Delilah POV The car door opened, and I stepped out. Before I could even blink, camera flashes exploded like fireworks, the night buzzing with energy and whispers.I took a breath. I can do this. “She’s beautiful,” I heard someone gasp.“Who is she?”“Is that Thorne’s wife?”Thorne exited the car, dressed in sharp black—charcoal silk shirt open slightly at the collar, custom blazer hugging his frame like it was made of shadows. His presence soaked into the air instantly, commanding attention like a quiet storm. A lot of ladies were already swooning.And then his hand slid into mine, warm and possessive. He just leaned in slightly and murmured, “Smile, little fox. You’re fire tonight.”I swallowed, but my lips curved like I’d been doing this for years. I've always smiled for the camera and acted like I've belonged when I was with Caleb. So I can do this. But the thing is… I'm nervous as hell.We walked the carpet like that—hand-in-hand, two perfect masks under expensive lights. The fl
Delilah POV:I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, gripping the porcelain sink helplessly. What was wrong with me and why was my face so annoyingly red. It's not even from the wine but… blushing.Why was I blushing? After everything—the kiss, the choking, the damn horror movie-style break-in—why did my face look like I’d just been kissed behind the bleachers in high school?There is something really wrong with me. Yes I've had dirty fantasies of making out with Thorne – not that I'd ever admit– but I didn't expect it to dominate my entire being. Thorne words always had an impact on me.Ugh.I splashed water on my cheeks. “Get a grip, Delilah.”Then my phone buzzed. The new one. I wiped my hands, grabbed it, and saw a text.> THORNE:Check your room. I left something.I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my frontal lobe. I replied:> ME:Lemme guess. A gun? A knife?> THORNE:Tempting. But no. Go look, fox.I hesitated—because I was petty like that—and stared at the mirror a b
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Delilah’s POVI swallowed hard.“No, don’t ‘Thorne’ me.” His jaw clenched as he stepped closer again, forcing me to back into the sink. “You think you can kiss me like that, let me moan into your mouth, then run and pretend it didn’t mean anything? My fucking head is on fire, Delilah!”I looked away, unable to meet the storm in his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go that far. It's because.. I … it's not really a big deal.” I mumbled, flushing.His laugh was humorless. “Not really a big deal?You kissed me like you were starving. You touched me like I was yours.”I swallowed, my throat dry. “You kissed me first, Thorne.”“And you fucking kissed back,” he snapped. “You think I don’t know when a woman wants me? I could feel you, Delilah. Your body—your tits were hard against me, your thighs were trembling. You were soaking wet. I could smell you.”I gasped, heat rushing to my face.“Don’t look at me like that,” he growled. “Don’t pretend you didn’t love every second of it. You want me just a
Delilah's POVI shouldn’t have stayed. I should’ve climbed out the window or called the damn police. But how do you call the cops on your husband?Fuck. It's not going to make any damn sense.”Help my husband is chasing me with a gun, a day after our wedding.”My fingers trembled as I crouched lower behind the shelf in the study. I reached for my phone, only to see it smashed into jagged, useless pieces on the floor.“God,” I whispered. “Please. I’ll never drink wine again. Or binge chips. Just get me through this night without dying.”I wrapped my arms around my legs, curling tighter, feeling that cold hollow in my stomach, the one that only shows up when fear comes in wearing a familiar face. It reminded me of the time, back in college, Thorne chased me to the basement with a damn knife. What if he plays smart?What if he does something funny?What if the gun wasn’t a bluff? But knowing him, it's unlikely. He always carried out his threats back then. My mind went somewhere it shou
Delilah’s POV: I slammed the grocery bags on the counter angrily, once I stepped into my villa. Naomi had something urgent to deal with so she left promising she'll be back. Thank goodness she's gone, I wouldn't want her to see me spiral. I was so pissed. Fucking Caleb. Fucking Cheryse. Fucking Maxwell, with his curly mop of hair and his innocent eyes. The kind of child I'd dream of having. The child I … carried and.. then lost it because of Caleb. I was spiraling, and I knew it, whiich meant one thing. Cook. When I’m pissed, I cook like I’m trying to battle my demons with diced onions and boiling oil. So I rushed to the kitchen and started cooking crazily. Shrimp pasta. Creamy chicken stew. Garlic butter naan from scratch. I roasted asparagus like it killed my dreams. I even baked lemon squares, dusting the tops with powdered sugar like snowfall over grief. By the time I was done, the kitchen looked like a food war zone. And I ate... nothing. I never eat what I stressed- co