Again with thousands of sparkling fireworks erupting in the backdrop.

"Breathtaking!" I exclaim, my voice a bare whisper awed by the grand spectacle.

"Not as breathtaking as my wife," he replies in his velvety husk, his voice dark and low as he turns me to face him, trapping me in his arms as fireworks continue erupting in the backdrop. His cerulean gaze gleams just as bright. "So what do you say to being mine all over again?"

I throw my arms around his neck, laughing. "I'll say yes! Always yes. I love you, husband. You have made me so happy."

His mouth finds mine in a kiss that mirrors the beautiful array of explosions above us.

I am overwhelmed by emotions when we break the kiss. "I can't believe you planned all this. How overworked is your mind on a scale of 1 to 100?"

"Infinity," he chuckles, bringing out his phone and dialing Horace. A man carrying a huge box in his hand shows up.

Areston removes the glass dome like structure from it. I gasp in instant recognition. It's the pair of heels designed by Roger Vivier in collaboration with Arion's De L'Aquila Luxury's Orné de Cour for Spirit of The Siren collection. It's one of a kind swanky evening heels that would make even Cinderella green with envy—red satin encrusted with red Burma rubies and the buckles in the shape of a rose adored with real diamonds set in platinum. Valued at a whopping $22 million, it's the world's most expensive pair of heels launched a month back. It was not for sale, but of course the rule of mere mortals doesn't apply to his royal highness Areston De L'Aquila.

He drops into a crouch on one knee in front of me with the glass dome in his hands that is symbolic of our nicknames for each other. Beauty and the Beast. The only difference is that one of a kind magical rose has been replaced by one of a kind pair of red heels. My one hand travels to my mouth at their own accord in surprise and the other at my chest to rest against my heart that is thundering hard.

"Be mine again, Belle?"

"A million times yes!" I laugh, tears cascading down my eyes at the same time. "Always yours, Beast. Always have been. Always will be."

"Good," he grins, flashing me a rare glimpse of his boyish charms, extracting one pair out of the dome and putting it on my feet one after another just the way he had done when he had proposed to me in the Bahamas. Springing back on his feet, he hands the glass dome to the man who disappears, and then pulls me into his arms. The fireworks above us are louder now than before. "I love you so fucking much, wife."

I thread my fingers in his hair and draw him to my mouth. "I love you so so so fucking much, husband."

"There's one more place I want us to go to before we retire for the night," he sinks his teeth in my lower lip, nipping it. "So, we can spend the whole night and your birthday tomorrow in peace and complete privacy. Just us two as you want it to be."

"Are you sure you don't want to retire for the night? I am amazed you've lasted almost six hours without needing to have your caveman ways with me," I grin.

"I'll have you compensate for it the whole night and tomorrow. I'll cut your birthday cake on your belly and eat it off it."

"I am totally looking forward to my birthday cake tomorrow, your highness," I bite my lower lip as heat coils in the middle of my thighs as I imagine how hot that would be.

The next location he takes me to is a bigger surprise than Disneyland. He has a takeaway order of three McGangBangs, fries, big mac sauce, my favorite Fanta, and two brownie and cherry-flavored macarons in a cute box for us to eat on his river cruiser boat in Seine.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had," I smile, watching the  twinkling Eiffel Tower looming over us. "You made my dream come true, your highness."

Areston and I are lounging with our legs stretched in front of us on the cushioned comfortable seating on the boat. Me in his lap with his fingers moving across the length of my arms in deliciously slow strokes.

"It's only fair, as you made mine come true by becoming mine officially." I don't need to see Areston's face to know there's a smile on it as he nuzzles the crook of my neck.

His touch, compelling and masterful, stirs a rush of yearning spearing through me, inflaming my every nerve with a sensation that spreads like a wildfire. I am so used to having him make love to me, be it soft or rough, at any hour of the day several times in the past 10 days that having gone without it for the past couple of hours today, regardless of how memorable they have been, has me aching with a profound yearning. The arousal tightens with me, eclipsing everything, and needing to have his immediate and fervent claim on me.

