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16

Aithan

The weight of the morning hangs over me like a fog I can’t shake. I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, the rich scent of scotch rising to my nose as I lean back against my desk. The office is silent, save for the faint hum of traffic from the city below.

Leon sits across from me, arms crossed, a skeptical gleam in his sharp eyes. I know that look. He’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.

“You’re serious?” he finally says, his tone laced with disbelief. “You want me to bring you Bella?”

I glance up at him, taking a slow sip of my drink before answering. “Yes.”

Leon’s eyebrows shoot up. “You do remember that you’re married now, right? And that calling in your ex is probably the worst thing you could do?”

I grit my teeth, irritation flickering beneath my skin. “Don’t start.”

“I will start,” he counters, stepping forward. “Because you need to hear it. You want me to drag in your ex-mistress—who, by the way, still wants you—while your brand-new wife is settling into her new life here? Jesus, Aithan. What the hell are you thinking?”

I exhale sharply, setting my glass down with more force than necessary. “You think so little of me?”

Leon gives a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Brother, I think exactly what history has proven. Since your first wife died, you’ve screwed your way through every woman who so much as batted her lashes at you. Faithfulness hasn’t been your strong suit in a long while.”

His words sting because they’re true. My jaw tightens, and I roll my shoulders as if to shake off the weight of my past.

“That was before,” I mutter.

Leon’s eyes narrow. “Before what?”

Before her. Before Yelena. Before this marriage, that should’ve been nothing but a strategic alliance, but somehow became a war inside my own damn head.

“Before now,” I answer vaguely.

Leon studies me, his expression unreadable. Then realization dawns. He shakes his head, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re actually serious about her.”

I say nothing.

Leon whistles low. “I’ll be damned.”

I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “Look, I’m not bringing Bella in to fuck her, Leon. I need answers.”

He folds his arms again, watching me carefully. “What kind of answers?”

I lean forward, placing my elbows on the desk, my fingers steepled. “Yesterday, Yelena received an envelope. Inside were photos of me and Bella outside the restaurant.”

Leon’s smirk fades. “What?”

I nod. “Someone wanted my wife to see them. Wanted her to think I was screwing around.”

Leon’s gaze sharpens. “Was Bella in your arms?”

I nod again, bracing for the judgment I know is coming.

He lets out a slow breath. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

“She ambushed me,” I say tightly. “Tried to convince me to keep seeing her. Said she didn’t care if I was married.”

Leon drags a hand down his face. “Of course she did. Bella’s been obsessed with you for years.”

I stare at him, unblinking. “It was a setup.”

His eyes meet mine, dark and calculating. “Damn right it was.”

A slow, simmering rage builds in my chest. Whoever sent those photos wanted to drive a wedge between me and Yelena. Wanted to make her question my loyalty before I even had the chance to prove it. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.

Leon exhales sharply. “You don’t need me to bring her in. You could call her, and she’d come running.”

I shake my head. “No. I want her handled like I’d handle any other problem. I want her under my control, answering to me, not thinking she has the upper hand.”

Leon studies me for a long moment, then nods. “I’ll bring her in.”

I lean back in my chair, my muscles coiled tight. “Good.”

Leon turns to leave but pauses at the door. “Be careful, Aithan. This? This has all the makings of a trap.”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to. I already know he’s right.

The moment Bella steps into the room, her scent invades my space—some kind of seductive and expensive perfume, just like always. She’s wearing a fitted red dress, her blonde hair in soft waves, and she moves with the confidence of a woman who thinks she holds power over me.

She doesn’t. She never did.

“Finally,” she purrs, stepping forward as if she belongs here. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me for real.”

I don’t move from my seat behind my desk. I don’t offer her a drink. I don’t smile. Instead, I let the silence stretch between us, watching as unease flickers across her features.

She stops a few feet away, her confidence faltering. “You asked for me.”

I nod. “I did.”

Her lips curl in satisfaction, but it vanishes when I toss the envelope onto the desk between us. The photos spill out, glossy images of her in my arms, damning evidence of a crime I didn’t commit.

Her eyes widen before she schools her expression into something more composed. “What’s this?”

“You tell me,” I say, my voice low and cold. “Someone sent these to my wife.”

She lifts one of the photos, tilting her head. “Oh?”

I push back from my chair, standing slowly. “Don’t play dumb, Bella.”

Her eyes flick to mine, calculating. “I didn’t send them.”

I study her, reading the subtle shifts in her expression. She’s not lying.

“You set this up.”

She scoffs, placing a hand on her hip. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re desperate,” I say simply. “And desperate people do stupid things. Like going to introduce yourself to my wife.”

Her expression hardens. “Five years, Aithan. Five years, and you never once thought to marry me?”

I don’t blink. “I never promised you marriage.”

Her face twists with fury. “I gave you everything.”

“Like?”

She stutters, then breathes in heavily. “That Russian whore won’t love you, Aithan. She will always be a Xéni .”

My patience snaps. I slam my hand on the desk, making her flinch. “Watch your mouth Bella. You will never call my wife a stranger. Never again. I’m letting you walk out of here because of the last five years. But the next time you insult my wife, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

A flicker of fear crosses her face, and she looks like she is about to cry.

“Do I make myself clear?”

She nods and practically flees from my presence.

Leon steps back in, his arms crossed. “She’s hiding something.”

I nod. “Find out who took those photos.”

Leon sighs. “And how do you intend to clean up this mess with Yelena?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with her.”

Leon smirks. “Good luck with that.”

I don’t need luck. I need control.

And I intend to take it back.