Page 16 of Marrying His Son’s Ex (Forbidden Kings #3)

KASI

I wake up alone in his sheets that smell like him.

The bed is bigger in the daylight. Sunlight streams through tall windows, showing off expensive furniture and artwork that costs more than most people make in a lifetime. My body aches in places I forgot could ache.

Every movement reminds me of last night, of his hands on my skin, of the way he made me scream his name until my voice went hoarse.

I hate that I want more.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

“Mrs. Moretti?” Maria’s voice carries through the heavy door. “I’m here to take you to your room.”

I sit up, wincing as sore muscles protest. “Come in.”

Maria enters carrying a silk robe the color of cream. Her eyes are kind but knowing as she approaches the bed.

“Mr. Moretti thought you might like to see your new quarters,” she says, offering the robe. “Your belongings have been moved, and breakfast is waiting.”

I slip into the robe. My legs shake slightly as I stand. He really did ruin me last night.

“Lead the way.”

Maria chatters about the weather and the estate’s daily routine as we walk through the hallways, but I’m only half listening.

“Here we are,” she says, opening double doors at the end of a long corridor.

The room takes my breath away.

It’s enormous, with rich brown hardwood floors that gleam like honey.

A chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, crystal drops catching the morning light.

Tall bookshelves line one wall, complete with a rolling ladder that makes me think of old libraries.

Paintings cover the other walls—landscapes and portraits that look genuinely valuable.

The bed dominates the space, easily as big as the one I just left. The covers are already turned down, revealing cream-colored sheets that look impossibly soft.

“This is mine?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am. Your private suite. The bathroom is through that door, and there’s a small dining area by the windows.”

I walk to the bookshelf and run my fingers along the leather spines. Philosophy, literature, history. Actual books not just props.

“Would you like breakfast here or in the main dining room?” Maria asks.

“Here.”

“Of course. I’ll have it brought up immediately.”

She leaves me alone to explore. The bathroom is marble and gold, with a tub big enough for three people. The dining area overlooks gardens where peacocks strut across manicured lawns.

This isn’t a prison cell. This is a palace.

By the time I shower and dress in clothes that appeared in the wardrobe overnight, breakfast arrives on a silver cart. Real silver. The food is restaurant quality—fresh fruit, pastries that flake at the touch, coffee that smells like heaven.

I eat while staring out the windows, trying to process my new reality. Yesterday I was a captive. Today I’m a princess in a tower.

There’s a knock, followed by Lionel’s voice. “Mrs. Moretti? Would you like to tour the grounds?”

“Yes.”

He’s waiting in the hallway, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him. The bruises on his face have faded to yellow and green.

“Where would you like to start?” he asks.

“Surprise me.”

We walk through gardens that could be featured in magazines. Every flower is precisely placed, every hedge trimmed to mathematical exactness. Fountains spray water in elaborate patterns while classical music drifts from hidden speakers.

“The stables are this way,” Lionel says, leading me down a stone path.

The building appears around a bend, and I stop walking. It’s not just a stable. It’s a goddamn horse palace. White columns support a red tile roof. Brass fittings gleam on every stall door.

“How many horses?” I ask.

“Twelve. Mr. Moretti enjoys polo.”

Right.

Inside, the smell of hay and leather fills the air. Horses poke their heads over stall doors, curious about the newcomer. A beautiful mare with a white blaze down her face nickers at me.

“She’s gorgeous,” I murmur, reaching out to stroke her neck.

“That’s Athena. She’s Mr. Moretti’s favorite.”

The horse nuzzles my palm, looking for treats. I find myself smiling for the first time since waking up. “I want to ride her.”

“I’d need to check with?—”

“I’m not asking, Lionel.”

He hesitates. “Yes, ma’am. But I’ll need to accompany you.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m mounted on Athena with Lionel beside me on a bay gelding. The horse responds to my touch like we’ve known each other for years. We ride through fields that stretch for miles, past a polo field with professional quality goals.

This place is ridiculous. Absolutely, completely ridiculous.

And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

“Where’s Alaric?” I ask as we walk the horses back to the stable.

“Mr. Moretti had business in Chicago. He’ll be back for dinner.”

“He travels often?”

“When necessary. The family has interests in several cities.”

I file that information away. Knowing his schedule might be useful someday.

Back at the house, Maria intercepts me in the main hallway. “Mrs. Moretti, your gifts have arrived.”

“What gifts?”

She leads me to my room, where a dozen boxes are stacked near the windows. Expensive packaging, designer labels, ribbons.

“From family allies,” Maria explains. “It’s traditional to send presents to welcome a new bride.”

I examine the boxes without opening them. Jewelry, probably. Expensive perfume. Silk scarves and other useless luxury items.

“Put them away,” I tell Maria. “I don’t need any of this rubbish.”

Her face falls slightly. “Ma’am, these are from very important families. It might be seen as rude?—”

“I said put them away.”

She nods and begins gathering the boxes. I walk to the bookshelf and select a novel at random. Might as well read while I wait for the husband to remember he has a wife.

The afternoon passes quietly. I read, take another bath in the ridiculous marble tub, and try not to think about how my body still thrums with memories of last night.

By evening, I’m dressed in a simple black dress and sitting in the main dining room when Alaric arrives. He’s wearing a different suit than yesterday, and there’s something tired in his green eyes that suggests his trip wasn’t purely recreational.

“Good evening,” he says, taking his seat at the head of the table.

I don’t respond.

The first course arrives in silence. I eat without looking at him, focusing on the silverware and crystal glasses instead.

“I trust you found your accommodations acceptable,” he says after several minutes.

Still nothing from me.

“Maria mentioned you toured the grounds today. Enjoyed the stables.”

I set down my spoon and look at him directly for the first time since he sat down. “The animals are better company than some humans.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but his voice remains level. “I see you’re in a mood.”

“I’m in exactly the mood you’d expect from someone who was abandoned in bed after her wedding night.”

“I had business to attend to.”

“How romantic.”

“Tomorrow we’ll need to sign documents. For the official transfer of Dante’s properties. The lawyers will be here at ten.”

“Fine.”

“There will also be media present. Photos for the society pages. We’ll need to appear…” He pauses, searching for the right word.

“Happy?” I suggest sweetly. “In love? Like a real married couple?”

“United.”

I laugh, the sound sharp in the elegant room. “United. That’s one way to put it.”

“Kasimira—”

“It’s Kasi. And don’t worry about tomorrow’s performance. I’m getting very good at pretending.”

He studies my face for a long moment. “What do you want from me?”

The question catches me off guard. What do I want? I want to go back to my little apartment and my simple job and my uncomplicated life. I want to forget the way he made me feel last night, the way my body still aches for his touch.

I want things I can never have.

“Nothing,” I lie. “Absolutely nothing.”

He nods once, accepting the dismissal. “The documents will be ready at ten. We leave early.”