"You know what?"

"Hmm?"

I switch my position to turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers moving in his thick, silky hair that gleam under the moonlight. "I am ready to retire. I have enjoyed enough princess treatment to last me the whole year."

It's always like this. My upbringing has me needing the princess treatment most of the time, but with him, it's always his rough handling that I crave. His need to break me and tape me back together is what I crave. I am all for fairytale love with him, but what excites me and binds me to him on the deepest levels is my desire to receive pain and his passion to inflict it. It's as integral to me as my very breath.

His pupils dilate as if he's reading a word-to-word transcript of the thoughts running into my mind, a possessive, tender smile plays on his lips. "Whatever happened to my Disney romantic wife?" He muses, caressing the strands of my hair falling on the side of my face, his touch, a dark, all-consuming erotic mastery makes my heart thuds heavily into my ribs.

I inch closer to his face, halting my mouth barely a breath apart from his and closing my eyes. "She's right here. Yearning to be choked and fucked by her beast. Take me home and ruin me all night and all day tomorrow." My voice is a shivering whisper.

He grabs my chin in a rough hold and gently yanks me forward, angling my chin up and planting his mouth against mine in a savage kiss that's true to his brutish nature. My entire being melts, my lips parting beneath the sheer force of his. It's a stark departure from the tender, loving kisses he has been showering me with the entire day. This is how he prefers to claim me, possess me, and consume me to a degree that's dangerously intoxicating. I cling to him, complying and responding to his silent fervent demand of owning me, eager to give him myself the way he loves it the most.

Breaking the kiss when I'm completely out of oxygen and panting to drag some, he barks some instructions to the skipper in French that's as flawless as his knowledge of Italian and other languages.

"I have some demands for my birthday fuck, husband."

His mouth curves in a playful smirk. "Let's hear them, baby. I aim to please my wife."

I grin, nibbling on his lower lip and raining kisses down his sharp angled jawline. "Blindfold and use a riding crop on me from that impact play box you gave me as one of my pre-birthday presents. You're also allowed to drink your favorite cognac for tonight but at a condition. Bodyshots!"

"Isn't my little ogre turning into a demanding little fiend?"

"You love it. Stop mocking," I laugh.

💗💗💗

"Ms. Rothschild, this arrived for you." Shukura's first in command enters the office carrying a beautiful wicker basket of no less than a 100 long stemmed red roses and a familiar envelope tucked on top of it.

"Now that you're married, your husband is back to pissing you off again?" Shukura chuckles, recalling the time when Areston had sent me roses to rile me up because he knows I don't like them.

I still don't like them, but they're grown on me. My husband considers me his rose so there's a sentiment attached to it.

"My husband probably has a death wish," I laugh, tearing open the envelope to find his card.

Peonies seemed too dull for your first day at work as my wife. I'll be counting down the seconds until I'm back with you.

Miss me.

Your madly in love husband.

"Any interior changes you'd like to recommend?" 

The giddy joy fails to leave me as I take a casual stroll inside the lavish gallery of Velours Rouge alongside the current CEO of the renowned 100-year old traditional French boulangerie and café chain popular for its artisanal bread, pastries, sandwiches, and café-style meals in over 50 countries.

"Nuh-uh, it'll be blasphemy to even touch the existing interior," I pick a cute little raspberry macaron–a signature of this chain and take a bite. Delicious.  "Owning this place has been my lifelong dream for a reason, Mrs. Allen. There's not a thing I'd like to change about this heaven."

The chain is known to cater to luxury since the day of its establishment and has been family run. The owner, a 79 year old, is the last remaining heir and yet refused to entertain my offers to buy it for the past three years. However, my husband surprised me with its ownership as my birthday present. I was adamant on not accepting Dolce Deliciozo out of my superstitious mind that considered it tainted from our separation so he bought me something I have desperately wanted and the deal I never succeeded to win.

