Wasn't gonna update but... I figured y'all could use some refreshment to deal with Monday blues! 

"Would you slow down before you choke yourself to death?"

"I am starving," I defend myself, taking another big bite of all American cheeseburger sliders as Selene glares at me. "I haven't eaten the whole day. Between the ongoing investigation on Nikolai and hectic meetings, I barely had time to eat."

Selene, Claire, and I have gathered for dinner on the outdoor patio at Bryant Park Grill. My new security team, just as assured, is nowhere in sight. It doesn't help my paranoia, but the idea is comforting and I'm starting to get used to it. Even though it's too early for me to conclude that.

"Would you look at this? A series of expert panelists on TikTok are predicting the span of your relationship and sexual compatibility with Areston based on astrology," Claire laughs, tilting her phone's screen to show me. "It's like everywhere I go on TikTok, it's you guys. It's nauseating. Just get married already."

"What's taking him so long anyway?" Selene ponders, lifting a fry stuffed inside The Village newspaper's old paper from the basket and dips it into the ketchup. "He's acting like a husband to you all the time."

"Don't ask me."

"Why don't you propose?" Claire nudges my arm with hers. "It's quite common these days."

"Cringe." I make a gagging face. "I would like my proposal to be the old fashioned way."

"Goodness. Will that guy stop it already?" Selene groans, watching a couple on the table next to us trying to eat a BLT on rye with a fork and knife.

"Ugh. What's that chick doing with that princess? Never trust a man who eats a sandwich with a fork and knife. Big red flag," I chuckle, licking the mustard off my thumb.

"Look who's talking," Claire snorts, twirling her fork in her ravioli. "One is married to a man who is so posh he never drinks a coffee that isn't prepared by his personal chefs and one is about to be married to a guy who is a step further than his brother in every way. Yours even eats a banana with a fork and knife, pumpkin. If the two of you can fuck those princesses, so can the rest, you know?"

"Don't remind me of sex. My vagina is sore from the all-nighter we had last night because I couldn't sleep so no sex for me tonight," Selene grumbles.

"No sex for me either. Areston will be in India for three days and I'm not allowed to give myself a treat. Not that I know how to anyway."

"Zoom sex!" Claire and Selene laugh in unison.

"Shut up, you two."

"Oh, sex reminds me," Claire jumps to extract her phone from her Birkin. "I saw this at Alva's gallery's private art viewing at the House of Rothschild last night. One of the most expensive pieces in the collection. $22 million. I didn't buy it for myself because I wasn't sure I needed a mirror. However, I received it as a present this morning."

"Mirror?" I frown, studying the painting. Selene huddles close to take a look.

It's an evocative piece portraying a sensual woman. Her pose is defiant, assertive... suggestive of fierce independence to an art eye. But it's in the subtlety of the woman's eyes that captures the attention. There's a sort of prudence that hints at some kind of a profound vulnerability. The whole painting seems to be a complex interplay between her inner experience and outward persona.

"It's called Behind the Bold. I saw it and I could somehow relate myself with her and my fucked up issues stemming from my lying and cheating parents. I don't know why I felt that way. Could be because of the story narrated by the artist beneath the painting which was similar to mine. It was like I was looking in the mirror," Claire explains.

"Behind the Bold. Wow. I love the name and it's an exquisite painting," Selene comments. "Who gave it to you?"

I prop my chin above my hand. "Yeah, who's the secret admirer?"

"Well, that's the... surprising part. I ran into Kaden last night. He was talking to a Latina artist, practically peeling her outfit with his eyes when our gaze met across the room. I did not expect him to excuse himself to come to me."

I almost choke on my burger and drop it back into the plate. Selene and I stare at each other through parted mouths and then at Claire.

"He asked me if I wanted to tour the gallery together and of course I didn't mind a known company of a fellow art connoisseur. We chatted, debated, until we approached this one and I explained to him how desperately I wanted to buy it but also how I felt about it so I wouldn't. Things got awkward for a bit as I felt drawn out. He asked me if I wanted to head to Legacy Lounge for drinks and I did. We chatted the next hour and it was surprisingly good. No flirting. Just random conversations and then this morning, I received this delivery with no note. What am I supposed to do about it? He already has a girlfriend, doesn't he?"

"That's not a girlfriend. Some girl he's sleeping with." I drag a deep breath, raising my glass of Piaff Brut champagne, and take a sip. "What do you think?" I ask Selene.

