chapter 2

VEDA’S POV

Silas has been doing a very good job of playing the loving husband. In fact, he’s so convincing, I almost believed him.

Almost.

“What a beautiful wife you have there, Sterling,” the thousandth man said, gripping my husband’s hand in a firm handshake while his eyes lingered on me a little too long. At this point, the number of men who seemed to want me was reaching pandemic levels.

“And that’s just one of the many reasons I married her,” Silas replied with a smile, running a finger lightly beneath the irritating emeralds at my throat. I smiled back like the devoted wife I was, silently praying for the night to be over.

The gala dragged on, as galas always did, and I stood beside my dear husband with aching cheeks and throbbing feet. I was certain he was keeping me on my feet this long on purpose as another quiet punishment. The emeralds didn’t help matters. Not when it was a constant reminder of the collar I couldn’t see but always felt. 

The drive back home was silent, as it always was. But then, for the first time in two years, Silas broke it.

“My son is coming back tonight,” he said, the glow of his phone lighting up his sharp features. I looked at him, and for some odd reason, a strange, sinking feeling settled low in my belly. And you’re just telling me now? But I didn’t say that. That would only get me into trouble. 

“Is there anything else I should know, husband?” I asked instead, keeping my voice soft. He didn’t answer. I turned to the window, breathing in and out, trying to calm the storm rising inside me at his rude dismissal. I’d heard about Zane Sterling, the exiled, notorious heir, in passing. But the thing is, his reputation precedes him, and he’s a rude, reckless playboy. Or so they say.

Just great. Now I was stuck with both the cold, controlling father and the arrogant son.

When we got to the estate, the first thing I noticed was a sleek black car I didn’t recognize. Silas ignored it, but I didn’t miss the shift in his posture. Silas moved quickly to his office, a rare urgency in his steps, leaving me standing there, unsettled. Even the staff seemed off, tense and avoidant. 

So, he was already here.

Just then, a wave of dizziness hit me, and it felt like the ground seemed to tilt from under my feet. I grabbed a nearby lamp for support, willing the spinning to stop and my stomach not to spill its contents on the ground. After a moment, I steadied myself and took a deep breath. This dizziness and exhaustion I couldn’t sleep off, no matter how long I stayed in bed, had been happening more often lately, and it was getting worse.

I made a mental note to keep it to myself and went inside.

I headed to my room, removed the offensive jewellery first and left it out for Rosa. Then I scrubbed my face and swallowed my vitamins with water. 

I should’ve gone straight to bed. I was exhausted, and it was well past midnight, and there was absolutely no reason to wander the east corridor. I wandered the east corridor anyway. In my defense, I was thirsty and needed more water.  

Now, I need you to understand what I looked like, because it matters for what happened next.

My hair was currently up in a terrible bun, some dark strands falling into my eyes, mismatched socks covered my feet, and I was wearing an oversized t-shirt stolen from Silas’s closet in my first month here because I knew it’d bother him if he ever noticed it was missing. Basically, I looked like someone who lived under a bridge.

When I turned the corner toward the kitchen, I walked directly into a wall. Except walls in my experience don’t grab you by the shoulders. And they definitely don’t breathe or smell like cedar and something dark and warm that tingles your senses. 

I stumbled back and looked up.

And up.

And up.

The wall was tall, conveniently shirtless (No, I didn’t notice his defined chest), with dirty blonde curls that looked like he had been running his hands through them for hours, and a very sharp jaw.

A throat cleared, and I snapped back.

“You can’t be back here,” I said, sliding into my lady-of-the-house voice. “This place is off limits to security after ten. If you need to run a check, you go through Rosa. Who assigned you to this wing anyway?”

SIlence. The man didn’t say anything and just looked at me, starting from the top of my terrible bun, to the stolen shirt, all the way to the mismatched socks. He was definitely not impressed. Which, for the record, pissed me off. 

“I don’t know who you think—”

“Who assigned me?” Did he just cut me off?! Oh no, he didn’t. 

“Yes, mister…” I trailed, waiting for him to give a name.

“Zane,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Zane. It really isn’t a difficult ques—”

I stopped talking, and for the second time in my life, I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. Shit. It seemed he clocked the realization on my face because a slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face. I quickly covered up the obvious horror I was sure reflected in my grey eyes.

“You’re the son.” I simply said, acting completely unbothered when I was anything but. 

“And you,” he said, his gaze dropping briefly and deliberately to the pearl earrings I’d forgotten to remove, then back up to my face, “are wearing my mother’s jewellery.”

I felt the shift in the room and saw the barely noticeable tic in his jaw. He was pissed at my presence all right, and I was going to give him something to be truly pissed about. Besides, I didn’t know they belonged to anyone. Silas had placed the pearls on my vanity one morning without explanation. He dropped things, and you wore them. That was the way of this house.

But I lifted my chin anyway. 

“I’m also your father’s wife,” I said. “So you might want to remember where you are.”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, but I held my ground because I hadn’t spent two years with Silas to be moved by his son.

“Trust me,” he said quietly, his scent briefly confusing me before I shook it off. “I know exactly where I am.”

He held my gaze for another moment, long enough to make me feel uncomfortable, but I refused to break his gaze. I wouldn’t back down.

An annoyed smirk spread across his face, and he stepped back, regarding me once more before speaking. “Do take those off, sweet Veda,” he said in a slow and unhurried voice, nodding at the pearls. “They look horrible against your skin.”

He walked away before I could answer. I stood in the corridor and listened to his footsteps disappear. Then I let out a slow breath I didn’t know I was holding and pressed a hand on my chest in a pathetic attempt to calm my erratic heart. 

That was an unexpected encounter. And I really hate those.

I went to the kitchen, drank my water, went to bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. My fingers found the pearls still on my ears, and before I could stop myself, I whispered into the dark:

“Horrible against my skin?” I turned to my side. “Has he seen himself?”

I wasn’t oblivious to his face, or his jaw, or the rest of it. But I wasn’t oblivious to his stinking behaviour either. And that he was my husband’s son.

I closed my eyes.

Silas wanted me afraid of his son’s return, and I thought I could handle it.

I couldn’t.

But I would. I’d handled the father for two years, and the son would be no exception. 

Zane Sterling was home, and I’d just called him security. 

Well, he’d better not cross me again. Or I would make that tag a reality. I am, after all, Silas’s wife, and a queen has more leverage than a prince, even in his own home.