Page 154 of Corrupted By You

“Just kidding, Zed.” Her giggle was muffled when I kissed her. She tasted like sunlight, roses, and mine. “I love teasing you.”

I stood up in the fountain with her in my arms and she melted into my unyielding embrace. My hands voyaged over her body like a sculptor appreciating a masterpiece and she blinked up at me with those soul-stirring eyes.

I brushed a flower petal from her cheek.

“It’s okay,mon trésor,” I whispered against her lips. “I love when you tease me too.”

My entire universe started and ended with this woman.

CHAPTER 32

God of the Underworld

Darla

Zeno was taking me out for a date on his yacht tonight.

I was well-accustomed to money, but every day I was reminded of my husband’s billionaire status and gobsmacked by how much wealth he truly possessed. Recently I stumbled upon his underground garage with a dozen rare rides. He collected clubs and restaurants like infinity stones. I even had the chance to visit his stunning penthouse two nights ago, where he fucked me against the floor-to-ceiling windows while we watched the bustling city beneath us. Montardor was Zeno’s chessboard and the king had positioned his pieces strategically, ensuring his reign for years to come.

My husband was far more intelligent than I thought. Good with numbers and a fine sense of critical thinking, he had personal investments in various industries scattered all across the globe. Zeno’s inheritance was a soupçon compared to what he accumulated on his own. His ambition was extraordinary and every day I found myself being fueled and inspired by him.

Quarter to six, I glanced at my reflection one final time.

The woman before me was bold.

My eyeliner was sharp and winged, my lipstick red, and my black hair pin-straight, landing at the small of my back.

I wore a short dress with a deep plunge neckline to display the three-layer diamond and ruby necklace my husband bought me as a gift for our four-month anniversary. A fur stole was wrapped around my arms and I donned a pair of six-inch stilettos with sheer stockings. Everything in black to matchmon amour’sfavourite shade.

Twenty-seven years later and I finally felt one-hundred percent comfortable in my skin. Confidence was a slow journey and I cherished every step it took me to get here. I spent too many years worrying over others’ opinions versus doing what I wanted.

I spent way too many years counting my losses instead of celebrating my wins.

And now?

Now I was proud of the woman before me.

Darla Ivy Hill De la Croix.

My smile was sewn with empowerment.

I left our bedroom and made haste for Zeno’s office, where he was conducting a last-minute business deal with a private investor. The door was ajar, so I toed it open and sauntered inside like I owned the place.

His office was a direct reflection of himself.

Dark and moody with metallic accents. There was a vintage record player running a track with saxophone notes on low volume, causing the air to flirt with something sensual and naughty.

Looking very much like the high-class crime lord that he was, Zeno sat along a wingback sofa with velvet upholstery, his phone at his ear and his right ankle balanced on his left knee. A crisp black suit was poured over his muscular body and my thin gold pin snapped over his tie.

I never thought myself to be a possessive woman, but I’d go crazy and fight for this man.

He was mine.

Allmine.

Zeno watched me approach him with a molten look in his brown depths.

“Hi.” I leaned down to kiss his lips, smearing a hint of my rouge over him. “Are you almost ready?”