"I don't know. It could be casual. I mean... he already has a girlfriend or the girl he's sleeping with. Besides, you guys have known each other for a while. You loved a painting and didn't want to buy it so he bought it for you," Selene explains, tearing a fry into two halves and popping one into her mouth. "How do you feel about it?"

"Awkward, I guess?" Claire shrugs. "I mean I don't know. I would have liked it better if we'd have shagged last night and gotten it over with. This kind of stuff... I don't know how to deal with it."

"As Sel said, it could just be that you wanted it but couldn't get yourself to buy it for yourself so he gave it to you. Judging from how Kaden is, he's a pretty straightforward guy. He wouldn't indulge into mindgames if he wanted to bang you, Claire."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Well, I'll accept it I guess and just send a normal thank you note. I don't want to get into the whole trying to pay back and all shit that might make him think I'm interested. He's hot and I'd like to bang him, but his law firm is on the retainer for Claire Vandenberg LLC. Can't mess up our professional relationship which tends to happen when you bang within a professional network."

"True. But the romantic in me wants to believe he's probably interested in you," I grin."

"Ari and mine love story started with a professional relationship," Selene winks at Claire.

"You two make me nauseous. I need more cocktails."

"N'est-elle pas la plus belle chose que tu as vue?" I coo, stroking Arwen's back who's sitting in my lap.

Samwise is at my feet. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Gimli are playing amongst each other on the rug.

"Elle l'est. Le prince insiste qu'il les adore chacune également, mais tout le monde peut clairement voir qu'Arwen est sa préférée," Gabe replies, standing formally with his hands pinned behind his back.

I notice Zac appears in the living room. "Their bedtime?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Alright," I hug Arwen, just as Areston does.

My eyes become teary. I am missing him so much that I am trying to fill the gnawing chasm I feel in his absence by keeping his favorite furry buddies close to me. I hug each of the doggos and see Zac to the door as he takes them downstairs to their apartment. Passing the day without Areston hasn't been an issue. We're both heavily occupied during the day everyday anyway. It's the night that's going to be difficult. I wipe the tear that slides down my cheek. I have forgotten how to sleep without his arms around me.

Following returning home from dinner with my best friends, I showered and changed into a satin night shorts and Areston's shirt. I sprayed it with his signature scent to feel close to him. We have kept exchanging texts the whole day today and talked in between stealing a quick couple of minutes for calls. Just hearing his voice has been soothing, knowing I have to spend three days and nights away from him. I haven't talked to him in the past two hours, though. No texts. No calls. He's probably in a meeting so I decided against disturbing him. He'll call me once he's available. It's still a couple of more hours to go before he lands.

"Dirty martini with six olives," Gabe announces, places the drink in front of me as I sit perched on a high stool at the bar in the rooftop garden, idly watching the city skyline twinkling at night from the vantage point. "Enjoy."

"Thanks, Gabe. You may call it a day now. I'll be working in Areston's study."

"If you want something?"

"I'm capable of taking care of myself. I'll be fine. Don't worry," I smile, sliding off the stool. "Thanks for giving me company."

My face splits into a wide smile as I settle in Areston's chair and notice his strategic positioning of our framed photographs on his desk so that it remains in front of his eyes all the time. It's not my first time seeing this but every time I see it, it makes my heart elated with so much joy. There's a new addition to it I realize. It's me doing my ogre dance and saw him laugh uninhibitedly for the first time in eleven years. I don't even know when he captured this picture. I look goofy and it's from the fiery butt move sequence. I lift the frame and study it closely. He's clearly a great photographer and madly in love with the subject of his camera.

I sigh, putting it away, and fire up my Mac while looking around, searching for his computer reading glasses. I am too lazy to go upstairs and fetch mine from my own study.

I open the first drawer and my breath catches in my throat at what I see. There's a photograph a little bigger than the size of a polaroid photo. It's a screen capture from the time the mother-son must have FaceTimed. Written behind in neat cursive writing is her message. I wanted to preserve the memory of my first FaceTime with my son. It must have happened recently after he visited his mother and got to know for the first time. I smile, taking a closer look at it. She's in a gardening outfit, looking absolutely different than I've seen, beaming as she shows him a small rose plant she has potted in a flower pot. He has a small smile on his face as he watches her. He must have kept this one here because while he's slowly learning to welcome her, he is wary. It's acceptable in his position. This change of heart in him is a reflection of how far he has come. I am a ball of emotions. Tears start welling up in my eyes once again.

