Kazia
His laughter fills the room, and I can't help but admire the sound of it. It's the first time I've ever heard him laugh like this.
He looks so carefree, his usual guarded expression nowhere to be found. I'm curious to know what they're talking about, but I don't interrupt. Watching him and Mama Melinda interact, anyone would think they were related.
Mama Melinda insists on packing us some food for the journey and personally driving us back to the city. It's a five-hour drive, and despite my protests that it isn't necessary, she won't take no for an answer.
Aidan thinks it's safer this way. He doesn't trust anyone back home enough to call for help. Besides, we're disguising ourselves as farmers, making our departure less conspicuous.
The journey from Belemount Village takes nearly five hours, and by the time we arrive in the city, night has fallen. Instead of going straight home, we stop at a hotel.
Mama Melinda refuses to stay overnight, insisting she's fine driving back on her own. Aidan suggests hiring security to escort her, but she waves off the idea, reminding us she's used to night driving. Apparently, she used to be a truck driver—a tidbit she shared during one of our dinners, so we let her go.
Aidan leads me through a discreet path to the back of the hotel, where an elevator waits. He presses his finger against a scanner on the door, and it opens after confirming his fingerprint. I blink in surprise. How does he have access to this place?
"Are you related to the owner of this hotel?" I ask, curiously.
"Not really. I only bought this side of the hotel. Do you know the owner?" He glances at me with a questioning gaze.
"Who doesn't know him? He's a heartless bastard," I say. Stories of the old man's illegal dealings have made the rounds in the city, and I silently pray my husband isn't involved with him.
"Don't worry. I'm not associated with him in any way. I just liked this part of the hotel, so I bought it," he says with a chuckle.
"Okay…" I trail off, not really believing him. It suddenly hits me—I don't even know what my husband does for a living. I'd always assumed he lived off an allowance from his father since he's not allowed to work at the family company due to his impairments.
"What do you do for a living?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"What do you think? Daddy's boy. I get paid to do nothing," he says casually.
"Are you really okay with that? What will happen when your father passes away?" I press. I know Aidan's stepmother wouldn't be kind enough to continue paying him after his father's death. She's already made her distaste for him crystal clear.
"You want him dead?" He raises an eyebrow, his tone light but teasing.
"No, not like that. But let's be realistic—he's old. It's bound to happen eventually."
"Maybe you can take on the role of the provider when we run out of money. What do you think?" He smirks, clearly not taking me seriously.
"No!" I snap, frustrated. Thankfully, the elevator dings and the door opens. We step out into a private apartment, where Aidan once again uses his fingerprint to unlock the door.
"Don't worry, baby. I've got us covered. Everything will be fine," he reassures me as we step inside, his tone softer now.
Fine. Whatever.
I find the bathroom and take a quick shower, which is just what I need after the long journey. When I step out, Aidan is speaking on the phone with someone. Who else knows he can hear and talk apart from me?
"Who's that?" I ask, interrupting.
"Leo," he replies.
"She found out?" I hear Leo's alarmed voice through the speaker.
"An accident," Aidan says. Of course, it was an accident. I wasn't supposed to know he could talk or hear.
"Let me guess—Jules knows too?" I ask.
"Jules doesn't know. Please don't tell her—not yet," Aidan replies. Relief washes over me. If Jules knew my husband could talk before I did, it would have felt like the ultimate betrayal.
Leo says something I can't make out before the call ends.
"Lucky you," I say, crossing my arms. "When did you get a phone?"
We left our phones behind during the accident, and I haven't seen him receive anything since we arrived.
"This is my home. I have devices in all my houses in case of emergencies," he states matter-of-factly.
Houses? Plural? There's still so much I don't know about this man I call my husband.
"Will you be okay staying here alone? I need to be somewhere," he says as he starts undressing.
I look away, my cheeks heating as memories of his body pressed against mine during the accident flood back.
"Isn't it too late to go out? It's almost eleven," I argue, glancing at the clock.
"It's important. I don't have a choice," he says, disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of rushing water fills the room.
I search the drawer by the dressing mirror for a hair dryer but come up empty. Resigned, I grab a small towel to dry my hair manually.
The water stops, and moments later, Aidan steps out, shirtless. He heads to the same drawer I'd checked earlier and pulls out a dryer.
"How did I miss that?" I mutter under my breath.
"You don't want to dry your hair?" he asks, plugging in the dryer.
"I didn't see it," I admit sheepishly.
He steps behind me and starts drying my hair himself, his movements careful and deliberate. Through the mirror, I can't help but steal glances at his toned chest and strong arms.
His gentle touch and the warmth of the dryer lull me into a haze. I don't even realize when he finishes and places the dryer on the table.
"Thank you," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
Without a word, he walks to his wardrobe. As he searches for something, I make a bold decision, something I'd never think I'll have the courage to do.
Dropping my robe to the floor, I approach him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my bare chest against his back.
He tenses at first, then relaxes under my touch.
"Kazia, do you know what you're doing to me?" he asks, his voice low as he turns to face me. His eyes roam over my body, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
"Don't start what you can't finish," he warns, his hand cupping one of my breasts. I gasp, a moan slipping from my lips.
"I want this," I whisper.
Before I can say another word, he lifts me effortlessly, his lips crashing into mine as he carries me to the bed.
Gently, he lays me down and unties the towel around his waist, his eyes burning with desire.
…