Life on the water is everything I’ve dreamt of. Susan, Josh, and I take our small boat out on weekends. Who would’ve guessed I’d enjoy fishing? I make friends with our neighbors, and Josh has plenty of play dates. People still recognize me wherever I go, but the novelty of being stared at is wearing off. I’m getting better at coping with it and diverting the curious questions.
Sometimes, I get the feeling someone is watching me. A few times, I notice men trailing me in traffic or shopping malls. I know they’re Damian’s men. He’s become a powerful man. He has alliances in all the right places, including the law enforcement department. During all the time I’m making a home for Josh and a new life for myself, there’s no news from him, not even a phone call. I keep in touch with Brink, who tells me Damian is living alone in the big house, throwing himself into work. When the longing gets too much, I call Fouché, who tells me Damian is doing fine. I can’t help myself from asking if he has someone new in his life. According to Fouché, every single woman, widow, and gold digger is running after him, but he’s not seeing anyone. The news warms my heart. I haven’t signed the divorce papers. I still have a chance.
Three months after Russell brought me home from the hospital, a man in a blue suit knocks on my door. It’s a sunny Saturday morning. Josh is playing with his new train in the backyard while I’m baking scones for breakfast. Susan gets the door and tells me a messenger wants to see me.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I meet the man at the door. “Can I help you?”
His manner is curt and professional. “I’m here on Mr. Hart’s request, ma’am.”
“Yes?” I say, even if I already know what the visit is about.
“He would like for you to sign the divorce papers.”
“Thank you for letting me know, but you didn’t have to drive all the way out here just to tell me this.”
“You don’t understand. I’m to wait for the papers and deliver them to him.”
“I’ll deliver them myself, thank you.”
“When?”
I give him a hard look. “When I’m ready.”
“Sorry, ma’am, but if I return empty-handed, Mr. Hart would like to know a date.”
“Soon.”
I close the door before he can say more. I’m being rude, but I’m not going to communicate with my husband via a messenger. Anyway, it’s time I face Damian. I’ve healed from the gunshot, Josh is adapting well in his crèche, Susan is happy here, and I’m a working mom earning a decent salary. I’ve done what I set out to do. This can’t be put off, any longer.
After lunch, I put on a pretty dress and make-up, and tell Susan I’ll be out for the rest of the afternoon. The drive to Erasmuskloof has my stomach churning and my insides twisting. Despite everything, I’m not sure what kind of a reception I’ll get. I’m not even sure how Damian feels about seeing me. I’m certain he loves me, or he wouldn’t have given me my freedom, my inheritance, and a house, but maybe he doesn’t want to be a dad. Maybe he doesn’t see himself living with a family. Maybe I come with too much baggage. Damian is wealthy and successful. His criminal record has been cleared. Like Fouché said, women are falling over themselves to be the next in line to wear his diamonds. The choice is wide with much more enticing and less complicated partners than me. Still, I’m not going to allow my fear to stop me from paying him this visit. I have to do this. If he sends me away after I’ve spoken my mind, I’ll respect his choice and sign the papers, no matter how hard it’ll be.
There’s a new guard at the gate who doesn’t know me. He tells me to get out of the car so he can search me. At least Damian is home. It was a gamble, but I didn’t want to warn him of my visit in the fear he’d refuse me. At the sight of my arms, the guard apologizes profusely.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hart. I didn’t recognize you.”
“No problem. You’re just doing your job.”
He runs to the guardhouse to dial the house. I hold my breath as he speaks into the intercom. What if Damian doesn’t let me in? I’m biting my nails as I wait for the verdict, but the gates swing open and the guard waves me through.
The grass has been burnt in preparation for summer. I itch to check the bat boxes but drive straight to the house and park in the circular driveway. My heart batters my ribs as I approach the door. It’s both foreign and familiar. I remember coming here after our wedding like yesterday, and yet, it feels like it was years ago. That I have to knock is a bad sign. If Damian were excited to see me, he would’ve met me at the door. Placing a hand protectively over my stomach, I wait.
I’m taken aback when the door opens to a stranger’s face.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hart. I’m Klara, the housekeeper. Please come inside.”
Damian employed a housekeeper. That’s not good. He wouldn’t have done that if he weren’t planning on staying indefinitely in a house he once claimed to find old and stuffy.
I follow Klara up the familiar staircase to the study, my courage failing with every step. When she leaves me in front of the door, I take a deep breath and knock.
“Come in,” Damian’s deep voice calls from inside.
I have an irrational urge to fling the door open and rush into his arms. I recall the day of our wedding, when he’d brought me here and offered me a drink to settle my nerves. I remember the hostility and the fear. I want to start over, with a clean slate. It’s that hope that makes me behave like a teenager, yanking open the door, ready to take the biggest gamble of my life.
I realize my mistake too late. Damian isn’t alone. Tony is with him. They’re sitting on opposite sides of the big desk, papers spread out in front of them. Tony jerks his head toward me. His eyes flare in surprise.