I am about to return it to the drawer when I notice another portrait size picture. It's of him and Althea. I have never seen this one before. He looks like a six or seven years old. She has her arms around him as they pose at the stern with his hands around the boat wheel, their hair flying in the air, and they're both grinning as they pose for the camera. The more I study the picture, the more I feel hurt at imagining all the agony the man I love carries inside him.

Regardless of what she did, she was always a doting mother to him. Growing up, I never had my mother around, but she was always around for him and me. She spoiled him rotten. He was always the most mischievous one, more than Chase, and would end up hurting himself almost all the time on the playground because he hated playing with kids our age and would challenge the older ones. He would win but would come home with bloodied knees he called battleground wounds. I remember watching Althea cry every time he would crash his bike or hurt himself during one of those soccer practices. How could she have done something so bitter and painful to the child he loved as much and possibly more than her own if she had one?

There's a file in the same drawer with her name on top of it. Althea Grosvenor. My curiosity piques. I bring it out and open it. There's a stamp-sized photograph attached on top of the file. I frown. It's Althea but she looks older than I last saw her. She's still as beautiful but age is visible on her face. There is a copy of her passport with the last stamp on it being of the Kenyan Immigration Office dated two years back. I turn the pages and realize reading the content that he has had her looked into recently. There's her recent address that's verified with a date backing a week before. I tap my index finger over it. It's a village named Nyang'oma Kogelo in Kenya. Her occupation is listed as a Social Worker.

A couple of tears slip from my face and land on the paper. I close the document, unwilling to read it any further. I have already pried too much. My heart bleeds for him. This is the man who'd turn the world upside down for bringing a smile to my face and here he is, enduring sheer agony in the corner of his heart he hides from everyone including me. She hurt him and left a wound so deep in him that it would be impossible for him to heal from it. But so did I and he's moving on. He would never admit, but I know he misses her. Why wouldn't he? He shared such a close bond with her. They were the kind of close I always yearned for my mother and I to be when I was a teen. I will have to do something about this.

I shut my Mac and head to the bedroom. Climbing in the bed on Areston's side so I can feel closer to him, I pull the covers over me and sigh, typing a text message for my PI. I am halfway typing my first sentence when my phone vibrates from an incoming call.

A sob escapes me as I answer it. "I can't live without you."

"Missed me much?" His voice is smooth, reminding me of melted dark chocolate that does things to corrupt my love-struck heart.

"I tried not to, but I couldn't not. Did you eat or have you been working yourself to death since you boarded your jet? I know you skipped lunch. Couldn't wait to get away from me and return to your old ways, is that it?"

"You sound like a wife, tesoro," he mocks.

"Well, I am your wife... just not legally yet." I don't know why I blush as those words come out of my mouth.

"Let's make you legally mine then. How does the next weekend sound?"

"Stop teasing me, Ares!" I snap at him playfully. "How was your day, baby?"

"Terrible without you. I should've hauled you over my shoulder and taken you along with me."

"And what would I have done? Sit and wait for his royal highness to come see me in the cabin during his breaks from work for refueling?"

"What a fascinating idea. I'll ensure it happens the next time I've to fly away from you."

"Jerk," I turn, facing the nightstand where he keeps our photograph, and smile looking at him in it. "Tell me, how much did you miss me?"

"So much I'm willing to return just to pick you up and take you with me," his voice drops into a low husk, so sensual it sends jittery shivers running down my back. It's then I get his FaceTime request. I accept it and his handsome face pops up on the screen. "Hello again, Belle."

"Hello again, Beast," I smile shyly as if it's the first time I'm seeing him. "Were you always this handsome or did you become more while away from me?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"You've always been. I feel so lucky you're mine."

"The feeling is mutual, baby," a small smile curves on his lips and he instructs Quantum to do something when the wall mounted TV which is the biggest size in the world with its over 290 inches springs to life and he appears lifelike.

He's in his study aboard his jet. Still in the same suit he wore in the morning sans the jacket, vest, and tie. His sleeves are folded till his elbow. He looks glorious. Like a god and that's not remotely an exaggeration out of my mad love for him.

"Now, that's better," he grins, stretching back in his chair, leaving his phone on the desk.

