And that’s when I see her. My Valentina. Different scenarios of what our first encounter would be like kept playing in my mind since I stepped on the plane to New York, but none of them matter anymore. As my eyes drink her in, consuming her, all I want, all I need, is to hold her in my arms. To hell with her husband and the consequences. She’s mine. Mine.
Valentina rushes down the grand staircase, bumping into some guests, apologizing to others.
Just as my feet begin to move of their own accord, I see a blond man following her close behind …
Earlier in the night …
I HAVE TO GIVE it to Val. She sure knows how to throw a damn good party.
Wherever you look, people are having fun, enjoying the expensive caviar and champagne. A famous ballad singer croons one of his latest hits on the podium, an orchestra playing behind him. Loretta’s ninetieth birthday party is in full swing, and even my grandmother won’t be able to find one flaw in this evening.
Val stands next to me while I share skiing anecdotes with a group of our friends. Larry just got back from Zermatt in Switzerland and swears he won’t ski anywhere else. As more people chime in with their own opinions, I take a moment to study my wife dispassionately. Hair swept in a perfect updo. Demure black gown. Eyes blank. How did I ever think she was full of life? There’s nothing warm or inviting about her. Hiding behind a frigid calm, she’s nothing but ice. No wonder I fuck around.
Gwyneth comes up to us and hooks her arm in mine. Smiling politely, she asks if I have a minute to talk to her, so I excuse myself from Val and our friends. I’m pretending to be a concerned brother, though there aren’t any brotherly thoughts occupying my mind as I admire the way the skintight dress molds to her fucking gorgeous ass. Now that’s a woman’s body. We reach a hidden rose arbor where the grass is longer and its smell stronger. Relaxed, I sit on an iron bench.
Gwyneth follows me, a sinful tilt on her lips. “I see your plan worked.” She sits next to me, her bare thigh touching mine, and raises a hand, letting her fingers slowly trace my thigh. She hides behind a cool, flirtatious veneer, but she can’t fool me. She’s jealous of Valentina. “You’ve got Val back.”
“I do,” I say, amusement in my voice. “And I don’t think I’ve had a chance to thank you properly for that.”
She leans toward me until her lips are tracing my jaw and her tits are pressed against my chest, her soft breath tickling my skin. “How about you thank me now?”
I lift her off the bench and pull her on top of me, her legs straddling mine. My cock’s already hard. Hungry.
“You want me to fuck you like a whore?” I taunt, lifting my hips slightly, showing her how much I want her.
She groans, closing her eyes momentarily. “Yes, fuck me while your pathetic wife waits for you. Show me that you only want me and not her,” she whispers huskily as she grinds her pussy against my erection.
“We can’t right now,” I murmur, peripherally aware of any sounds that could signal someone’s arrival.
“What?” She pretends to pout. “Afraid to get caught?”
“Too much to lose.” My hands go to her waist. “But you should know better, Gwyneth.” I lean forward and bite her neck, making her cry in pain. “I only fuck her because I need to get her pregnant. Make her believe I’m a devoted husband.” Loretta’s threat of disinheriting me hangs in the air. Paris was a close call. I got comfortable, thinking that Valentina would never dare to leave me, and she almost did. Deep down in my bones, I know it. And I won’t allow the same mistake to happen twice.
“What makes you think a baby will make her stay?”
“Because that’s all she’s ever wanted. She won’t leave me after that.”
She looks at me with some sort of perverse pleasure as she lowers a hand and strokes my cock over my pants. “I could give you one, too.”
I throw my head back as her fingers begin to pump my dick. So damn good.
“I love you, William.”
I grab her by the ass. “Kiss me so I can taste your words. Show me.”
Right before I lose myself in my sister’s kiss, I think of Valentina.
Yes … I’ve got her right where I want her.
I hear the crunch of leaves. Gwyneth and I both turn to our left at the same time and find Valentina standing there, horror and disbelief in her eyes.