Damian’s face is expressionless. He looks at me like one would look at the selection of coffee in a supermarket, wondering which brand to buy. My confidence takes a knock, but I stand my ground.
Damian’s gaze slips to the brown envelope I clutch in my hand. “Tony, you remember Lina.”
Tony clears his throat and looks back at Damian. “That should wrap it up. I’ll send you the buyer list.”
He gathers his papers and stuffs them into a satchel before flitting past me and out the door. I suppose our first encounter in this room was enough for Tony. He’s not sticking around to witness what will happen this time. Both Damian and I have been followed relentlessly by paparazzi. It’s common knowledge we don’t live together.
When the front door bangs, I’m suddenly over-conscious of the awkward silence in the study.
“Hi.” I cringe inwardly at how hoarse my voice sounds.
“Hello, Lina. You look well.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
“Drink?”
I can do with one, but I’m not drinking alcohol. I’d rather just get to the many points I want to tick off my list, starting with, “You didn’t come to see me in hospital.”
He folds his hands together. “I was there.”
“While I was unconscious.”
“I thought it would be easier that way.”
His eyes track my movement as I walk to his desk. “Easier for who?”
“Both of us.”
I don’t take the seat Tony has left, but sit down on the corner of the desk, so close I can touch his arm if I reach out. “There are things I wanted to say to you.”
His demeanor is cold, distant. “Why are you here?”
I drop the envelope in front of him.
He doesn’t as much as glance at it. “You could’ve given it to my messenger.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving my life. For the house. For my sanity. For giving me freedom.” I swallow down untimely emotions that bubble to the surface. “For Josh.”
“Thanks for speaking out and getting my record cleared. We’re even.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to Switzerland to kill Dora.”
“I didn’t kill Dora.”
/>
“Not technically.”
“What’s your point?”
“Did you hold a gun to her head so she’d swallow the pills?”
“I gave her a choice. She chose pills.”
“Why did you do it?”
“To avenge you. She deserved nothing less.”
“How did you find Josh?”
“I asked Dalton.”
“Right before you dropped him.”
His nostrils flare. “Yes, right before I sent him to the fate he had planned for you.” There’s a chill to his voice. “Seems fitting, no?”
“Your men are still following me.”
“Are they bothering you?”
“No. I was just wondering why you’d think I still need protection.”
“The world is full of threats, Lina. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Is it going to be a permanent thing?”
“Yes, a permanent thing.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s not the way I see it, but security stays, regardless. The mere fact that you were once connected to me will always make you a potential target.”
“Were?” I bite my lip, imploring him with my eyes.
“You got what you wanted. I thought you’d moved on.”
“You can say that. I’ve been very busy building a new life.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Then there’s nothing left to say.”
I motion at the envelope. “Open it.”
He glares at me, his bitter chocolate eyes hostile. It reminds me of how it was when we first got together. This is worse, because there’s no lust in his regard. There’s no thirst for revenge. There’s nothing. It’s enough to make me want to flee, but I’m not giving up this easily.
“Open it. Please.”
Pursing his lips, he pulls the envelope toward him, but he doesn’t open it. He just stares at the brown paper under his palm. I can’t help but notice the largeness of his hand and the veins that disappear under his sleeve shirt. I remember the feel of those hands on my skin, and I long for it with such intensity my chest hurts. There was a time, not so long ago, when touching Damian was my freedom. His house was my prison, but I had access to his body. Now I am free, and the liberties of intimacy are no longer part of my privileges. It’s a crazy reversed situation, but I know what I want.
After a while, he lifts his eyes to mine. “I suppose I deserve this.”
“What?”
“Revenge.”
He’s referring to the time he made me fuck him for a copy of the evidence, but he’s got the reason I’m doing this wrong.
Finally, he reaches for the letter opener and cuts through the seal. He’s all business-like as he pulls out the white sheets. It’s as if he’s adopted a professional persona to distance himself from me and what he expects to find inside. He looks at the bottom of the first page where my initials are missing, and then flips through the stack, coming to a halt on the last page where only his signature is signed.
There’s genuine confusion on his face when he looks back at me. “What game are you playing? Aren’t you happy with the terms? Do you need more money? What is it you want?”
“You.”
He places the papers on his desk, meticulously square, and pushes them away. “No.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“It’s not going to happen.”
I have to force the word from my throat. “Why?”
He gets to his feet. “I’ll see you out.”
My voice rises with the anguish that’s slicing through me. “I deserve a reason.”
“Don’t do this, Lina.”
“Is it Josh? Is it because I have a child?” If it’s because he doesn’t want children, we’re definitely over.
“Jesus, no.” He drags a hand over his face. “It’s got nothing to do with Josh.”
“What then? I know you love me, or you wouldn’t have offered me a divorce.”
“Do you know how fucking wrong that sounds?”
“Yes,” I whisper, “but we’ve never been your average couple. I love you, Damian. You know. You’ve always known.”
