Page 65 of The Devious Husband

He brushes my hair out of my face, his hand trailing down to my chin. Xavier lifts my head so I’m facing him, our eyes locking. “I failed to protect my own sister, failed to find her when she was taken, yet somehow, I deluded myself into believing I could keep you safe. I wanted you so badly that I lied to myself, to you — about who I am, and the risks that come with being my wife. There’s a reason I stayed away from you back when I was stealing those projects from you, quietly hoping that our future would play out the way I wished it would. At least back then, I had the good sense to keep my feelings for you hidden, because I’d known, deep down, that you belong in the light, and my life will always be cast in shadows.”

“I belong with you,” I tell him as I push his shirt off his shoulders. “I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again: I chose to love you, Xavier Kingston. The good, the bad, and everything in between. I know exactly who you are, now more than ever before, and I’d still choose you.”

He cups the back of my head and brings me closer, his expression conveying pure torment. “How could you love someone like me, Sierra? You don’t need to pretend for me, Kitten. You don’t need to act like sitting there and being forced to listen to every fucking crime I’ve ever committed didn’t change the way you see me, nor do you have to act like you don’t blame me, when we both know I was the reason you nearly burned to death.”

I reach for him and hold his face, keeping his eyes on mine. “It didn’t change a thing for me,” I tell him truthfully. “I’ve always known who you are, Xavier. I might not have been certain the rumors were true, but I knew chances were high that they were, and it still never stopped me from messing with you every which way — because I know you, and I knew there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t let me get away with.” I slide my hand around the back of his neck, my eyes never leaving his. “I don’t blame you for the actions of another man, one who clearly deserved what you’d done to him. Hearing about your past and the things you’ve done didn’t change how I see you, Xavier. Those are just things that shaped you, but they don’t define you.”

He drops his forehead to mine, his breathing shallow. “My nightmares have started to change,” he admits. “Every goddamn night, I’m completely fucking helpless as as another person on the long list you were told about takes you from me, brutally murdering you in the same way I ended their life. I can’t look at you anymore without fearing the future, without regretting everything you’ve had to endure purely because I was too selfish to let you chase your own happiness. I stole the future you should’ve had, Sierra, and it’s the most unforgivable crime I’ve ever committed.”

My heart twists painfully as I take in the pain in his eyes, the undeserved self-loathing. “The only thing I’d find truly unforgivable is you giving up on us just as we’ve found happiness together. I don’t want a future with anyone but you, Xavier. I never did, and I never will.”

Fifty-Seven

Sierra

I try my best to control my temper as I park the bespoke car Xavier gave me when we got married right in front of his office building, not bothering to park it in his garage. Two armored vehicles accompany me, courtesy of my mother-in-law, who has become overly concerned about me and will no longer let me go anywhere without my dedicated security team driving in front and behind me, every single person on it vetted and appointed personally by my father-in-law.

Becky, my new personal bodyguard, opens the door for me, and I step out of my car, my stilettos clicking against the pavement as I walk into Xavier’s office building, heads turning as I make my way through the lobby, my bodyguard in tow.

Sam jumps out of his seat when the elevator doors open on the top floor, nerves written all over his face. “Ms. Windsor,” he says, the way he usually does. “Mr. Kingston is currently in a meeting. I do apologize.” The first few times he told me that, I’d left, not wanting to bother Xavier and unable to wait around for long due to my own work schedule. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he was lying to my face.

I pause in front of him and raise a brow. “Would you like to try that again?” I ask, smiling without an ounce of amusement. “I suggest you start by addressing me by the right name. It’s Mrs. Kingston to you.”

His eyes widen. “Mrs. Kingston, plea?—”

I tap his arm and smile, cutting him off. “That’s better. Good job, Sam. Now, you will get out of my way. The question is, are you going to do it voluntarily, or will you require Becky’s assistance?”

He looks past me, at my bodyguard, and steps aside, his head lowered. I glance over my shoulder, silently communicating to Becky that I want her to guard the door, and she nods sharply.

