Page 45 of Velvet Chains
My father presenting my mother with some ridiculously expensive jewelry. The way she’d smiled, kissed him. The way he’d looked at her like she was his whole fucking world.
Is that what this is? Am I turning into my old man, so pussy-whipped that I’m breaking my back to please a woman?
No. No fucking way. This is different. It has to be.
Love.
The word flashes through my mind before I can stop it. I almost flinch.
Love is a weakness. A liability. And whatever this thing is with Laura, it sure as hell isn’t that.
…Right?
I’m saved from my spiraling thoughts by a loud, unmistakable gurgle. Laura’s eyes widen, and a blush stains her cheeks.
I blink at her. “Was that your stomach?”
“No!” she says quickly. Another traitorous rumble contradicts her.
I can’t help it. I laugh—a real, genuine laugh. “Hungry, wife? Forgot to eat while you were busy crying over shelves?”
She glares at me, but it’s halfhearted at best. “Shut up. I was overwhelmed, okay?”
“Mmhmm. Come on, then.” I take her hand, tugging her toward the door. “Let’s go feed you before you pass out. Can’t have you fainting all over your fancy new store.”
“So generous,” she deadpans, but she lets me lead her out.
I lock the bookshop door and in the window’s reflection, I see my wife hopping into the car, looking like the happiest person alive.
I tell myself it’s just smugness. Satisfaction at a job well done.
It’s sure as hell not anything more than that.
…Fuck.
As I slide into the backseat beside Laura, Misha meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Where to, boss?”
“The Regal Roost,” I reply, my gaze flicking to Laura. Her cheeks are flushed, her green eyes sparkling with a liveliness I haven’t seen before.
It makes me… happy?
Happy? Why the fuck would seeing her like this make me happy?
Fuck. All of this is confusing.
“Okay, boss.” Misha’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, his expression annoyingly smug. He’s had that cheeky bastard look since we were kids—always knowing more than he let on.
I shoot him a glare, but he just smirks and pulls out into traffic. Laura seems oblivious to our silent exchange, too busy admiring her new store as it disappears from view.
As we drive, I find myself watching her out of the corner of my eye. The way the sunlight catches her hair, the soft curve of her smile. It stirs something in me, something I don’t want to name.
I tear my gaze away, focusing instead on the reason behind all of this.
The real reason I’m doing this isn’t just to make her feel better. No, I need her in a good mood, so she’ll talk. I need to know what the fuck Dave wanted.
That fucker showing up at the wedding, knowing full well he’d be a dead man if I caught him… It didn’t add up.
So why risk it? What secret is he hiding?
