Chapter 13 Hundred bows
“I heard the Captain needs company tonight.”
He didn’t move. He only studied her face, the red on her lips, the curve of her smirk.
He didn’t need to ask to know John had arranged her.
A dark, humorless chuckle slipped past his lips. “Hmm. Show me what you’ve got.”
He leaned back in his seat, letting the fire that burned through him since last night find an outlet on one that wasn’t his sister in law.
She knelt before him, unzipping his trousers. His cock sprang free, already hard, pulsing with the need he had been fighting all day.
She licked the tip, then took him fully, her mouth warm and practiced. Her head bobbed up and down.
But as he looked down, his eyes glazed, all he saw was Heaven, her parted lips, her trembling thighs, the way she’d clung to him that night.
His control snapped, his eyes darkened.
He stood abruptly, shoving her away, not caring about the confusion on her face.
He stormed out, the door slammed behind him. The bar’s noise faded as his pulse roared in his ears.
Heaven wanted his attention? She had it.
And now, he was going to fucking ruin her.
His need for her burned hotter than ever, a dark promise driving him toward hers, ready to claim what he couldn’t escape.
\~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Heaven returned from her parents’ place, it was already dark.
The Richard Estate had fallen silent, the kind of silence that pressed against her chest. She stepped carefully into the vast living room, her footsteps echoed faintly across the tiled floor.
“Heaven.”
The voice sliced through the quiet like a blade.
She froze. She already knew who it was. Her mother-in-law had not been happy about her request to go out.
“Yes, Mother,” Heaven answered softly.
Mrs. Richard stood at the top of the staircase, her posture gracious, her expression drawn tight. She had worn nothing but black since the funeral, her face pale and sharp beneath the dim chandelier light.
She looked young for someone who had two grown up sons. She is an epitome of beauty.
“For someone in mourning,” Mrs. Richard said coolly, “you seemed quite at ease going out.”
“I went to see my family,” Heaven murmured.
Mrs. Richard’s lips twitched a smile that wasn’t a smile. “Your family?” she repeated, voice on edge. “The only family you have is Boyle!.”
She exhaled sharply, the sound trembling with restrained grief. “A wife mourning her husband doesn’t run off to visit people. Do you think Boyle would be happy, Heaven? You left him lonely today.”
Tears stung Heaven’s eyes. “I just…”
“Enough,” Mrs. Richard cut in, her tone firm but weary, grief twisted into something colder. “Come with me.”
Heaven followed her through the long corridor, the faint sound of her own breathing the only thing breaking the silence. They stopped before a pair of heavy double doors, Boyle’s altar room.
The air inside was thick with incense and candle wax. Photographs of Boyle lined the walls his uniform, his medals, his smile frozen forever in a world she could never reach.
Mrs. Richard stepped aside and gestured toward the altar. “Kneel.”
Heaven hesitated, but one glance at her mother-in-law’s eyes told her resistance was pointless.
“I said kneel, Heaven.”
Her knees hit the floor, hard against the cold marble. Her palms trembled as she lifted her gaze to Boyle’s framed photo. The flickering candles threw shadows across his face.
“Call his name,” Mrs. Richard whispered. “A hundred times. You owe him that. You left your husband for trivial things when you should have been here praying for his soul. Apologize for forgetting him… for thinking of anything else but him.”
Heaven’s throat tightened. “Boyle…” she whispered.
“Louder,” Mrs. Richard said, closing her eyes as if in prayer.
“Boyle…” Heaven repeated, her voice cracking under the weight of her guilt. Each repetition made her chest ache more. The air felt heavy, suffocating as if grief she was forced to feel was pressing her into the floor.
“Continue,” Mrs. Richard said finally, then turned toward the door.
Before leaving, she paused. “Until you’re done with one hundred bows, do not rise. Remember, Heaven… a wife’s place is with her husband even in death.”
The door shut softly behind her.
Heaven’s heart twisted painfully.
She bowed again and again.
Each bow felt heavier than the last. Each one a punishment.
She didn’t even know which guilt hurt more, the guilt for the man she lost without ever truly knowing, or the guilt for the sin she had committed with the one still living.
By the time Heaven completed her hundredth bow, her hair clung to her face, her clothes drenched with sweat, her breath came shallow, and her body trembled. She staggered to her feet and pushed the heavy door open.
Butler Rose stood waiting with a cup of water, her eyes soft with pity.
Mrs. Richard hadn’t always been this way.
Grief had hollowed her out, leaving behind only a shadow that knew how to hurt others as much as it hurt itself.
Heaven walked silently past her, down the quiet hall, into her room.
She filled the bathtub and sank into the water.
The world went still only the sound of her heartbeat, echoing beneath the surface, and the ache that refused to leave her.
Heaven had just come out from the bathroom, she didn’t know how long she had spent there but to her she felt like she had been in a particular time and nothing seemed to have changed.
The door slammed open, startling her.