Chapter 161
From her lips to her jaw, then down the slender curve of her neck.
Hestia kept her eyes closed, surrendering to the trail of kisses he pressed into her skin. In all the years of her previous marriage, she had never once felt like this—cherished like something precious and desired with such raw intensity.
William's movements were commanding yet gentle, carrying a steadying warmth that quieted every restless thought in her mind.
The night deepened.
The bedroom lights had dimmed to a soft glow. Their intertwined silhouettes stretched long against the wall.
She lost track of how long they kissed. Long enough that time itself seemed to dissolve.
When the intensity finally ebbed, the exhaustion she'd been holding at bay crashed over her in a wave.
She leaned into William's broad chest, her breathing gradually slowing into a deep, even rhythm.
William went still.
He looked down at the woman asleep in his arms. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, the tension between her brows completely smoothed away. Her hands still clutched the front of his shirt, an unconscious gesture of trust.
He didn't push for more.
He knew she was utterly spent and needed real rest.
William reached for the comforter and pulled it over them both, tightening his arms around her. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.
He closed his eyes.
A dreamless sleep took them both.
...
The next morning.
Early light filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting a bright strip across the bedroom carpet.
Hestia opened her eyes.
The space beside her was empty, but William's clean, woodsy scent still lingered on the pillow.
She reached over and touched the sheets. Already cool. He must have been up for a while.
She sat up and stretched, working the pleasant soreness from her limbs.
Memories of last night's kisses—unrestrained and blazing—drifted through her mind. The corner of her mouth curved upward before she could stop it.
She pushed back the covers, padded to the bathroom to wash up, then stepped out of the bedroom.
The first-floor living room was quiet. At the top of the stairs, the warm aroma of food drifted up from the open kitchen below.
Hestia made her way downstairs, her footsteps light.
In the kitchen, William stood at the island counter.
He wore a simple white dress shirt today, sleeves rolled to the elbows, exposing his toned forearms.
Those same hands that usually gripped a pen over contracts and merger documents were now holding a skillet, expertly flipping a fried egg.
Beside him sat freshly made toast and a glass of just-squeezed orange juice.
Morning sunlight fell across his profile, casting a warm, golden glow over a man who normally seemed untouchable.
Hestia paused in the kitchen doorway and watched him for a moment.
Then she crossed the room, slipped behind him, and wrapped her arms gently around his waist, pressing her cheek against the solid warmth of his back.
William's body tensed for a fraction of a second, then relaxed.
He turned off the burner and turned around.
He looked down at her.
In the morning light, her skin was luminous—bare of any makeup yet glowing with a natural, healthy flush.
He said nothing. One arm circled her waist, drawing her close, and he lowered his head to kiss her.
A soft good-morning kiss, lazy with the ease of early hours.
Hestia closed her eyes and looped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.
"Whoa."
A small voice piped up from the kitchen doorway.
Hestia's eyes flew open. She jerked back a step as if she'd touched a live wire.
Cecil stood by the doorframe in cartoon pajamas.
The little boy had both hands clapped over his eyes—but his fingers were spread wide apart, his bright eyes peeking through with undisguised excitement.
When he caught Hestia's flustered gaze, he dropped his hands, clapped them over his mouth, and dissolved into giggles.
"I didn't see anything! Carry on, Dad!"
He spun around and scampered off on his little legs, his clear, delighted laughter echoing down the hallway.
Heat flooded Hestia's cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. She could keep her composure through boardroom battles and courtroom drama, but a child's gleeful teasing was a different kind of weapon entirely.
She ducked her head and tried to step out of William's arms.
"I should go check if he's washed up—"
The arm around her waist tightened.
William didn't let go. Instead, he pulled her back against him. A low, rumbling laugh vibrated through his chest—unhurried and openly pleased.
"He can handle it himself."
He dipped his head, his warm breath brushing her ear.
Hestia looked up at him. Before she could say a word, his mouth found hers again.
This time, it wasn't a gentle graze.
He cradled the back of her head and deepened the kiss.
Sunlight poured over them both.
Hestia's heartbeat quickened. She gave up resisting, closed her eyes, and let herself sink into a kiss that tasted of fresh orange juice and warm cedar.
---
That afternoon. A mall in the city center.
Hestia pushed open the glass door of the coffee shop and settled into a seat by the window.
Donna was already there.
She'd ordered an iced Americano and was scrolling through her phone.
When Hestia sat down, Donna looked up. Her gaze locked onto Hestia's face.
She stared for a solid minute. Then she set down her coffee cup and leaned forward.
"Something's different about you."
Hestia was scanning the menu. She glanced up, her tone casual. "Different how?"
"Everything about you is different." Donna's eyes swept over her like a radar dish. "Before, when you went out, sure, you always looked put together—but you gave off this 'don't come near me' frost. Today? There's a smile in your eyes, your skin is glowing, and you've got this light about you. That is one hundred percent the look of a woman who's getting loved right."
Donna slapped the table and dropped her voice, her tone absolute. "You're seeing someone. Spill. Who's the guy?"
Hestia set down the menu and took a sip of coffee.
She hadn't planned on keeping it from Donna.
"William." She let the name fall simply.
"Pffft—" Donna nearly spit her iced Americano across the table. She grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them to her mouth, eyes wide as saucers.
"Who? William? The Marshall Group William?"
Hestia nodded. "Mm-hmm."
Donna fell back against the booth, stunned into silence. It took her a long moment to process the bombshell.
Once the shock faded, pure elation took its place.
"Incredible!" Donna smacked her thigh in excitement. "Hestia, your taste has finally leveled up! Do you realize what tier William is? He's the real deal in Seaside City—gorgeous, built like a Greek god, and most importantly, he's a million times better than that blind, worthless excuse of a man Aaron!"
Donna's enthusiasm was snowballing. "Look at you right now—this is what being in love is supposed to look like. Back with the Harvey family, you were like a machine running on empty. Now? You're literally radiating. You've found the one. I approve with every fiber of my being!"
Hestia couldn't help but laugh at Donna's theatrics.
She turned her head toward the floor-to-ceiling window beside them.
Her reflection gazed back at her in the glass.
The exhaustion and the quiet suffocation were gone. Her features were relaxed, open—at ease in a way she barely recognized.
Even she was a little surprised.
So this was what it felt like—walking away from a relationship that had rotted from the inside and finding someone who actually fit. It really could change a person from the ground up.
"Alright, dial down the dramatics." Hestia looked away from the glass and picked up her bag, rising to her feet. "Didn't you say you needed to shop for the new season? Let's go."