107. HAPPY WIFE, HAPPY LIFE

107. HAPPY WIFE, HAPPY LIFE
Arianna

Vincent’s gaze flickered towards Nicole’s building before returning to my face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Worried about appearances, darling? After last night, I hardly think anyone would believe you’re a blushing innocent.” He took a step back, finally releasing my jaw, though the heat of his touch lingered. “Duty calls, unfortunately. A devil has responsibilities, you know.” He straightened his uniform, the crisp fabric rustling in the morning air.

“So you will drop me home and just leave?” The question hung in the air, laced with a childish petulance I hadn’t intended, but couldn’t quite retract. For a fleeting moment, suspicion pricked at me.

He’d been so insistent on picking me up, so possessive last night, that the idea of him simply depositing me at our doorstep and then vanishing felt… abrupt. Cold, even.

Vincent tilted his head, a dark curl falling across his forehead.

The amusement in his eyes shifted, deepening into something shadowed, something that made my pulse stutter. “Leave you?” he echoed, the words a low rumble in his chest.

“Darling, do you truly believe I’d leave you like this?” His gaze raked over me, not with lust, but with something far more possessive, a claim etched in the way his eyes lingered on the faint flush still dusting my skin, the slight tremble in my hands.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner wrist, where the pulse throbbed a frantic rhythm.

His thumb traced the delicate blue veins beneath my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with raw, primal awareness.

“Feel that?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “That’s me. Under your skin, in your blood. You can run, you can hide, you can pretend that you don't like me controlling you...But you will still feel me there. Always.”

My breath caught in my throat, a silent admission that he was right. He had burrowed his way into me, leaving an indelible mark.

A slow, predatory smile curled the corner of his lips, a promise and a threat coiled into one. “And…,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, a husky whisper that vibrated with dark intent, “I never leave my wife unsatisfied.” The word hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning, a chilling and intoxicating promise.

A promise which called me in the morning like… a siren’s song, alluring and dangerous.