I crawl up in a sitting position with my back against the headboard. "Much, much better. It's like you're right here with me in the bedroom. See, I am sleeping on your side of the bed. Does it tell you just how addicted I've become to you? It's insane."

"I love insanity."

"You didn't tell me if you've eaten."

"I did, baby."

"Good. I ate too. A lot, actually."

"I am aware."

"Ugh. Don't remind me how."

"They did not make you uncomfortable in any way, did they?"

"Nope."

"So, why should it bother you?"

"You'll have them removed once you're back, yes?"

His face remains stoic. "We'll see about that."

"You assured me."

"I want you safe. If I determine upon my return that having them guarding you helps me stay sane then I'll have them continue, Belle."

"But..."

"No arguments."

"You're a pain in my ass whether you're here or not."

He chuckles.

"By the way, I was in your study to work. I hate working in mine and wanted to feel surrounded by your essence. I was looking for your computer reading glass and I saw Althea's file. I am nosey. I know. I am not sorry I saw it."

He sighs, his smile disappearing and he leans back into his chair with her fingers crossed above his chest, making the well-honed muscles of his biceps, shoulders, and chest flex. I can't help but drool. Focus, Juliette. I snap at myself mentally.

"I would have told you about it but it was of no consequence. Consider that a decision as a moment of insanity."

"Needing to know the whereabouts of your mother who raised you is not a moment of insanity."

His jaw tightens. "She's not my mother."

"She is also your mother. The one who brought you into this world, into my world, and raised you to be the man you are. Nothing you do is going to change it."

"Strip."

My mouth widens as I process his out-of-nowhere command. "What?"

A ghost smile appears on his face. "You heard me, Belle. Strip. It has been hours since I saw you naked. It's time for my refueling."

"You're changing the topic."

"I am not interested in discussing the topic, especially at a time when I'm barely surviving not being able to touch the woman who's the sole reason for my existence, prezioso."

My skin tingles as I absorb his words deep into my bones. These passionate declarations that he does that just come up naturally to him without even trying never fails to flummox me.

I can't help but let my eyes rivet on his sinfully handsome face, his lush mouth I am so addicted to. "So, do you want me to strip, your highness? What's in it for me?"

"You'll see." There's a devilish glint flaring in his eyes that is noticeable even from this distance. "Strip, baby."

I get rid of the covers and rise on my feet on the bed. "Like this?" I tease him, sashaying my panties out of my legs and tossing it in front of the screen.

His lips part in a wicked smirk. "Now my shirt. Let go of it so I can see your delectable body, tesoro."

"I have a condition."

"Let's hear it."

"You strip along with me. I want to see you too."

With a lazy ease, he gets up and heads to his adjoining bedroom where he gave me a mile-high membership. His one hand holds the phone while the other works around the button. In one smooth go, he tosses his shirt away and grabs the remote to his TV and starts mirroring his phone's screen on it. I watch him get rid of his pants and briefs, leaving his glorious body naked for my eyes, and climbs into bed, sitting with his legs parted and his back against the headboard like a true Greek or Roman god. My breath hitches in my throat when he lowers his fingers over his well-hung cock that springs upright at his touch.

"Your turn now," he demands, his voice dark and dangerous.

I swallow, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, watching the column of his throat move as I bare my breasts to him, tossing his shirt aside. "You better not touch that cock, your highness. You cannot come before I do."

"I will never come before you do, tesoro. Don't worry. Your needs are always my first priority," he grins lazily. "Now get back into the sitting position and open the second drawer of the nightstand on my side."

I bite my lip as my smile widens. "Have we started stacking sex toys in our drawers, baby?"

"Special case for special situations, tesoro."

I pull the drawer open and there's a brown mahogany box in the shape of a rectangle. "What the..." My eyes fly wide as I open it.

"The look on your face is precious."

I look up and watch him delighted witnessing my shock. "This is..."

"My cock for my wife-to-be."

It's a dildo that is the exact shape of his penis. The same thickness. The same length. The same piercing on the tip. It's like he has his own cock molded for me. I can feel my cheeks burning as I blush furiously while running my fingers over the thick veins that are replicas of the ones he has on his own.

"Like it?"

"When did you get this done?"

"A while ago in preparation for when I've popped your anal virginity. I can stuff your ass with it while I take you from the front," he answers boldly with a haughty arrogance that makes my stomach clench. "Bring your knees up and part your legs. Show me how wet you are, baby."

