talie

“Ready for the yacht trip next weekend?” Char asked as we walked down the sidewalk.

“So our parents can reannounce my marriage to Damian?” I muttered bitterly. “Oh yeah, it’s going to be great.”

“At least the bar will be fully stocked. We can make it fun.”

Other than our immediate families, the only other people who would be on the yacht were those who worked or were partners with our fathers and their families.

While the yacht was gorgeous and had all the amenities, I wouldn’t be able to relax.

Every time I stepped out of my room, I’d have to make sure I was presentable by my father’s standards.

“Are you going home tonight?”

My stomach flipped at the question. By home, she meant Connecticut. It was Sunday afternoon, and I hadn’t seen Damian since I snuck into his club. I’d been ignoring his calls and texts, not wanting to deal with him.

“You could tell him. How you were playing music at the club,” Char said quietly. “Damian might be part of this world, but he’s not that bad, Talie. He won’t tell Dad what you’re doing.”

“Maybe not. But he could stop me from doing it.” I opened the door to the hotel, and we walked inside. “You saw him the other night, Char. He was pissed. He’s worried I’m going to do something to embarrass the families and then it will get back to our parents.”

“Really?” she asked, a note of teasing in her voice. “Because from what you told me about the conversation, he was more interested in who you were with, not what you were doing.”

I rolled my eyes. “He doesn’t care. It’s about control.”

When we entered the elevator, I caught my sister biting her lip. Which meant she wanted to say something she knew would get under my skin.

“Just say it,” I grumbled.

“You haven’t seen your husband for five years,” she stated. “I have. He came to every holiday dinner acting like the perfect son-in-law in front of Dad.”

“Of course he did. That’s how he is.”

“Talie.” Her voice was firm. “He always talked about you in a loving way. He cares about you. He let you stay out of the country when he could have made you come back.”

I bristled. “ Made me . That’s part of the problem.”

“I know. But it’s the truth. He didn’t. I think he’s jealous because he believes you’re sleeping with someone else instead of playing music like you really are.”

“He was furious the other night.” I stepped off the elevator. “The way he acted was ridiculous. I’m not telling him.”

Maybe it was petty of me, but my husband pissed me off enough that I didn’t care right now.

“Shit,” Char mumbled, looking at her phone.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” She raised her head, a frown on her face. “I completely forgot I had plans with Hayley and Ana. There’s a sorority party tonight, but I can cancel?—”

“No,” I interrupted, giving her a smile. “Go. You spent all weekend with me. This is your last year of college, Char. Go enjoy it.”

“We had dinner plans.”

I glanced at the bar. “They have open seats. I don’t mind eating alone. You know that.”

“You have a way home?”

“I’ll order a car,” I promised. “Go. Have fun.”

She gave me a quick hug. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

After she got back in the elevator, I made my way to the bar, sitting on the stool at the very end. This hotel restaurant was new to me, but Char loved it. Like most of the places she frequented, it was upscale and elegant. I caught myself in the mirror’s reflection behind the liquor bottles.

My heart dipped slightly, noticing the color in my hair was fading.

My makeup was more neutral than I used to wear when I had been living across the ocean.

The light blue dress I was wearing had thin straps and sat just above my knees.

As much as I detested it, I knew how to play the game here, especially when I was in the city.

My father had ties everywhere, and if I was less than perfectly presentable, I’d be hearing about it.

“What can I get you?”

I looked at the bartender, who was smiling at me, giving me his full attention. This place was nearly empty since the dinner rush hadn’t started yet.

“A vodka cranberry, please.”

“Put her drink on my tab. I’ll take a gin and tonic.”

My gaze slid to where a man was dropping on the stool next to me.

His blond hair was styled to the side, and he flashed me a dazzling smile when I met his blue eyes.

One glance at his perfectly fitted suit proved he was someone with money.

I caught sight of his Rolex watch when he slid his credit card on the bar.

“Thank you, but I can buy my own drink,” I stated, giving him a small but firm smile. “I’m not interested.”

He chuckled. “Interested in what? All I’m looking for is a conversation with a beautiful woman.”

Oh, he was laying his charm on thick. I guessed he was probably at least ten years older than me.