"I am secretly glad," she remarks with a small laugh. "Although, I love the only addition and perhaps the best addition till date you're about to make—the MoodBrew App. I can already predict it's going to do big wonders and why wouldn't it when it is being developed by the man who single-handedly dominates the tech landscape with his visionary creations."

It wasn't just the ownership of this place my husband handed me, but also the prototype of an AI-driven app. He has designed it to specialize in understanding and adapting to the moods of consumers to provide them personalized coffee experiences using a combination of machine learning and mood detection technology. It's in a testing phase and yet to move on to the MVP phase but accurately suggested a chocolate hazelnut cookie cold brew based on my mood and chocolate-covered strawberry frappe drink for Shukura.

"I wasn't really expecting it to predict my choice of drink with such precision I must admit," I laugh along, savoring another bite.

It is no surprise that Areston De L'Aquila is a keen observer and has an uncanny ability to catch the subtlest nuances, anticipate outcomes in advance,  and plan several steps ahead in every kind of scenario. Yet, finding out that he developed an app in record time, inspired by a lame remark I made during our first visit to Starbucks, utterly astonished me. I am in awe of him. He's a demigod. How else can he masterfully multitask and bring each of them to exceptional fruition? His mind is an aphrodisiac for me. A raw, burning ache clenches deep within me as the thought of him just pulls me deeper into his vortex, making me crave him more. It is barely afternoon and I am already wishing for the day to end so I can be in his arms.

"You've finally set your feet in this place which can only mean one thing."

I turn to Lev's soft drawl as he stands behind me sheathed in a charcoal gray suit. "Lev!"

I run to him and practically throw myself at him. He catches me in a big bear hug just like all the previous times. There has been a little tension between us ever since the first time Areston barged into my penthouse and insulted him. What happened at the restaurant and the garden party only worsened the situation. I had started feeling a little awkward being around Lev after knowing how he felt about my relationship with Areston, and of course, there was my then-boyfriend and now-husband's irrational demand that I cut ties with my friend. A demand I paid heed to, even if not fully. However, I have a newfound respect for my friend after I found out the truth about Darina's friendship with Areston. Lev is what a true friend is. It's hard to come by friendships like ours and I was a fool to jeopardize it. He stood by me through thick and thin without any condition or motive.

"I called Shukura to check if you were available to see me and she directed me this way. You look happy and beautifully tanned, sunshine."

"I am happy and I am tanned," I grin, excusing Mrs. Allen and clasping Lev's hand and directing him to a corner table, which gives us ample privacy. "I have news!"

"Engaged?"

I gasp. "How did you know?"

He points his chin towards the ring on my finger.

"What's with men and their shrewd observation?" I roll my eyes, making him chuckle. "Yes. I am engaged."

"I am happy for you as long as you're happy, sunshine. You know that."

"I do." I give his hands in mine over the table a small squeeze. "I am yet to disclose it to anyone else. Selene and Claire know. Mama and Bubbeh don't. But then I am not worried about those two. It's Chase who'll give me a headache. He has already been warning me not to rush into this relationship. Finding out about my engagement would just piss him off. Royally so."

"Isn't he supposed to be on Areston's team?"

"He is. But he believes we have become too much different people from what we were eleven years ago so we should take time getting to know each other first. I do not agree and neither does Areston, but yeah. That's why my brother is opposed to running so fast. Ugh. Let's not talk about that. I'll deal with it later. You tell me what's new with you?"

"Something new. You're my closest friend so I want you to know about it before anyone else does."

"Please don't tell me you're married!"

He chuckles. "Not yet."

"So there's someone?" I gasp in surprise. "Oh, my goodness! Who?"

His eyes search mine as if he's trying to figure out what my possible reaction would be. "Iva."

"Iva?" My heart does a double flip as I register the name. "Your father's sugarbaby Iva?" I curse myself as I watch his expression harden a little. "I am sorry. Shouldn't have said that, but that's who she was, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

"Is this supposed to be some joke?"