“I—your grandmother wanted you …” Shaking her head, Valentina doesn’t finish her sentence. She brings a hand to cover her mouth before turning on her feet and running toward the house as fast as she can.
“Fuck!” I push Gwyneth off my lap and stand. “Fuck.”
Gwyneth, cool as always, flattens her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Uh-oh. Someone’s been caught being naughty,” she taunts, laughing. “You better hurry, dear brother, and try to fix it. But somehow I get the feeling that this is even beyond your power.”
I don’t waste another second with Gwyneth. I hurry back to the house after Valentina. Blood pumps in my veins. Fear that she will ruin everything threatens to overpower me, but I push past it. I will find a way to fix this like I always do.
I can’t lose her.
I won’t.
“I ONLY FUCK HER because I need to get her pregnant. Make her believe I’m a devoted husband.”
It was all a lie. A lie.
Feeling like I’m going to be sick, I run my hands along the length of my arms while trying to dismiss the sickening image of William and Gwyneth burned in my brain. I should be surprised, but I am not. Deep, deep down, some part of me must have always known it would come down to this. Sometimes we refuse to see the big fucking reality of it all because lying to oneself is much easier.
But I’m done.
I laugh bitterly. My God, I have been such a fool. They played me like a maestro, and I fell right into their trap, believing their lies with eyes wide open. The laughs they must have had at my expense.
I rush to the house, not caring about the party anymore. The noise. The people. It’s all becomes too much. The need to be alone guides my step, propelling me to move faster.
In our bedroom, I go inside the walk-in closet, reach for a small suitcase, and begin to fill it with enough clothes to last me for a while. I don’t know where I will go, but one thing is for sure, I can’t stay here for another second.
“There you are,” William says calmly. A tremor runs through me when I hear his voice coming from behind. I stop packing for a moment before I resume what I’m doing. Don’t look at him. I can do this. I can do this.
“Val, darling, let me explain.”
Oh, that’s rich.
“Don’t.” Anger, sadness, disgust, confusion, and disappointment swirl inside me like a violent tornado, wrecking the home William and I built together, and shattering once and for all the paper-thin foundation of our marriage. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. Keep the sordid details to yourself. I’m done.”
I close my suitcase with trembling hands, reach for the handle, and head toward the door. I stop when I notice William reclining lazily against the doorframe. He watches me with a dangerous look in his eyes belied by a pleasant smile that sends chills running down my spine. Suddenly afraid, I tighten my grip on the suitcase.
“Please step to the side and let me through.”
He crosses his arms and doesn’t move. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Without bothering to acknowledge his question, I try to get past him. William blocks the exit with his body. “When someone asks you a question, the polite thing is to answer back,” he utters pleasantly.
“I don’t owe you anything, much less an explanation.” I raise my chin while quelling the fear rattling my bones. I feel off-balance as though my entire world has been tilted upside down. And as I stare at his easy smile and calm demeanor, anger bubbles inside me. Anger for all the years I’ve wasted on him and everything I have given up for him. But most of all, I’m angry with myself because I was too weak to walk away.
“What have I done to deserve this, William?”
He remains silent.
“I loved you so much. So fucking much I threw my pride away again and again,” my voice cracks. “I let my love for you cripple and cut me. And you’ve watched me bleed without giving a shit. Well, I’m done handing you the knife.”
“Listen to you finally showing your fucking backbone.” He chuckles, his eyes dancing like pagan worshippers around a bonfire. He cups my cheek. The contact is so soft it would be easy to think that I imagined the caress. “Valentina … Valentina … What am I going to do with you?”
I take a step back, needing to put some space between us. “We’re done. It’s over. It’s been over for a very long time.”
“Quite the contrary, my darling.” William is too quick for me. He snakes a hand behind my neck, gripping my hair in an unforgiving hold. “It’s far from over. I own you. I own your body. I own your name. I own the clothes you’re wearing. The air you breathe. You’re mine and only mine,” he hisses, tightening his grip, drawing closer to me.