“You wanted your freedom, and you deserve it.”
“I wanted the freedom to be independent, to make my own choices, not to be free of our marriage.”
“It was too damn hard to let you go once. I can’t do it again.”
A flicker of hope lifts from the ashes of my emotions. “I choose you. I choose us, if you’ll have me with my baggage and child.”
Pressing his hands on either side of my body, he cages me in with his arms. “You don’t understand. If I take you back, I’m never letting you go. Ever. If you make this choice, you’re stuck with me. Letting you go nearly killed me. I won’t have the strength to do it again. If you let me back into your life, you belong to me for as long as we both shall live.” His regard is fierce, angry almost. “Can you handle that?”
If his speech was supposed to put me off, it didn’t work. I know what I’m letting myself in for. “I’m not letting go, either. You’re mine, Damian. You can come back home with me, and we can learn to be a family, each with our space to grow, and you can tell those women running after you to back the hell off because you’re taken.” I flash him my wedding band and ridiculously big diamond. “This ring says so, and so does the contract we both signed on the day you married me.”
He clenches his jaw as he searches my eyes. Two seconds pass. “You better be damn well sure about this.”
Snaking my arms around his neck, I plant a kiss on his lips. “I wouldn’t have been here if I weren’t. I came to take you home.”
Emotions run through his eyes. Still he doubts me, fights me. “You waited three fucking months to tell me this?”
“I had a life to sort out. I’m not coming to you broken and needing to be fixed. I’m coming to you whole, offering you everything I have, if you’ll have it.”
He rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Lina.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
He grins against my lips. “Fuck, yes.”
“That’s better.”
He cups my ass, jerking me to the edge of the desk and against his hardness. “There’s something else that’ll be even better.”
“Wait.” I push on his chest. “There’s more I need to say.”
He growls. “Can you say it quickly? It’s been a while.”
“I’m pregnant.”
He releases me so fast he stumbles a step back. “What?”
My hope dwindles again. Maybe he doesn’t want this, but he’s the one who refused me birth control. “We didn’t use protection, Damian.”
“I know that. Say it again.”
“I’m pregnant.”
He looks shell-shocked, but also something else. He looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time, and when his gaze drops to my stomach, there’s reverence in his eyes.
He lifts those dark, haunted eyes to my face. “How long?”
“Three months.”
His jaw locks. “You should’ve told me.”
“I wanted to sort out my life, first. I needed that time alone, and I knew you wouldn’t grant it to me if we got together again.”
He drags a hand over his face, staring at me with that stunned look.
“If this isn’t what you want,” I continue, “I’ll understand.”
“If this isn’t what I want.” He raises his head to the ceiling and closes his eyes. When he looks back at me, he appears upset. “I knew exactly what I was doing fucking you without a condom.”
“Then we’re okay?”
“No, Lina. We’re not okay. We’re better than okay.”
“You mean you’re happy?”
He lets out a long breath. “Ecstatic.” Grabbing me to him, he crushes me in his arms. “But if you ever hold back information of this proportion from me again, anything that concerns you, me, or us, there’ll be consequences, and you’re not
going to like them.”
“You burnt your whips and paddles.”
“There are other ways,” he says in a low voice, his lips ghosting over mine.
“Denying me orgasms is a hard limit.”
“Fine. We can go shopping for toys.”
“Toys?”
“I’m a semi-sadist, and you enjoy the pain.”
“Semi-pain,” I correct.
“Semi,” he agrees, “but from now on, I want to know everything. I want to know when you have a menstrual cramp and when you bump your toe.” He taps my temple. “I want to know when you’re sad or have a doubt. Can you do that for me?”
“Can you give me space?”
After a couple of seconds, he asks, “How much space?”
“Enough to be me.”
“Yeah.” He frames my face between his hands. “That’s doable, because I want all of you, everything you are, and everything you’re yet to become.”
Biting my lip, I give him a sultry look. “I think this can work.”
“I know it can.” He slides me off the desk and lifts me into his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to fuck you until you pass out, but seeing you’re in a delicate condition, I’m going to make love to you until the sun comes up.”
My laugh is happy. Free. “I have to get home. I have to be there for Josh when he goes to bed.”
“I know. That’s why I’m coming with you.”
I rest my head on his shoulder. “You are?”
“You’re never sleeping alone again, Mrs. Hart.”
“That’s the best promise I’ve heard in a long time.” When he starts moving toward the door, I press a hand on his chest. “Wait. What about the house? What about the garden and the bats?”
“Stop worrying about the bats.”
“But—”
“I had a good offer for the house. The buyer is a nature conservationist. He wants to maintain things as they are.”
I can’t help but smirk. “Things?”
“Are you being condescending? I think I need to teach you a thing or two, put your new brave pussy back in its place.”
My smile is so big it stretches my cheek muscles.
“Do that again,” he commands in a husky voice.
“Do what again?”
“Smile for me.”
Beauty in the Broken: A Diamond Magnate Novel Page 42