While he was definitely nice to look at, he didn’t do it for me.

Fuck me for letting my arrogant as fuck husband get in my head.

Even if I loved to provoke Damian about sleeping with other men, I had no plan or desire to actually do it.

Something I would never admit to him until he proved to me he could change—to create a tolerable marriage for me too.

“I’m Grant.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

“I’m not interested.”

The bartender set my drink in front of me, and I muttered a thank you, pulling out a few bills, setting them down to make it clear I was paying for my own drink.

“Keep the change,” I told the bartender.

I could feel Grant’s eyes on me, but ignored him, having every intention of leaving. Until I turned slightly, catching sight of someone sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant. My breath caught in my throat, shock hitting me in the chest.

Damian was sitting there, a whiskey in his hand as he looked at his phone.

I sat frozen on the stool, staring at my husband in disbelief.

Did he follow me here? The surprise faded, anger quickly replacing it.

He wasn’t looking at me right this moment, but he knew I was here.

Silent fury was radiating from him. His body was rigid, his hand tight around his phone.

I could tell his teeth were clenched all the way from over here.

My eyes darted back to Grant, fury taking over my actions. My husband had the audacity to follow me because he didn’t trust me?

Well then, let him fucking watch.

Shifting on the stool, I turned until I was facing Grant, who was distracted by his phone. I crossed one leg over the other, causing my dress to ride up my thighs. His eyes cut to my bare legs as he hastily slid his phone back into his suit jacket pocket.

“Where do you work, Grant?” I asked, giving him my full attention.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he quickly composed himself, leaning even closer before answering. “I own my own company.”

“Impressive.” I sipped my drink. “So does my husband.”

He faltered for a moment, and I stared at him, waiting to see what he was going to do. His confident grin returned when he cocked his head.

“What kind of husband lets his stunning wife eat dinner alone?” he questioned in a low voice. “Doesn’t sound like he’s satisfying you.”

I giggled. “He tries.”

My pulse thudded, unaware if Damian could hear our conversation or not.

I could only imagine how furious he was while watching this, but I didn’t dare look his way.

Grant scooted the stool until his knees were brushing mine.

I nearly backed away from his unwanted touch, but the defiance running through my veins had me staying still.

“I can satisfy you.” His words came out dirty like he intended, and I barely refrained from rolling my eyes, only further proving I wanted nothing to do with him.

“Can you?” I questioned, smiling at him.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist and dragged my hand away from my drink. My eyes cut to his when his hold tightened.

“Do you not care that I’m married?” I asked bluntly.

“Do you?” he tossed back. “You aren’t running away from me. Don’t worry, I know how to keep a secret. Your husband will never find out.”

Footsteps from behind me had my heart lurching, and Grant’s gaze flicked over my shoulder, a small frown forming on his lips until recognition flared. He released my wrist before hastily getting to his feet.

“Mr. Valentin. We’ve exchanged some emails, but it’s great to meet you in person.”

His greeting cemented the fact that my husband was standing behind me.

I swallowed thickly, a shiver running down my spine as I stayed sitting, facing Grant.

Damian hadn’t even spoken yet, but I could feel his burning stare on the back of my head.

I might have made a mistake doing this right after he already thought I was sneaking around when I was playing music at the club.

“Do I know you?” Damian was using his pleasant business voice, but I didn’t miss the cold edge.

“Grant Hammond,” he replied, sticking out his hand. “I…uh, own Hammond Security.”

He awkwardly lowered his hand when Damian didn’t shake it. My heart hammered against my ribs when Damian’s chest brushed against my back.

“And who is this? Your wife?”

Damian’s question had me biting my tongue as Grant’s eyes narrowed slightly at my husband’s proximity to me.

“No,” Grant answered smoothly. “My date. Our first, actually.”

Oh, shit.

I wasn’t sure if Grant could feel the thick tension in the air, but I could barely suck in a breath.

I was all for messing with my husband, but doing it in public?

I might have gone too far. Damian’s hand landed on my shoulder, his fingers squeezing me tight enough to promise I was in trouble for this stunt.

“Really?” Damian murmured, danger lurking in his voice. “Because the diamond on her finger insinuates she’s already spoken for.”