"Like this?" My breath quickens as I follow his instructions. The moistness between my legs is unmistakable.

"Yes," his voice thickens as his eyes remain on my pussy.

*****

"Oliver is waiting to pick you up. Marylynne and Celia are at Prince Arion's residence already. Xi'an will deliver your spicy cumin lamb hand-ripped noodles and spicy and sour pork dumplings in 40 minutes as per your instructions so you better hurry up. It'll take you at least 50 minutes to get ready," Shukura enters my office while I'm busy studying a report.

"Yeah, just wrapping up. Schedule a meeting with Vicky and Kiara at the first available slot tomorrow."

"Will do, Ma'am. Please look up! I have something for you."

"I am not interested unless it's from my husband-to-be."

"Ew! Are the beautiful peony arrangements he has been sending for you at every hour not enough for you? Look up. See, what's I've got. It's so cute. Look."

"Ugh, Shuk. You're a pain in my ass! What?" The unmistakable recognition of the Japanese red maple bonsai she's carrying in her hands sends a paralyzing shock rippling through me, jolting me in its wake.

My breath chokes in my throat. Haunting memories of the last time I saw this rush in—relentless and completely unwelcome.

"I was on my way back from Starbucks and I met this lady in front of our building. She said it was the only piece left and insisted I buy it so I bought it for you," she says, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "It seemed perfect for—"

"Throw..." I pause to swallow the bile in my throat. "Throw it away." My command cuts off her excited chatter, ruthless and sharper than it is my intention for it to come out.

My fingers form into fists on the desk as the familiar feeling of panic constricts my chest. An exact same bonsai stood in the corner of that white room of the rehab designed to shatter me psychologically. For some twisted reason, the vivid red leaves of the bonsai contrasting against the oppressive white color of the confinement's wall used to haunt me, exacerbating my agony.

Shukura's expression shifts from cheer to concern as she registers my obvious feelings. "What is the matter?"

I shake my head, grabbing the glass of water and downing it all in one gulp. "Please, Shuk. Just throw it away. Now."

"I am sorry, I had no idea it would trigger you," she rushes out and calls for her assistant who appears and takes it away. She returns to me and pulls out a candy bar from the pocket of her pants. Tearing the wrapper open, she comes by my side and hands it to me. "Here. Eat this. It's dark chocolate. You'll feel better."

"Thanks," I murmur, barely audible, as I accept the chocolate and take a small bite.

I keep my eyes closed and my head bent over the desk while continuing to eat the candy bar and tapping my bare feet over the furry Prada loafers.

"Is it the same as with the lilies and traveling alone in an elevator?" She asks, knowingly of my triggers.

I nod, chewing, and inhaling deeply to calm myself. "Yeah. I am alright now. I am sorry if I was rude." I put my hand on hers that rests on my shoulder.

"You weren't. Are you ready to leave for Prince Arion's or do you want some more time?"

"That won't be necessary. I am fine." I slip my feet in the Manolos and stand upright. Dragging a deeper breath, deeper than the last, I settle my Birkin in the crook of my arm. "The sight of it just triggered me. Not bad. But still a trigger. I didn't know it would. It's the first time I've seen it since..."

"Since?"

"Since a while," I smile, even though the insides of me feel quaking. "I'll see you tomorrow. Schedule the meeting I asked you to and reschedule the one with the attorney general to the day after tomorrow. Make some excuse."

In the quiet comfort of the Maybach, I light a black slims, and take a deep drag while staring out in the traffic.

I close my eyes and I feel like I have been pushed momentarily back in that torture chamber. That red Japanese maple bonsai mocking me as I absentmindedly keep staring at it after returning from being Ronald, Martin, and Fletcher's punching bag.

Shuddering, I pull my phone out of the Birkin. My thumb hovers over Areston's contact. I want to call him but I don't want to disturb him. He must be sleeping. I check my world clock widget. It's 4:00 am in New Delhi. He must be completely exhausted and there's jet lag to consider too. Not that he has the latter. He's a demi-god for a reason. Trained to trick his body to favor him.

"Is everything alright, Ms. Rothschild?" Oliver, the ever-observer breaks my reverie.

"I felt triggered... rehab."

He doesn't know the depth of it, but he knows what I went through. He has been around watching my family rush me to the hospital in secrecy after my successful escape from the rehab, all my mental breakdowns after that, and my family rushing me to the hospital again when I tried to kill myself.

