Chapter 8

Rowan’s POV

The early flight was the only choice. If I had stayed in that city, if I had stayed anywhere near River, I would have lost myself. I told myself distance would calm me, but even as the plane touched down, the storm inside me refused to die.

By the time I walked into the house, the silence inside felt heavy. I didn’t care. I wanted nothing more than to lock myself away. My body ached from the weight of the day before, and the sharp throb behind my eyes refused to die down. 

I dragged myself to my room, didn’t even bother taking off my clothes, and collapsed on the bed like a boy who had been whipped by life itself. Nova wasn’t anywhere in sight. Of course, she wasn’t. 

My phone had been buzzing nonstop with her calls, but she wasn’t here right now to tell me what exactly she wanted. She had become a thorn I couldn’t pull out, always pressing, always clinging. 

There were times I asked myself if marrying her had been the biggest mistake of my life. I let my eyes fall shut, but then the sound of running water drifted from the bathroom. The shower. So she was here after all. I didn’t move. 

I let my body sink deeper into the mattress, trying to pretend I was alone. Then I felt it. A hand sliding across my chest, light and familiar. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was.

“Hey, baby,” Nova’s voice whispered into the quiet, her breath brushing my ear. “You’re back. I’ve missed you so much.” My jaw clenched. I didn’t want her voice. I didn’t want her touch. Not now. 

“Just leave me alone, Nova.”

But Nova never listened. She never knew when to stop. Her hand traced the lines of my shirt like she could soften me with her touch. “Don’t push me away, Rowan,” she murmured. “You should be happy to come home to your wife.”

The word wife cut sharper than it should. A wife was supposed to bring peace, but all I felt with her was pressure. I almost laughed. I didn’t want to stay in New York, but I didn’t want to come home to her either. 

She leaned down, pressing her lips against mine, her fingers sliding lower to my manhood. I let her for half a second before pulling away. “I said no,” I snapped, my voice cold, final.

“You heard me, Nova. I’m not in the mood.”

I thought she would step back after the way I snapped at her. I thought maybe, just maybe, she would finally hear me. But when I stood up, expecting her to move aside, she didn’t. 

Instead, she walked toward me with slow steps, her body bare, her eyes burning with that same hunger that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with control. “I want you to fuck me right now,” she whispered, her voice low like a command.

But nothing about her moved me. Not her body, not her words, not the way she tried to stand there like she owned me. All I felt was disgust crawling through my veins right now.

“You’re so selfish, Nova,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “Did you even ask me how the pitch went? Or how was my trip? No. The only thing you know how to do is seduce me and jump straight to sex.”

Her eyes flickered, but she didn’t back down.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I roared, my anger breaking through. She didn’t even flinch. She stood right in front of me, so close I could feel her breath on my face. Then she smiled. 

A smile that didn’t belong to a wife, but to someone who enjoyed twisting the knife deeper. “Don’t you like what you see, Rowan?” she asked softly, almost sweetly.

My fists clenched as heat boiled inside me, my anger spilling over. Did this woman really not hear a single thing I said? She didn’t really care about the pitch or to know if I got it or not.

I tried to step back, to pull away, but she reached for me again. Her arms opened, her body pressing forward, desperate to trap me in her touch.

And that was it.

I shoved her. Harder than I meant to, but I didn’t care. She stumbled back and hit the floor with a heavy thud, her breath catching as she landed.

For a moment, the room went dead silent. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my hands shaking with fury, and stormed out. If I couldn’t have peace in my own home, then I’d bury myself in work. 

At least the office couldn’t suffocate me like this. I slammed the door behind me, slid into my car, and pressed down on the gas until the house was nothing but a shadow in the mirror.

The moment I stepped into the company, greetings came at me from every corner. “Good morning, sir.” “Welcome back, sir.” Their voices chased me left and right, but I didn’t spare them a glance. They had probably all seen the news. 

They had seen how I failed to land the contract for the Chitox company, how the deal slipped through my fingers. Let them talk. I wasn’t here to beg for their respect. I paid them, which meant I decided if their greetings mattered or not.

I pushed into my office, slammed the door shut, and grabbed the phone. “Get in my office now,” I barked, my voice sharp enough to cut glass. It didn’t take long before Gabriella walked in. 

She stood frozen by the door, her face blank, her posture stiff like a statue. Everyone knew what it meant when I was in this mood. Everyone knew it was dangerous. “Stop standing there like a pillar of salt and get to work,” I snapped.

That was all it took. She moved quickly, her heels clicking against the floor as she came closer. Then she sank down before me, her movements careful, her head lowered in silent submission. She knew exactly how to calm my storm, exactly how to make me forget the fire burning in my chest.

She unzipped my trouser, before taking my dick gently into her mouth. I let out a soft groan as she moved her tongue around the tip of my dick. After that she took all of me in her mouth as the sound of my groans increased. 

“Urgghh, fuck,” I groaned. I was enjoying every bit of it. She took my hard steel rod in her hands, caressing it gently and erotically, then she moved it again in her mouth, slowly soaking it up with her saliva. 

I was really enjoying this. “Hmmm... fuck,” I moaned loudly this time, letting the pleasure get into my head. “Just keep going... Don’t stop, Gabriella,” I blurted out again as the tension in my body eased. 

My hand rested on her head for a moment, then I pulled back and picked up my phone, not even sparing her a glance. I didn’t need to. Her presence was just enough to steady me, to remind me of the power I had. 

My eyes stayed on the screen as my thumb kept scrolling, sliding through old files, old chats, old memories I had no reason to keep. I grunted once, leaning back into the chair as she moved, but my focus stayed fixed on the glow of the screen.

Then my hand froze. My breath caught for half a second as my eyes locked on a picture buried deep in my saved items.

River.

It wasn’t just any picture. It was her in a moment that should have belonged only to me, a picture I had kept hidden away for years, buried so deep I had forgotten it was even there. Yet seeing it now felt like fate had dropped it into my lap, mocking me, daring me.

Anger and desire twisted so tight I couldn’t tell them apart. She thought she was free, thought she could humiliate me, walk away and build a new life, take what was mine. But this picture reminded me of one truth she could never erase. 

She belonged to me.

A slow grin spread across my face, sharp and merciless. If she wanted war, I’d give her one. Not just to win—but to remind her of who held the power all along.