I had to give Grant credit—he was smart. The second Damian spoke, his face paled, his eyes darting to me before looking back at my husband. My heart thumped painfully in my chest when Damian brushed my hair off my neck, trailing his fingers down the side of my throat.

“I appreciate you keeping my wife company until I arrived. You can go now.”

His cold dismissal had a muscle in Grant’s jaw flexing. His arrogance wasn’t letting him walk away, yet he must really want my husband’s business because he forced a small smile, pulling out his wallet, sliding out a business card.

“I’d love to set a meeting,” he said. “I believe we could be mutually beneficial.”

“You’re mistaking my politeness for me wanting to have anything to do with you,” Damian said, his voice growing harsher with each word. “Let me clarify—you touched my wife. I don’t give a fuck how much your business would help me. This will be the only conversation we’ll ever have.”

Grant’s face reddened, his eyes filling with anger. “She was the one hitting on me. You should learn how to keep your woman in line.”

My lips parted, rage lining my veins. I opened my mouth, but Damian’s hand dropped from my neck as he swiftly stepped around me, putting himself right in front of Grant.

“You have five seconds to get the hell out of my sight, or I’ll make sure you don’t work another fucking day in this city,” he threatened menacingly. “If you know who I am, then you’re aware I can easily make that happen.”

The two of them glared at each other, and I silently stood up, ready to make my exit. I had no desire to deal with my husband’s jealous rage tonight. I backed away as Grant finally spun around, storming out of the restaurant. Damian slowly turned, his piercing stare landing on me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, tilting his head. “We have a dinner date, and lots to talk about.”

His words had my stomach rolling, but I halted my steps, a frown forming on my lips.

“How did you know I was here? Are you following me?” I accused, crossing my arms.

His eyes flashed dangerously, and in two quick strides, he eliminated the space between us. My spine hit the edge of the bar as he caged me in, his palms landing on the counter on either side of me. Swallowing thickly, I tilted my face up to meet his stormy gaze.

“What were you trying to achieve with that show?” His low, grating voice made my heart skip a beat.

I blinked innocently. “Show?”

“ Natalia .” My name rolled off his tongue as a warning, and it only provoked me to keep going.

“Yes?” I purred, raising my hand and wrapping my fingers around his blue tie.

“You interrupted my dinner. How rude of you.” His gruff chuckle was laced with anger, but he didn’t resist when I pulled on his tie, tugging him closer until his lips were an inch from mine.

“You have no right to dictate what I do.”

“I have every right when you’re shamelessly fucking flirting with another man.”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to stop at flirting.” My lie flowed out smoothly, and I didn’t miss how his body went rigid from my words. “I have needs , Damian. Ones you can’t fulfill.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Valentin.”

The nervous voice came from behind my husband. I had no idea who was speaking, but Damian didn’t move a muscle.

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he answered. “Yes?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” the man said in a rush. “But you are attracting attention, and we have the bar reserved for dinner guests?—”

My hand fell from Damian’s tie when he straightened up and turned to face whoever was speaking. I peeked around him to see a man dressed in a nice suit. His small name tag revealed he was the manager of the restaurant.

“Of course,” Damian replied, his voice perfectly pleasant. “I’d like to reserve your private room for an hour.”

My stomach flipped, and I tried sneaking away until Damian wrapped his arm around my waist, locking me to his side.

The manager frowned, looking flustered. “I’m sorry, the room is booked for tonight?—”

“I’ll pay triple.” Damian slid his hand into his suit jacket, taking out his wallet. “And a hefty tip for you if you make sure we aren’t interrupted.”

His arm left my waist to pluck out his black credit card before handing it to the manager. The guy hesitated for only a moment before taking the card, giving my husband a tight smile.

“Enjoy your private dinner, Mr. Valentin.” He motioned for us to follow him.

“I know where the room is.” His fingers interlocked with mine before I could make a run for it.

“I already have dinner plans,” I forced out, planting my feet. My husband didn't scare me, but I didn't want to be alone with him after the game I'd just played.

“Fight me, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder,” he threatened, his voice dead serious. “Do not test me right now.”