by Celia Crown
I am lonely, but I know that he has to take care of business. He says that it is important that he takes care of the matter immediately or dire consequence will transpire.
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but he always comes to bed with me.
Kace doesn’t miss the meals or our morning and nights; he only disappears when I’m entertaining our son. He is a bundle of joy that keeps on smiling even if his father is a bit busy at the moment, but Kace doesn’t hesitate to show his love for us all the time.
He’s been on edge after the FBI’s visit about that pair of siblings; the agents said they were missing, and the last time they were seen was at the manor where they have the meeting time and place written down in their calendar.
I thought they went home after that incident where I clumsy fell down the stairs.
The police had search warrants for the old manor since we moved the day we got married, which was the day after we had our first intimate night together. Kace was rough that day, and I was too sore by the time he was done with me, and I haven’t questioned his love for me ever since.
My baby coos in my arms as I lay sideways to watch him sleep. His little fingers curl with one of mine to bring a comforting sense to his sleep; he is a mama’s boy as he doesn’t sleep unless I am at his side.
He takes that trait after his father.
I can't resist the urge to rub his chubby cheeks; he has been eating so much, his appetite is monstrous, and he grows bigger every day.
He babbles incoherently and giggles in his sleep, cooing with every kiss that I give to his cheek.
The night is coming in quick during the summer; the cool air is replaced by the small waves of heat that regulate a perfect room temperature in the manor to prevent the baby and me from getting a cold.
My eyes drop with the silence as I get tired easily these days. After our baby, my body likes to suddenly sleep at random times to rejuvenate.
I must have fallen asleep under the covers with my baby’s head breathing right beside mine. The thing I notice about the room is that another person is there and I can feel the sinister crackle of air breathing down my neck.
My mother instinct kicks in, and I’m bolting up from the bed, one hand putting a barrier between the man and my baby. When I hear the familiar chuckle and a whisper of my name, my body relaxes, knowing that I don’t have to fight a man more than three times my size.
He isn’t an intruder. He is my husband and the father of our baby.
“Where did you go?” I drowsily ask.
The answer he gives me is vague and the same as everything else when I ask him anything related to that FBI warrant to search our previous home. I have an inkling that his disappearance has something to do with the government, but I don’t know for sure.
Sometimes my gut is the opposite direction of the truth, and that gets me in trouble.
“Do not worry about it,” he says, and the repetitive broken record starts playing like the other times.
“I will not let any harm come to you or our child.”
Kace smiles with his eyes dark and intense; he’s unwaveringly serious when he pressed his lips onto mine before kissing our baby’s forehead. He recognizes his father’s scent and sighs from his restless sleep.
He is a brilliant liar.
A truly bad man. I have known something is different about him; he is not a prince charming nor is a savior; he is a taker and a bringer of death to my independence. Somewhere during our relationship, I figure that I should stop asking questions that will ultimately give me the runaround.
Kace would never hurt me, and deep down, I know that he would do everything to protect me even if it’s something that treads on the side of immoral.
Even to keep me ignorant to the way the press paints him as the most depraved husband; a dragon guarding a tower where the princess is locked and shielded from the rest of the world, and all princes and knights have been defeated.
They were never heard from again.
It’s scary when they portray Kace in that light, but that does not stop rich investors from coming to him for wine. It made his branding explode in the spotlight, but I can’t tell if the smile on Kace’s face is genuine or not when he is interviewed.
Fake is the most likely answer, but assuming answers has gotten me in hot water before.
“Go to sleep, my love,” he whispers, aware of the sleeping baby as he runs a hand down the unruly hair.
Our son is a mold from Kace; his appearance is a perfect replica, and I wonder if his personality is going to be inherited. I doubt that he will be anything but his father’s mirrored reflection; behavior can be learned and Kace is a figure that demands attention, whether it is bad or good intentions.
“Hurry back,” I murmur, eyelids dropping at the white slash of his smile.
Beautiful and dangerous, Kace is such a puzzle that I still haven’t cracked the first layer of his many facades yet.
He thinks I’m joking when I tell him that there is something inside of him; not pure to the least, but not too evil that it’s revolting.
Even dogs are terrified of him.
Kace waves me off and says that I have an active imagination. He does not believe me when I tell him that he is complicated, with too many layers of secrets and too many levels of façades, but every side of him is himself too.
There is a piece of him at every turn, and I honestly thought he had multiple personalities from how easily he can change from a loving husband to a ruthless dictator. I have heard rumors that Kace is hard to deal with, but I don’t agree with them because he is adoring and loves me with everything he’s got.
My eyes open the moment he removes the suit jacket, the glaring red at the back of his white dress shirt should be alarming as it might be an indicator of injuries.
It doesn’t raise any alarm bells in my head, and it’s not the first time I have seen red on him. Working with wine is messy; any brush against something will turn his clothes red, and it’s a hassle to clean one barrel at a time.
Or so he says, but what do I know about winemaking when I have a master professional telling me the truth.
His shower is quick and swift, and then he is in bed with us. Cuddling closer so put himself closest to the door; he picks that spot because I’ll fall off the bed with a roll and it’s to put himself in harm’s way for more time to let me escape with our child.
“Are you alright?” I ask again, but I’m asking for his well-being.
I don’t care about the wine. He is my husband, and he has been working too hard.
“Business has been, how should I put this, brutal,” Kace laces our hand under the cover and brings it up to kiss the knuckle with a big diamond ring on it.
It’s so big that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having that much money at the top of my hand. I have all access to his money, and he doesn’t care how I spend it, but old habits die hard when I was a struggling student trying to survive paycheck by paycheck.
The habit of saving money and only buying what I need sticks with me and I’m glad it did. This is practically the same scenario where lottery winners blow through their money and have this cloud of bad look around them; it’s a lottery curse.
My curse is not a curse, but it’s a gift that gave me a baby boy and a husband who is an undiagnosed sadistic.
It’s all because of my overactive imagination as my husband points out.
“I want to have a family date tomorrow,” he comments, a faint smile ghosting on his lips the greens of his eyes shine brighter than the hundred-thousand-dollar ring.
He doesn’t want decorative diamonds on his; he likes his plain. It’s a simple silver band that has the engraving of my name on it along with our wedding day.
Malia Hawkins. It works with a flow of calm water and a thunderous crackle, two different elements that are just like us.
“Lunch date?” I mutter sleepily.
I almost miss the wicked gleam of his eyes, “No, I was
thinking of taking the month off from work. I realize I have been neglecting you and our son for troublesome business disagreements.”
“I hope everything is okay,” I say with a sigh, sleep slowly quarantining me in my own world to ignore that wicked double meaning of his words.
“Yes, everything is fine. I have taken care of it. No danger will fall upon you or our son; I will not allow it.”
That set determination lures me to the final step of my sleep.
“They cannot take you from me.”
Finale
Author’s other works!
Noir MC Series
KANE (Noir MC - Book 1)
VLAD (Noir MC - Book 2)
DEAN (Noir MC - Book 3)
Standalone
Pretty Girl
Marionette
Black Clover
Whisper My Name
Claiming Lily
Daddy King
Flawed Temptation
Wicked Temptation
Daddy’s Little Bait
The Debt Collector
His Sapphire Witch
King Size
Sugar Daddies
Sinful Red
Virgin Spark
Beasts
Doctor’s Indecent Fixation
Touch-Starved
Chained
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