Page 140 of King of Ashes
She loves when I am in charge, now even more so because it absolves her of any guilt. I won’t have that.
Zara will learn that nothing can come between her love and desire for me while I exercise patience, waiting for her to be ready to listen to my side of the story. She’ll surrender. Eventually.
I am not above slandering a dead person; the asshole surely deserves that, but when I tried the first time, it confirmed my greatest fear. She spiraled, and I thought I would lose her for good.
A mischievous smile curls at her mouth, and she crawls on the sectional to me on her hands and knees, making me swallow hard.
I tip my head back, looking up at the morning sky, but there’s no solution to my predicament, so I draw my eyes back to my beautiful madness. She takes a forkful of omelet before biting into its fluffy consistency, hard enough that I know she imagines biting off something else.
“Such a good girl,” I grunt.
Sadly for her, she won’t be able to. She is too fucking desperate for my cock.
I eat unperturbed, knowing she’s after a fight. I won’t give it to her.
We must find a solution, a way to cope with the past and live in the present—to be the perfect team. That proves challenging when one of us constantly sabotages the other’s attempts.
I will tire her out. With patience. With love.
I won’t give up. Not now. Not ever.
32
ZARA
Another two days pass while I linger in purgatory.
I watch him swim laps in the pool, imagining his blood painting it red, only for my heart to twist, wishing it didn’t.
It is what it is.
Nine more days until I’ll be free. He gave me his word, and he will keep it. He has to.
I palm my belly, emotions lodging thick in my throat. “That’s your daddy. I don’t know if you’re going to meet him, though, because he drives me insane. He did the unforgivable, and Mommy can’t forgive him.”
That’s the reality he refuses to accept. Erasing my memories is something I can’t overlook.
One of these days, I will ask him why he killed my father, but something inside me rebels, aware everything will change.
I expect him to tell me, but he doesn’t. He loves tormenting me, aware that once I ask, I am ready to hear his side. And that feels like surrender—one he won’t get.
Like that one time in the shower. It was a lapse in judgment as emotions overthrew common sense.
Here I am, thinking all these big words and fortifying my walls with a conviction he quickly eradicates. He only has to touch me, and I dissolve into a puddle of need.
Body betrayal syndrome. I am too weak for him, and the asshole knows me—apparently better than I know myself. No wonder he so easily fooled me, tricking me into falling in love with him for a second time.
I stare at my wedding band and engagement ring—the undeniable proof that something was fishy. This man doesn’t share; he loves to possess. Yet he accepted me wearing someone else’s ring? I feel like the biggest fool, especially since I was jealous of myself.
His strong arms thread through the water with such elegance and skill, a predator skimming the surface—always in control. He’s a shark in and out of a suit.
He shouldn’t exert himself, but he can do whatever the fuck he wants. While I came to unplug him, he pulled the rug from under my feet. The irony isn’t lost on me.
I can lie all I want, but I am glad he survived. I would have lost it if the worst had happened.
I fondle my belly, a deep sigh tearing from my soul. “Your daddy is an asshole. I hate him. Especially because nothing he could do would make me fall out of love with him.”
That’s the biggest struggle. A battle I will lose.