"You're safe now," he steers the wheel from one hand and hands me a chocolate. "Eat this."

"Shukura already gave me one."

"I insist. You'll feel better."

I smile, tossing the cigarette out of the window and accepting the chocolate. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Just doing my job. You're a strong woman, Ms. Rothschild."

My phone rings. It's Areston. My face splits into a wide smile and my heart flutters. Every time I need him, he's there. It's like a cosmic, deeply primal connection when he can feel me even from miles away.

"Belle," his voice is groggy in a sexy way, straight out of his deep slumber.

I request for a FaceTime. "Why are you up so early?"

He accepts the request. "I have early meetings. Wanted to hear your voice before I start my day," he yawns, rubbing his face with one hand.

He's shirtless with his ripped muscles bare on display and in sexy bed hair, looking like a temptation, lounging back against the headboard just like he did when he made me come several times last night. Flush flares my skin as I recall it. The Devil is supposed to look like temptation, isn't he? Watching him makes all my fears from the bonsai melt away. He's my talisman who can tame my demons into submission.

"You look deep in contemplation, tesoro. What's the matter?" He frowns.

How can he tell? "Am I so obvious and readable?"

"To me. What's up?"

"I experienced a bad trigger." I brief him on what happened.

"How are you feeling now?" He has his classic stoic visage, masking what he's feeling right now. He's a fiercely calculative man for a reason.

"Better now that I have seen you."

He rubs his jaw. "When I return, I want you to sit with me and make a list of possible triggers."

"I don't have many, baby." I can't tell what's going on in his mind.

"So far, there are three." His voice is dangerously soft. I am not surprised he remembers every detail about me. "We need to do the exercise even if there are only three more or none at all. That way we can avoid possible mishaps."

"We cannot control the whole world, your highness. The triggers can be anywhere."

"You should know better, tesoro. I can control whatever I want. Did you eat?"

"I skipped lunch so I can eat a proper meal before leaving for the charity ball. I am sure you have already been updated on that."

He gets out of the bed. "You better stick close to Ari tonight. Don't let any man touch you or I'll be breaking their fingers without a blink."

"You cannot dictate how I socialize, Areston."

"You'd be surprised at what I can do, Belle." It's surprising how he's surprisingly so calm. It's a facade of course. I can feel it. "You better not wander off while Ari's busy as the host of the charity auction. Stick close to him," he warns in a menacing tone.

"You can say all you want. I'll do whatever I want. You must not forget I'm Juliette Rothschild. Just because you think I am some fragile creature doesn't mean I am or I consider myself one," I snap frustrated.

"We're here, Ms. Rothschild," Oliver announces, parking on 4 E 79th Street in front of Arion and Selene's gorgeous limestone Upper East mansion.

"Put Ari on the phone," Areston commands, making me scowl more.

"You're so annoying. I swear sometimes I want to punch your handsome face. You make me so violent."

I walk inside with Areston still on call, brooding as he brushes his teeth, leisurely taking his own time rotating the electronic toothbrush into his mouth. His brother is in a dashing tux looking like a Hollywood A-lister having dropped here straight from the red carpet. He's crouching on the rug as he helps daughter put together a lego set.

"Mommy!" Kryslian runs towards me.

"Hey, munchkin." I kneel, putting my arms around her. "Your obnoxious brother wants to talk to you. Give him some tips that can keep him from being punched in the face by me" I instruct Ari, stretching my hand to pass him my phone.

"Kinky," Ari chuckles, accepting the phone and answering it. "Why are you hell-bent on pissing off your wife? Take it from me, do what she says. Happy wife ensures a happy long life," he mocks his brother, disappearing into the adjoining garden. 

*****

"Stop stuffing your face with food. It's spoiling your gloss lipstick," Selene scolds as I guide a pair of chopsticks holding a dumpling into my mouth.

"That's the aim. I'm going to paint it my ruby woo." I am all set in a deep maroon Oscar De La Renta gown piece with a halter neck detail and a sparkling bodice.

I am escorting Arion as his plus one to the fundraising ball hosted and sponsored by De L'Aquila Luxury at the Ivanov Hall where I am most likely to run into that Russian hag. The only reason I had RSVPed yes to it was because just like Bubbeh's gala, this one's considered the event of the season so my presence is mandatory, and it was being hosted at The De L'Aquila Center for the Performing Arts. I had no idea that Arion, being the knight he thinks he is, threw a bone to Darina's struggling business by moving the high profile event to her husband's trust-owned hotel. I would have declined it this morning when I found out, but Selene is skipping it due to her sudden aversion from public events because of her pregnancy so I'm Arion's plus one.