“It’s all smoke and mirrors,” I say, rebelling against him and his words. “Just like you.”
“Shut up,” he orders menacingly.
I train myself to appear outwardly cool when in reality I’m struggling to just keep breathing. “I’m nobody’s property. Do you hear me? Not anymore you disgusting—”
He slaps me hard with his other hand.
Stunned momentarily, I stare at this William with the cruel touch and stones for eyes and I realize I never knew him at all.
“Look what you’ve made me do,” he adds calmly as though he’s chatting about the weather.
“You’ve lost your mind,” I say hoarsely before trying to shove him away, but it only seems to incense him more, make his hold tighter.
“Let go.” I kick him hard, making William chuckle. “Get away from me.”
“No.” His grip grows more painful as a dangerous light glistens in his eyes. “You leave me no choice but to show you who you belong to.”
His teeth crash against mine, taking my mouth in a possessive kiss meant to punish and debase me, but I end it by turning my face to the side. “Stop it.”
“You’ve displeased me, Valentina.” William ignores my pleas with a cold heart. He pushes me against the dresser, nudging my legs apart. “And when someone dares to displease me, they must be punished.” His hands roam over my body, degrading me. His touch isn’t soft or gentle. His caresses are meant to punish, to humiliate, to show me I’m at his mercy.
“William, no.” I try to fight him off, but he’s stronger, bigger than me. Panic rises inside me. “Don’t do this, please. Stop.”
William chuckles, not even breaking a sweat. “Look at you, getting all feisty.”
At my wits’ end, I start yelling for help, praying someone will hear me.
“Who do you think is going to hear you? They’re all downstairs getting drunk.” William laughs in my ear as he covers my mouth with his fingers. “Stop fighting me or I’ll make it worse for you.”
Little by little I’m losing control while handing it to William, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. He bunches my dress up around my waist, unzips his pants and takes out his cock. He rubs it against my entrance. Closing my eyes, I tune him out and what’s happening around me. I grow numb as my mind takes me back to a magic night full of stars. Suddenly, it’s not William who I feel or his punishing hands. It’s Sébastien. He’s dancing with me, filling my world with his beautiful light. And I’m loved and cherished once again.
“Ready?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you trust me?” he asks throatily, tightening his grip around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I blink a couple times, still in a daze. However, the answer jumps out of me. “Yes.”
No …
No …
No …
No!
The memory works like an electroshock awakening my mind from a stupor. I open my eyes, trying to push him off of me. “Stop.”
William pulls closer, kissing my neck. “If you weren’t so frigid, you might enjoy this.”
“Stop.” I push him again, barely moving him. “Stop!”
“It’s your fucking duty after all.”
Focus, Valentina. He doesn’t get to win this. He doesn’t get to take this from you. I pause. Close my eyes. Take a deep, calming breath. And when I’m ready, I shove him away with every ounce of strength I possess.
The force of my push takes William by surprise. He staggers back and trips on a chair, crashing on the carpeted floor.
As he’s falling, I see a window of opportunity to escape. My ears ring as I make a move to cross the threshold. William tries to grip the skirt of my dress, but I am quicker than him.
“If you leave this room, I won’t give you a cent,” he shouts angrily, still on the floor. “You won’t get my money, you hear me? You’ll be back to being nothing. You’re nothing without me!”
All this time I thought I was fighting for us, and now I realize I was fighting to be hurt over and over again, chasing memories that held us together. Love can’t survive on memories alone. So I’m letting him go. It’s time I forgive myself and the mistakes I’ve made. It’s time I fight for me.
“I have given you my everything, William, and you’ve made me feel like there’s nothing left of me. You’ve shattered me, broken me like I am made out of glass. Once. Twice. And each time I foolishly came back. Hoping it would be different, hoping you’d stay true to your word. Always hoping. Always blind. But you don’t get to break me anymore.”
