chapter 4

VEDA’S POV

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How dare he throw my book in the pool? That was my best erotica, and I was at the best part.

Okay, who was I kidding? I wasn’t even reading. But still, how dare he touch me and demand things from me as if he owned me? Only one Sterling man owned me, and I was so close to being free from him. I was not about to let another one ruin my life.

Double shit.

“Do you need help with the towel, ma’am?”

I ignored the maid and kept walking. That was what Zane Sterling was doing, making me rude to the people who had done nothing wrong.

I shut my room door, took off the pearl earrings, peeled off my swimsuit, walked into the shower, and screamed until my throat hurt. Unfortunately, that didn’t help.

“Pull yourself together,” I muttered, pressing my palms against the shower wall. “He touched you. That’s it.”

His breath on your mouth. His hands on your wrist. The gold flecks in his eyes when he was close enough that you could count them— 

“Stop it, Veda.”

I turned the water colder and stayed under it until I was shivering. Then I got out, took my time getting dressed, and fixed my face in the mirror. 

“You’re fine,” I told myself. But my reflection didn’t look fine.

“Tonight,” I said firmly, “you’re fine.”

As I descended the stairs, soft laughter floated up from the entrance hall. That was strange. I’d noted down nearly every voice in this house, and this wasn’t one of them. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I finally found the face. 

A halo of copper curls framed a soft, heart-shaped face. She had a hand wrapped around Zane’s arm, head thrown back in laughter, and I caught, just barely, the small, almost -human smile on his face before it disappeared.

Something sharp and entirely unwelcome pricked at my chest. I pressed a hand against it absently, which was embarrassing, so I stopped. The woman noticed me first. Vibrant green eyes found mine across the hall, and I caught, just for a fraction of a second, the flicker of something cold before a wide, warm smile took over her face entirely. 

Maybe I was imagining things.

I was probably imagining things.

“Oh, darling,” she exclaimed, running toward me like we were long-lost friends reuniting after years apart. “You must be the wife. I’m Luna, Zane’s fiancée.”

I ignored the fiancée part, focusing on the way she said the word wife as if it were a stain on her tongue. 

Interesting. Two could play this game.

“Of course,” I said warmly, air-kissing both her cheeks like we were old friends. “Zane has told me so much about you.” He hadn’t. But the small pause she took before answering told me she wasn’t sure whether to believe me or not, which was exactly the point.

“All good things, I hope,” she said, her smile back in place.

“It’s always good things when it comes to my step-son,” I replied with a soft laugh, and looked past her to find Zane’s eyes already on me. 

The look on his face was unreadable. I held it anyway, chin up, and daring him to do something stupid. His only response was a small smile that only infuriated me the more.

Luna laughed nervously. “Come on, Zane. Let’s go sit down.” He let her lead him away. But his eyes stayed on me a while longer than they needed to. I turned toward the dining room and told myself the sharp thing in my chest was irritation.

When I got there, everyone was already seated, and the only free space was between my husband and his son.

Just great. I knew Silas did this on purpose. I just wasn’t sure who he was trying to put on edge: Me or his son?

I straightened and picked up my wine.

“Veda, your dress is gorgeous,” Luna said, four minutes into the first meal. Her voice was warm, but her eyes told a different story. “Is that new?”

“It is,” I said.

“So fun,” she said with a wondering little smile. “There’s something so freeing about not having a signature look yet. You can just wear anything.”

I cut a piece of meat, looked at her directly, and chewed slowly before I spoke.

“I think you’d know all about trying things on, sweetheart,” I said, and turned to Silas. “This is wonderful, darling. Tell me you’re using the new chef.”

I noticed the slight clench in her jaw and sent her an innocent smile. 

Dinner dragged on, and Luna charmed the table. She was currently on her second tale about some zebra or horse she saw in Africa when I felt a warm finger tracing my bare leg before settling there.

I went completely still. The hand didn’t move. It just rested there, like it had every right to be there. I looked sideways without turning my head. Zane remained unbothered, looking like the typical devoted fiancée as he paid rapt attention to Luna’s silly stories.