"Red on red is a big no." She grabs a glass of dirty martini from the server for me and a mixed smoothie for herself. "Seriously, you're worse than Kryslian. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

I twist a dumpling in the chili oil and lift it to force it in Selene's mouth. "You need to relax and eat and relax and eat more. I want our baby to inherit my love and tolerance for spicy food."

"And my punctuality," Arion snorts, sauntering in the kitchen adjusting his cufflinks. "Are you ready yet?"

"We are debating my lipstick. Do I wear my classic red or gloss Celia put on me?"

"Say gloss or you're not my husband anymore," Selene threatens him, opening the box of Orné de Cour to reveal a magnificent emerald and diamond bangle bracelet.

"I am not a participant in this conversation," he chuckles and thanks the server, accepting the smoothie, just like his wife's, and heads out.

Selene puts the jewelry on my wrist. "I was supposed to wear this tonight if I were attending. It's the focal point of tonight's ball, considering it's first from the new limited collector's edition launch. Goes better with your dress."

"It looks lovely. I'm keeping it. I'll have Shukura make the payment."

"It's a gift, slut."

"Oh," I grin. "It's a collector's edition, Sel. You can't just give it like that."

"You're lucky I love you and I can give whatever I want to my sister," she snatches the chopsticks from my hand and hands me the shimmery light bronze Chanel liquid lip color.

"Jeez, fine," I apply it against my wish, looking at the compact mirror she's holding in her hand.

"We should get going, pumpkin," Arion returns and wraps a possessive arm around his wife, burying his nose in her hair. "I am going to miss you, heaven."

"Come soon. I'll be waiting," she beams, kissing him.

He runs his fingers in her messy hair held back in a loose bun. "Ask me not to go."

"It would be terrible for the host to be absent and it's for the underprivileged kids. You have supported it for such a long time. You can't miss it because your wife is greedy and wants you home."

"You'll be surprised to know I can."

"No. Or pumpkin would kill us. I forced her to go because of you," she chuckles, kissing him again.

I smile, watching them. I miss Areston. His warmth. The peace he brings me. His deep husky murmurs in my ear that sends tingles down my spine. I feel homeless without him.

I drag a deep breath and collect my clutch to leave a message to Areston. He is a stubborn man who refuses to listen to my requests. After talking to his brother, he continued talking to me for the next ten minutes of the call until Marylenne and Celia needed me to put it aside so they could get me in dress and makeup. He remained dangerously calm about my reaction to the trigger and did not mention it for which I am grateful.

I miss you.

And just so you know...

Even though you're a class A jerk

You love me.

"Let's go, pumpkin?" Arion makes me look up from the phone.

"Yeah," I pop two olives in my mouth from the martini. "Let's go. How do I look?"

"Hot," he smiles.

"Hotter than your wife? You better say yes or I'm not coming."

"Gross. Stop flirting with my husband." Selene rolls her eyes and pushes my back to nudge me forward. "Go now. I need to rest my back and eat lots of flamin' hot with stinker cheese fondue. Sex and The City re-run is on the watch menu tonight."

"Lucky," I whisper, pressing my cheek to her. "Bye. I love you."

"I love you too. Have fun you two."

My phone vibrates from his message as we're being escorted by Arion's team of security to his limo.

Pleased to know.

Mine own hours art dull without hearing from thee, mine own precious one.

I love you.

A silly smile breaks onto my face. He's trying to cheer up my mood after being an asshole.

"My face has started aching from all the fake smiles," I mutter in a sulking tone, waving back at a couple whom I am unable to recall who they are.

"Brave it for me, hmm?" He reaches out for two glasses of champagne from the server and hands me one. "You're my Iron Woman. You'll survive."

He places his arm on my back and we navigate the grand ballroom sizzling with the New York high society glitter and glam, meeting and greeting everyone on our way. By some sheer luck, Darina has decided not to show up. It's good. I don't know what I'd be doing if she were to come face-to-face with me. I breathe in relief, though, it is only temporary.

"Oh, god. What's Bubbeh doing here? I thought she RSVPed no?"

"There she is. My pulchritudinous child with the ever-handsome Prince Arion."

