Page 25 of Yours Suddenly

I feel his rough finger lightly touch the bruise on the back of my neck before he walks out of the bathroom.

Chapter 13

Roman

I don’t blame Alexandra for avoiding me.

I've changed. I'm no longer spending so much time away from home.

I don't get up and leave in the morning before she wakes up, I make sure to stay and say good morning to her.

The first morning I do this, she mumbles a greeting back and gets up to go use the bathroom. She takes a quick shower and then immediately leaves our bedroom to go down for breakfast. I take a shower too and head downstairs, intending to join her at the table but she isn’t there. She’s already with Mama and Adrianne in the endless decorating of my hotels scattered across the city, Freddy, Blake and Matthew watching over them.

It goes on like that for a week. The only time we have an extended conversation is when I ask about the bruise, which she tells me is getting better thanks to a pair of my cousins who are the family doctors. Sometimes she, Adrianne and Mama plan family trips with the cousins and the kids and Tristan and I are excluded because we have to… work.

We could simply abandon our…escapades, and the deals we're trying to make with our various partners, seasonedbusinessmen who would love nothing but to take my wealth for themselves.

Fucking pieces of shit.

All they do is fuck and spend money and kill, no family values, no morals, nothing. The amount of people they screw over to get what they want? Diabolical. These are the bastards I had to kill or make missing so I could get to where I am. They wouldn't have allowed any other competition in unless you were willing to get your hands dirty.

Wayne Johnson, the millionaire owner of a tech company, shakes my hand in the conference room of one of my hotels. I know he's watching every single move I make. The deal that'll give me half a billion dollars is the one he wanted, and I know he'll try to do anything to take it for himself.

There have been numerous intimidation tactics over the years from various competitors. Three years ago, one of my cousin's kids, Sammi, almost got kidnapped because I acquired a piece of land in the north of New York. That's when we decided to beef up security: every single family member had to have a bodyguard with them at all times.

Since she used to spend nearly all her time with me, I was my wife’s bodyguard, but I had to assign Blake after I began to work too much. Blake updates me on how she’s doing three times a day.

She's happy, boss,he texts.

She’s having cinnamon rolls from that real expensive place you like.

Orshe looks tired, I’ll suggest taking her home

Goodis all I always text back.

Whenever I get home, which is much earlier these days, I try to take her out or have a solo date on the rooftop terrace of the mansion, telling the kids they can camp in the spa room or aquarium chamber instead. But she always turns me down and, shit, it gets to mebad.

She's too tired. Or she has to do some research on the curtains she wants to put up in some obscure suite.

“Let Adrianne do it,” I say. My hand wraps around her waist, and I pull her to me as we stand outside our bedroom door early in the evening. As always, she smells so fucking good, looks so fucking good with red lipstick and her hair all wavey. It's like she's putting in so much effort to look good but keeping herself away from me. I feel my cock harden in my pants when she looks up at me with those big doe eyes, deliberately trying to look as seductive as possible. I miss tasting her pussy, her tits, her mouth.

“Adrianne has too much work on her hands already,” she says. “She did the linen and the mirrors and the carpets. I'm supposed to do the curtains.” She sounds annoyed and steps back from me. “Now, if you don't mind, I have to go and discuss with Mama about our schedule this week. It's looking reallybusyfor us.”

Her emphasis on the word “busy” tells me she's definitely getting back at me. Not just for the other woman drama, but for abandoning her. A look of mild smugness comes on her face when she notices the expression I’m wearing. I don't show much, but I know she can tell every little emotion that passes over my stoic features.

“If you'll excuse me, Roman.”

I’ll be honest, I feel super jealous of my mother and Adrianne right now, who both are avoiding me and giving me the partial silent treatment in solidarity with my wife.

“No men allowed!” Adrianne says when I enter the casual family room.

I raise my eyebrows, pointing at my med-student cousins Ryan and Logan lounging on a sofa as they watch a documentary on TV.

“Oh, my mistake,” Adrianne says. “No men named Roman Trent allowed.”

I smile, my gaze moving to my wife. She’s watching me and when our eyes lock she looks away, turning red.

“Don't you have a huge business deal to get to?” Mama says to me sardonically, not unlike when she used to ask me if I didn’t have homework to do as a kid.

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