Chapter 134
I freeze. Across the table, Tracy’s knuckles whiten around her fork. Great. Another breadcrumb. Could you maybe stop seasoning my life with these meaningless gestures?
I swear, the man’s fishing with live bait, convinced I’ll bite if he sprinkles just enough sweetness. Does he honestly believe “good wife” is a default setting I’ll slide back into if he keeps buttering the pan?
But a real partner earns a “good wife,” the same way a good man earns loyalty.
Most guys just cosplay husband until the credits roll—and Jared’s got an Oscar in that category.
Dinner wrapped up when one of the senior VPs blurted out that she wanted to hit the Stonecrag Church tomorrow.
She swore the place was magic for both love and career, and after her divorce, she still hadn’t found “the one,” so maybe a prayer wouldn’t hurt.
Jared said that tomorrow was a day off, with no work scheduled, so everyone was free to do as they pleased. Tracy then suggested that we all go for a walk at Stonecrag Mount.
Jared’s eyes slid to me. Voice low, he asked, “Wanna come?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
By ten, we’d all drifted back to the hotel. When Jared figured out I’d booked my own room, his face went storm-cloud dark.
I stopped him in the hallway, yawning for show. “Hon, I’m beat. Gonna crash early—big climb tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He pivoted into his own room without another word.
Inside my suite, the dumb thought hit: if Tracy finds out I’m not bunking with him, will she tiptoe down the hall and slide into his bed?
By nine-thirty, the idea died. I’d just stepped out of the shower, blow-drying the ends of my hair, when the door opened. Jared—fresh from his own shower—walked in, hair damp, eyes locked on me. I looked away.
When the dryer clicked off, he broke the silence. “My mom told me she gave you some pills. You taking them?”
I froze. She’d even looped him in? “Not really. They never work, and I’m worried about my liver.”
He held out his palm. “Let me see them.”
I dug the black foil packet from my bag and set it in his hand. “You’re actually going to swallow this?”
“My mom insists.” His voice stayed flat.
I tried a joke. “What if it’s poison?”
His gaze heated. “Only one way to find out.”
My pulse stuttered. If he took it, he’d expect me to— “Don’t. It’s useless.” I reached out to snatch the packet back.
He caught my wrist. “Relax. I’ll take it. You enjoy the ride.”
Before I could protest, he emptied the powder into a glass of water, knocked it back, and swallowed.
“Stay right there,” I warned, half laughing, half freaked. Lately, Jared had been wild in ways I didn’t recognize.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and within minutes, a flush climbed his neck. Fingers working the top button of his pajama shirt, he muttered, “Victoria, I’m burning up.”
“I’ll call a doctor—classic poisoning symptoms,” I chirped, already inching toward the door.
He saw the escape attempt. In one smooth move, he grabbed my arm, spun me, and pinned me to the mattress. “Running already?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped the mood killer. “How much are you paying me this time?”
Every ounce of heat drained from his face. “You’re really doing this now?”
“Price first. If we renegotiate after-” His mouth crashed over mine, angry, cutting me off.
Whatever was in that packet, it worked overtime. Jared was stronger, rougher, and more relentless. Each time I tried to wriggle free, he yanked me back, teeth grazing my neck, hands branding my hips.
Between breaths, he growled against my skin, “Tell me again. You’re really letting the dice roll? You don’t care anymore?”
My brain short-circuited; my body wouldn’t lie. “Yes,” I hissed, clinging to the last shred of logic. The word flipped a switch—he drove harder, deeper, until time blurred.
When it finally ended, he stayed locked around me, arms iron-tight. Two fresh bruises throbbed on my throat.
Curled against his chest, I whispered the same stupid question. “So… how much?”