Arion takes her glove-covered hand in his and kisses the back of it. "May I compliment how breathtaking you look, Elizabeth."

"Oh, you're a charmer. Why, Vivie, you could try looking less apathetic at seeing your beloved grandmother," Bubbeh scolds me in a hushed manner as some diplomat couple greet Arion and he excuses himself to have a conversation with them.

"I wasn't expecting you here."

"Well, apparently you're so hard to get a hold of, I figured I should perhaps show up and plead with my precious granddaughter to give me some time?"

I have avoided answering her calls and texts since I saw her yesterday. She wants me to stop investigating Nikolai and let her handle it.

I inhale sharply, looking around, and taking a sip of my champagne. "I told you, Bubbeh. I'll do what I want. You cannot stop me."

"I do not want you in harm's way. You have no idea how dangerous it could be," she wraps an arm around me and steers me in a quiet corner.

"I stopped being afraid of danger eleven years ago."

Her classical features tighten. She looks flawless in her silver dress and dazzling diamonds. "I want you to fall in love. Have a relationship. Marry and have kids. You're too young to be meddling in this territory, my pride."

"You should have thought about it when you and mama were grooming me to take over The Rothschild Group since I was a kid, Bubbeh. Should have thought about that when you handed me the reins of The Rothschild Media and let me soil my hands dealing with the dirt. Now it's too late so stop haranguing me. Please." I whisper and down my champagne.

"Don't drink like that," she snatches the glass from my hand. "Hussies drink like that. You are the Rothschild heir, descendent of Spanish nobility, and soon to be the royal wife of Prince of Caravaggio."

"How do you know I am going to be his wife? We are not even dating yet."

"You will date him. He's so besotted."

"Excuse me, Bubbeh. I have socializing to do and so do you," I press a kiss on her cheek.

"Vivie!"

"Bye."

"Elizabeth." A senator shows up, dragging her attention off me.

"Where do you think you're going? You're to not leave my side," Arion catches up with me while I'm on my way to the bar for drinks and takes my arms and wraps around his.

"Just because your brother wants you to babysit me, doesn't mean you have to."

"I've been babysitting you since I fell in love with your sister."

"Lucky me..." I pause in my steps, bringing Arion to a halt too as I am forced to face the last person I was expecting to see. Not just tonight. In my life again.

Olivia Coleman. Areston's venomous ex from high school.

You had everything in the world, Juliette Rothchild. I had nothing except for one thing and you couldn't stand it. You stole Areston away from me. I fucking hate you with every pore in my body. I am crying today, you'll cry tomorrow. If Areston can toss me out of his life so easily, he can do the same thing to you too, and I'll pray it happens.

"Your Royal Highness. Thank you for the invitation," she royally ignores me and greets Arion instead.

"Juliette, this is Olivia Sinclair. Her husband recently went IPO with his company and I am one of the board of directors.

"Juliette Rothschild?" The man who appears next to her is no longer the dreamy boy-next-door I knew back in school. He's one dashing hunk of a male.

"Ian Sinclair? My goodness. What in the world?"

"How have you been?" He hugs me, taking me by surprise.

"Good. What about you? Look at you. You look so different. So grownup! I could barely recognize you."

"It appears to me all of you know each other." Arion muses. "I am glad you could make it Ian and Olivia."

"Juliette, you remember Olivia," he puts a possessive arm around the back of her. "She's my wife."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead now. "I do remember. Hello, Juliette. Small world, wouldn't you say?"

I force a smile. "Indeed, Olivia. Congratulations on the wedding."

"Thanks," her smile betrays the venom she still carries in her eyes. "I keep seeing news about you and Areston. It's good you have reunited at last. The two of you were made for each other."

"They are, aren't they?" Arion, probably sensing the cold edge in her tone, puts a protective arm around my back. "Enjoy, Olivia and Ian. I will see you around."

"I love you, you know that?" I take a sigh of relief as Arion steers us away.

"I do," he chuckles, his facial expression reminding me of his brother. Although, it's August and Areston who bear the uncanny close resemblance, Arion and Areston share a decent amount of similar features and the way their eyes light up when they smile mischievously is the same. "Bad blood?"

"She was your brother's ex."

"No way!"

I shrug. "There was a time he chose her over me. Well, I may have been a brat back then, but yeah he did." 

How was the chapter? 

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Thoughts on Areston's high school ex?