Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 81 - Chapitre 90

My fingers dug into the sheets as my body arched in ecstasy. Christian held my hips firmly, his rhythm relentless and unyielding. The room was bathed in shadow, only the city lights slipping through the blinds, casting dancing shapes across our tangled bodies. "Christian..." My moan came out like a plea as he intensified his movements, his eyes never leaving mine. There was urgency in every touch, every kiss, every thrust—as if we were trying to recover something we had lost in the transition between Castoria and Solara. Or maybe we were trying to create something new, something that belonged to this place, this reality. He captured my lips in a deep, possessive kiss, muffling my moans as his fingers found the exact spot where I needed him most. My whole body trembled under his skilled touch, tension growing with every second. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice hoarse with desire. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense and vulnerable gaze. There was something almost desperate

Christian's POV Breakfast at the Kensington estate in Highridge Valley had always been a lonely affair for me. During my childhood and teenage years, it was rare to see my parents at the table. The staff kept a respectful distance, and I got used to eating in silence, mentally reviewing my day's commitments. Except when Joseph was there. "This is not breakfast!" my grandfather exclaimed, glaring at the black coffee and barely touched toast in front of me. "In my day, men ate like men! Eggs, fresh bread, ham..." He gestured toward his own abundant plate. "That's why your generation is always anxious. You don't eat properly!" I smiled despite my exhaustion. I had slept poorly, waking several times during the night, my body instinctively reaching for Zoey beside me. The awkward phone call that morning had only worsened my mood. "I'm fine, Grandpa. Just not very hungry today." Joseph studied me with those sharp eyes that seemed to see through any façade. "It's your wife. You

I woke slowly, my body deliciously sore from the night before. Christian was still asleep beside me, one arm draped possessively around my waist, his face relaxed in a way he rarely allowed when awake. I studied his features for a moment—the long lashes, the strong line of his jaw, the lips that, hours ago, had traced every inch of my body. It was unfair that someone could be this beautiful, even in sleep. As if sensing my gaze, Christian opened his eyes slowly, that intense gray-blue immediately locking onto me. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "Good morning," I replied, inexplicably shy after everything we'd shared the night before. He smiled, pulling me closer. "Sleep well?" "Once you finally let me sleep? Yes." His smile turned smug. "I don't remember hearing any complaints at the time." "You won't either." I laughed, feeling my cheeks heat. Christian leaned in for a soft kiss on my lips, then settled back on his elbow, watching me with

The formal dinner was served in the banquet hall, where the long oak table was set for thirty guests. Those present were a mix of Kensington relatives, key investors, and figures from the local wine industry. I was seated between Christian and a famous oenologist whose name I immediately forgot, while Anthony positioned himself strategically close to Joseph. To my relief, Annabelle sat diagonally across from me, winking over her glass of wine whenever one of the guests made a pretentious remark. The first course was a delicate starter of scallops in lemon butter, served with impeccable presentation. But at the first whiff, my stomach twisted again. The smell of seafood was strangely overpowering and nauseating. "Not hungry?" Christian asked quietly, noticing my hesitation. "Just a little queasy," I murmured, forcing a smile. "Must be nerves." He frowned slightly, concerned. "Do you want to step out for a bit?" "No, I'm fine." I reached for my water glass, avoiding the win

The main hall looked even more crowded by the time Annie and I came down. The string quartet's music had been replaced by a livelier playlist, and several guests were moving across the makeshift dance floor. Joseph was surrounded by a group of older men, gesturing animatedly as he told what must have been a hilarious story, judging by the bursts of laughter around him. The chandeliers glittered off the women's expensive jewelry, scattering tiny constellations of light across the walls as they moved. Several faces turned discreetly in our direction as we descended the stairs—some curious, others evaluative. Being the new Mrs. Kensington meant being constantly under scrutiny, something I still wasn't entirely used to. "There's Marcus," Annabelle said, nodding discreetly toward a corner of the hall where he was talking with two men in suits. "I'll… see if he needs assistance with something." "I'm sure he's desperate for your help," I remarked sarcastically. Annabelle only smiled,