My hair sways as I turn around and walk into my husband’s office, finding him seated behind his desk, decidedly not in a meeting. “Hello, Xavier,” I say in a sugary sweet voice, taking in his guarded expression as I slam his door closed and walk up to him. He turns his chair toward me when I walk around his desk, and I place my shoe between his thighs, at the edge of his seat. “Remember me?” I ask, sliding my foot forward, right up to his crotch. “I’m your wife — Sierra Kingston.”

He leans back in his seat, unfazed. “What exactly are you doing, Kitten?” he asks, his brows raised.

“Oh, so you do remember who I am? Funny. I was certain you must’ve had a concussion I didn’t know about, a lapse in memory. How else do you intend to explain why you’ve been forgetting to come home to me for nearly two weeks now?”

I have it on good authority that he’s been staying at a highly secure place owned by Enzo, which I’m not authorized to enter. We both know he couldn’t have kept me away at any property owned by the Kingstons, and it’s clear he’s intentionally avoiding me. His actions hurt far more than I’m letting on, and I just don’t understand why he’s distancing himself from me to this extent.

Xavier’s eyes flash the way they used to, back when he used to love my crazy behavior and returned it with a level of madness I always enjoyed, but then that light dims, and he looks away. “I’m just busy with work,” he says, seemingly not caring that it doesn’t even remotely sound like a good excuse.

He hasn’t been himself since I was captured, and for the first three weeks, he woke up screaming my name nearly every night, his nightmares refusing to loosen their hold over him until I pulled him into my arms, reassuring him I was fine. In hindsight, that was the part that was manageable. What came after it was far, far worse.

As the weeks passed, he became unable to look me in the eye, and unless I touched him first, he wouldn’t show me any of the affection I’d gotten used to. He stopped meeting me halfway when I came home, seemingly no longer excited to see me, like he used to be, and he stopped kissing me good night. There were no text messages anymore, no phone calls, no holding hands, until eventually, he just stopped coming home. I’ve been losing him slowly, over the course of two months, and there isn’t a single thing I’ve been able to do about it. No amount of talking to him about it has helped, and I don’t know what to do anymore. The more time passes, the more this situation infuriates me.

“Fine,” I tell him. “Let’s sell the company. If you’re so busy that it’s keeping you from me, it’s not worth having. Sell it.”

His expression cracks just a smidge, something akin to amusement flickering through his eyes for a brief moment, and my heart skips a beat. If there’s anything I excel at, it’s getting a reaction out of him, and I need it now more than ever before.

I sigh when my husband just doesn’t give me a response. Instead, he merely stares at me, almost like he’s waiting to see how long it’ll take to wear me down and chase me away, without him even having to say a thing.

Each time I try to talk to him, he just shuts down, leaving me feeling like I’m talking to a wall. It’s infuriating, and I have no idea how to get through to him. I know him, and I know he loves me more than anything. Xavier spent years acquiring companies I wanted, naming them so an acronym of them spelled my name by the time he gifted them to me. Those are not the actions of a man that’s anything but deeply committed, and I’m trying my best to remember that.

“Don’t want to sell?” I ask, not expecting a response. He’s refusing to play my games, but I know he can’t resist forever. I have years of experience taunting him. I excel at it more than I do my actual job. “That’s okay. I’ll just help you out with your workload.”

I throw him a sweet smile as I seat myself on the edge of his desk and face him, placing my hands behind me as I lean back, knowing full well that he should be able to see the contours of my nipples as the fabric of my dress stretches over my breasts. I dressed up for him today, making sure not to wear any underwear under the tight, short black dress I’m wearing. “Just tell me what I can help you with, Xave, and I’ll do it. I can be very helpful if you ask nicely.”

Xavier’s eyes zero in on my chest, and I watch as he clenches his jaws before looking out the window instead. The bitter sting of rejection hits me hard, and I look down, my confidence wavering for a split second. I’ve never tried to seduce a man before, and it’s clear I’m failing at it. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m desperate for his attention and unwilling to give up, even if it means making a fool of myself. Nothing else has worked so far.

I bite down on my lip and decide to change tactics as I slip off his desk and turn my back to him, bending over his desk to reach for his mouse. My movements make my dress ride up, and my heart begins to hammer in my chest at the thought of exposing myself. I’ve put myself at an angle where my ass is pretty much right in his face, and if I bend over even a little more, he’ll realize that I’m not wearing a single thing under this dress.

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