"It's not. You know how I had a thing for her back when we were young...

"Before you found out about her association with your father," I finish it off for him and curse myself again for having zero control over my mouth.

"It turns out it wasn't true. My dad sexually harassed her when she was 15, taped her, and blackmailed her to live with him as his girlfriend until she turned 18. Apparently he had... or has a thing for minor girls."

I feel rooted to my seat. My heart starts beating in an erratic drumbeat as the news sinks in me. Cold numbness permeates my skin like a slimy snake slithering its way in. Sexually harassed and taped and blackmailed... it's too close to home for me to not believe it. I squeeze my eyes shut, my fingers tightening around Lev's as images from the rehab start flashing by.

"Shit. I didn't realize... are you okay, sunshine?" Lev asks, panicked, and rounding the seat to settle beside me with an arm around me. He doesn't know of my past, but he has a fair sense of it based on whatever little I have told him about it. "Take deep breaths."

I do. One. Two. Three. I take a total of five deep breaths before I feel settled and open my eyes. My hands move to fetch the glass of water and I empty it all. "I am sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't realize."

"No." I shake my head, cutting him off. "Tell me more. How is she doing now?"

"Sunshine..."

"I am fine, Lev. Tell me."

"She hasn't been able to get over it, but she's a fighter. I want her to tell her story to the world so I am supporting her against my father. No one should have to suffer what she did. It's easier for men of his position who think they're invincible and untouchable by the system to take advantage of the innocent ones." His words are laced with disgust towards his father. "I have always had a soft spot for her, but spending time with her has made me fall in love with her. "

Lev and his father have never been on good terms, but they have been cordial towards each other. Nikolai was never a family man. His oldest son severed ties with him a long time ago and has never returned since he left home almost 14 years ago to go live in Alaska with his boyfriend. His youngest barely remained on talking terms and chose to live under a different roof from a young age.

"I am so happy for you, Lev," I smile, taking his hand in mine. "I am glad you're opening yourself up for a relationship. I know how hard it is for you considering the kind of upbringing you had amongst your father's mistresses where love has never been a part of the equation."

"Honestly, I am still skeptical, but I have realized that life can be lonely without that one person to complete you."

"It is."

My thoughts drift to Areston and I find myself pondering just how true Lev's words are. I was so alone regardless of being constantly surrounded by my loved ones until my beast walked into my life. He makes me feel alive every second even when I'm not with him. He's the reason I look forward to waking up every morning. What would have my life been without him? I never want to know.

"There's this girl... Anaisha. Someone delivered some scandalous information about Nikolai on her doorstep. She reached out to me about it. I wasn't sure what it was about but Iva's name was on it and when I confirmed with Iva, all the information regarding her with that girl turned out to be true so I gave her a green light to go ahead with the investigation."

There's a fresh Columbia Journalism School graduate who has been calling consistently and dropping mails everyday to request an appointment with you. Quite tenacious that one... says she has something of your interest but she'll only share it with you face-to-face. What do you want to do about it? Shukura's words from this morning resurface.

"I feel as good as her story would be, she wouldn't be able to make it credible or spread it at a scale RNN or The American Observer would," he adds. "I recommended her to come to you with whatever interviews and materials she has. She might use it as a leverage to seek a job role, but I would give it if I were you. She's one fierce journalist waiting for her chance to shine. Would you connect with her and take a look at her story?"

I swallow with a nod. "I believe Shukura has already scheduled an appointment for next week. I'll see what I can do." I hate myself for not telling him the truth that I already know about his father and we're working on an exposé. "So when did you meet Iva and started dating, you sly fox?"

"Three weeks ago. It was casual. Nothing serious. But things escalated quickly. Who'd know that better than you?"

I chuckle. "Of course."

36 days ago I was at my penthouse, sulking from my heartbreak while Lev was preparing Thai food when Areston walked in, spinning my entire universe off its axis once again, and now we're married.

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