I pause by the door, my entire body shaking compulsively. “I’d rather be nothing, have nothing, than remain married to you. I will have respect for myself, and that’s all that matters.”
My heart pounds in excitement as a light film of sweat covers my upper lip. Without giving William another thought, I rush out the room, leave him and this life behind running towards the front doors of the house. The only thought—my only goal—is to get away. I have nothing. No money. No clothes. But I don’t care.
I am free.
I go down the stairs as fast as my feet will allow, bumping into some guests. When I’ve reached the landing, I stop to glance back and see William right behind, closing the space between us. Panic settles in the pit of my stomach. About to move again, I bump into someone and lose my balance.
Placing his hands on my forearms, the man stalls my fall. “I’m so sorry,” I apologize distractedly, needing to move. “I wasn’t looking where I w—” I raise my eyes.
My breath catches.
My heart stops.
The whole world disappears except the man who owns my heart and soul.
“Sébastien?”
He smiles softly, his eyes sad. “Hello, Valentina.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask softly, afraid I’m dreaming and he’s not really here.
“You took away my heart, and I want it back.”
“Oh, Sébastien.” I touch his face, my incredulous fingers aching to feel him, to make sure he is real. “I thought I lost you for good.” His beautiful face blurs as a sob escapes my mouth, and I begin to cry. “I-I am so sorry for leaving you like that.”
“Ma petite chouette.” His hands tremble as he cups my cheeks. “My little love.”
“I’m so sorry,” I cry, unable to stop the tears from coming. “I’m so—”
Sébastien silences me with an everlasting kiss that breathes life into my soul. His splayed fingers strong against my skin feel as though he is trying to absorb me into him. Our mouths claim one another until we become two stars crashing and lighting up my night sky in magnificent, brilliant colors.
The kiss comes to an end, and my mind is still in a haze when I hear William say my name with utter hate. The room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
My gaze finds William standing at the foot of the staircase not even ten feet away from us surrounded by friends and family. Loret
ta. Gwyneth. Larry. His shield. They all watch us with disapproval in their eyes. But I don’t care what they think about me anymore. And the realization is one big high.
Loretta’s icy glare bounces between William and me. “This is unacceptable,” she utters with disgust. “Someone explain to me what is happening right now.”
“Why don’t you ask William and Gwyneth?”
“Valentina! The library,” William orders, his face growing red. “Right now!”
Once upon a time, I would have listened to him. His hold on me was that powerful.
But not now.
Never again.
“No.” I shake my head. A slow smile grows from within me. Out of me. “I don’t think I will, actually. I’m done running back to you, William. We’re over.”
Sébastien takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips as he stares at William and Gwyneth and the whole lot, claiming me in front of them. Focusing on my husband, Sébastien dares him to come between us. To try and separate us, but William remains in his place. “Thought so,” he says under his breath. Then he turns to look at me and grins like the rascal he is.
“Want to get out of here, ma petite chouette?”
And like that night in Paris when he whispered the same words to me, the same answer forms in my heart. “God, yes.”
BACK IN HIS HOTEL ROOM, the world and reality slip away. Words cease to matter. There is only silence, magical silence, and the wonderful man standing in front of me. I stare at him, my eyes swallowing his savage beauty for all the days, weeks, and months I have gone without him.
And he steals my breath away.
I was numb without him. My body dry. Parched. Lifeless. But as our gazes lock, my heart jumpstarts all over again. Beating harder. Faster. Life floods my veins. Sweet air fills my lungs. It is all because of him.
Nerves make my movements clumsy. My breathing is short and fast. Untamed happiness runs rampant within me. All that matters is the now. The present with him in it.
I don’t know whether he comes to me or I go to him. All I know is that when his arms come around me, every cell in my body cries, At last! At last! I am lost and found in his sweet embrace.