Page 77 of Wicked King

But a part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Now that I’m nearly healed, will Marco stick to our open marriage agreement?

God, why did I ever say I wanted that? After the other morning, the idea of that wicked tongue on anyone else—I squeeze my eyes shut, nausea churning in my gut. I never expected these feelings… the jealousy, the possessiveness, over my husband.

I just need to talk to him. I need to put on my big girl panties and tell him I made a mistake. I don’t want an open marriage. I want to give this a shot, if he is still willing. The confession, even if only to myself, is startling. My heart flutters, and an immense weight lifts from my shoulders at the realization. I want my husband.

Before my cowardice gets the best of me, I reach for my phone and type out a quick message.

Me: We need to talk when you get home.

Marco: … That sounds ominous.

Me: You better hurry back to find out.

Marco: I’ll try my best.

There. Blowing out a breath, I drop my phone on Marco’s desk, the one I’d commandeered for the video conference. Yéye watches me from across the slab of dark wood, the hint of a smile still lingering.

“I think the time has come for me to go.”

“No, Yéye, please not yet.” I slide to the edge of the massive chair and reach for my grandfather’s hands.

“You do not need me here any longer, baobèi. You have your husband now. And if you truly wish for your men to respect you, you must take the reins yourself and prove to them what sort of leader you will be.”

I nod slowly, my chest constricting at the idea of ruling those bloodthirsty killers. Even with my grandfather here, the Four Seas have been out of control. I cannot imagine what will happen upon his departure. “You’re right,” I finally mutter. “But that doesn’t mean I’m pleased you’re leaving.”

He squeezes my hands. “I will still come to visit as always.” Then his eyes drift down to my belly, hidden beneath the desk. “Besides, I hope to have a new grandchild to visit soon.”

Heat floods my cheeks, and an embarrassing sound escapes my clenched lips. Once I’ve regained my composure, I manage to put together a sentence. “Not anytime soon. We only just got married.”

“But you have consummated the marriage?”

Oh, God, please strike me down. I cannot be having the sex talk with my grandfather. Chomping down on my bottom lip, I shake my head.

“Jia, you must. Nothing will unite the Four Seas like a male heir. It’s unfair, and I’m completely aware it’s against all feminist values, but we come from an ancient, patriarchal culture.”

“I know,” I grit out.

“Then complete your duty, baobèi. The sooner the better.”

I bite my tongue to keep all the rebuttals from bursting free. Who cares that I’ve just been shot? That my husband has an enormous cock and that I’m scared he’ll break me? Or how about the fact that I’m terrified I’ll catch more feelings for the bastard once we take that step…

Instead, like an obedient granddaughter, I nod again. “I will do my best, Yéye.”

“Good. Now, help me pack. There is a flight in a few days, and I’m anxious to return to my quiet life.”

I force myself off the chair and follow my grandfather out of Marco’s office, but my heart feels heavier with each step. How am I supposed to survive this without him?

Soft footsteps echo across the quiet penthouse, snapping my eyes open and sending my heart leaping up my throat. Shit. I fell asleep. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and a twinge of anger blossoms in my gut. Despite Marco’s promise to return home soon, it’s nearly midnight. And I passed out waiting for him in a sexy negligee like a fool. Never mind the fact that it took me hours to find the only one I owned with the lacy long sleeves.

The footsteps loom closer, and I freeze. I should have raced to the closet to change, but now it’s too late. He’ll catch me and see that I’m awake. So instead, I sneak under the covers and close my eyes an instant before he enters the loft.

Marco steps closer, the musky scent of bergamot and cedarwood invading my nostrils. I force my lids to remain closed despite the feel of his warm breath against my mouth. Then he does something so completely unexpected, my eyes snap open in spite of my best efforts. His lips brush over mine, ever so gently, like the faint kiss of butterfly wings.

Our eyes meet, and all the air rushes from my lungs.

A crimson hue tinges his cheeks, and it’s unfair how handsome he looks, with those sharp cheekbones, full lips and perfect olive skin. Even that five o’clock shadow only adds to his brutally rugged good looks.

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