I moved my knee away. But the hand followed. My grip tightened on the wine glass, and I could feel my pulse in my ears. Across the table, Silas said something, making Luna laugh. Dinner continued in its perfectly normal way while Zane’s hand moved slowly up my thigh. 

What the hell was he doing?

I couldn’t breathe properly. I was sitting at my husband’s dinner table, his son’s hand was on my thigh, and I was furious— I was furious that he was doing this. I definitely wasn’t feeling anything else but anger. 

That’s the lie I told myself.

Reaching under the table, I firmly removed his hand. Seconds later, it was back and higher this time.

“Excuse me,” I said to the table, placing my napkin down calmly like I wasn’t so close to losing my cool. “Just one moment.”

I felt eyes follow me, but I ignored them and walked all the way to the library.

The library is my only safe place in this house. I stayed there in the dark, allowing myself exactly thirty seconds to freak out. I was nearly done freaking out when the door opened. I smelled him before I saw him. 

“Get out,” I said, before he fully entered the room.

“Veda—”

“Get. Out.” Every word was spoken with as much hate and anger as I could muster. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to get that.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy the feel of my hand on—”

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed across the room. 

Zane lifted a palm to his cheek, working his jaw like the slap had dislodged it. 

I hope it did.

“You had no right,” I seethed. “Absolutely none, touching me like that. Much less in front of your father.”

He wiped his mouth with the black of his sleeves, his dark eyes following me. Zane took a step closer. I took one back.

“You hit me, Veda,” he whispered darkly.

“And I’ll do it again,” I said, lifting my chin. I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.

His hand moved toward me, but before I could hit him again, he grabbed my hand and pulled my body into his. His heat bled into mine, and for the second time today, I forgot where I was. I forgot who I was. And I forgot why we shouldn’t be this close.

“Sweet, sweet, Veda.” His lips trailed a hot path down the column of my throat, and I barely held myself back from letting out a sound I was sure would be the end of me.

“Zane. Don’t.” I whispered. But I didn’t sound convinced. 

“Tell me to stop, Veda. Say the word, and I’ll walk away,” he growls, lips grazing the sensitive spot behind my ears as he trails his hand, slowly, up my thigh. “But we both know you’re dying to see how much of a sinner you can be.”

I should scream, run, anything but stay still. But while my mind screamed shame, my body wanted him to ruin me.

"Tell me to leave," he said again. Rougher this time, like his patience was running thin.

My hands found his shirt. I don't know when that happened, but the fabric was warm, and he was so close, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. And I forgot, briefly and completely, every single reason this was a bad—

"There you both are."

Luna’s voice hit the room like a bucket of cold water on our heads, and we instantly moved away from each other.

She stood in the doorway bright and smiling, her hard gaze looking between us before it went warm again.

“Silas is asking for you,” she said, looking at Zane. “Dessert’s on the terrace.”

Zane took a step further away from me. “Of course,” he said, taking Luna’s outstretched hand. The smile on her face widened, and they both left. But not before I caught Zane’s lingering look.

I waited until their footsteps were gone. Then I walked to the bookshelf, gripped its edge, and stood there until my hands stopped trembling.

Two years. Two years in this house and nothing had shaken me like this. Not Silas. Not the emeralds. Nothing. And now his son had managed, thrice, to significantly ruin my composure.

I pushed off the shelf, fixed my face and walked back to the terrace.

Zane was beside Luna, laughing at something, and he looked perfectly fine. Like nothing happened between us. Like he wasn’t mere seconds from feeling how wet I was.

I squeezed my eyes at the memory.

“Are you fine, Veda?” It was Silas’s voice. I opened my eyes, picked up my dessert fork and smiled. 

“Yes, dear. Why won’t I be?”

He looked at me strangely before pulling his gaze. I took in a deep breath, willing my body to stop trembling.

Under the table, I couldn’t help but grip the same place his hand had lingered. And just when I caught myself and pulled it away, I looked up.

Zane’s dark gaze was locked on mine. He knew exactly what I was doing. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I did. 

I grabbed my champagne glass and took a large gulp, desperate for the alcohol to burn away the memory. Desperate to forget him. I had to forget the man who was so dangerously close to making me abandon my entire plan. 

Because wanting Zane was as good as kissing my plan to leave this house goodbye. And I was never letting that happen