Page 21 of Accidental Vegas Vows

Placing her hand back on my knee, she gave it a little squeeze. “Maybe you should message him and check how the annulment is going. I know his lawyer’s good, but as far as I’m aware, they aren’t the quickest things to handle. Maybe just make sure he’s started the paperwork. At least then you can have a little peace of mind.”

She wasn’t wrong. That wasn’t the worst idea she’d come up with, and I desperately needed that peace of mind. I just hated the idea of messaging him to get it — it would open that door again, and I’d shut it when I left his room back at the Bellagio. I hadn’t even responded to his requests to meet them out for drinks the following night. I’d just holed myself up in my suite, trying not to think about how he’d only just booked my room that morning and how much I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself the night before.

I dug through my purse and slipped my phone out of it.

“Fine.”

Chapter 8

Damien

“Achild?”

The incandescent glow of the last of the summer’s sunsets blistered the sky as the sun tucked beneath one of the larger hills behind my sister’s house, lighting her in thick oranges and pinks as we sat on the balcony. She’d never been one for the city, but never wanted to move far from home, either. Woodacre, a small unincorporated town just outside of San Francisco, was perfect for her.

“Apparently,” I sighed. “I don’t understand why Marissa never told me. And if she knew she was… dying, why didn’t she reach out? Why didn’t she prepare me for this?”

Caroline sipped at her glass of red wine as she relaxed back into her lounge chair, her patterned skirt blowing in the breeze. “I don’t know, Dame. Didn’t it end amicably?”

“It wasn’t great but honestly, I didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant not telling me about a fucking son,” I said. Scrubbing at my stubble with the tips of my fingers, I watched as a bird flew above us, far too high for me to tell what kind it was. “I’m waiting on the results of a paternity test.”

She nearly spat out her mouthful of red wine. “A paternity test? Do you not believe her? I would have killed Anthony if he’d asked for a paternity test over Lucas.”

I shrugged. Her husband, fleeting as he was before his death, wasn’t exactly the nicest person around. I wouldn’t have been shocked if he had asked for that — but I wouldn’t have been happy with him, either. “She wasn’t faithful at the end. That’s why we split. Noah might not even be mine and she could have just hoped that saying he was would mean the kid got a pretty cushy life with me.”

“I liked Marissa,” she said, her lips pursing as she turned her head to face me. Long strands of auburn hair blew across her cheeks in the breeze, and I could have sworn that looking into her eyes sometimes felt like looking into the mirror. “I don’t think that’s something she would have done.”

“I’d rather know for certain.”

“I get that. But you can’t just pretend that she is—was—some monster that wanted to ruin your life.” She sipped at her wine again, and again, nearly draining half of the too-full glass. Caroline had never been one to play by the rules of society, whether that meant loudly attending protests or beating down archaic rules like how much wine is acceptable to pour into a glass. “You wanted to marry her, for God’s sake.”

“And that was a mistake.”

“I mean… yes, in the long run,” she said, her stare beginning to look through me instead of at me, as if she was recalling my entire relationship with Marissa. “But you were in love with her. For two years, you were the happiest I’d ever seen you. I think you forget just how much you trusted her.”

I steeled my jaw. “I haven’t forgotten that. That’s why I don’t trust as freely anymore — I can’t forget that.”

“Then why question her motives?”

I loved my sister. Truly. But speaking with her, easy as it was, sometimes felt like slamming my head against a brick wall. “Because she hid a child from me for five years,” I seethed, knocking back the rest of my glass and setting it slightly too harshly on the little wicker table between us. “You’d question everything, too.”

She hummed her agreement as she turned back to the view over the hills and forests. Behind her, the hot tub boiled loudly, its cover snugly in place over the top of it. We dropped into a comfortable quiet between us, listening to the steady boil, the chirping birds, and the rustle of the trees. I understood why she liked it out here — it was a far nicer atmosphere than the veranda of my home back in San Francisco.

I spun the ring on my pinky finger absentmindedly, and my thoughts descended back to Olivia. I hadn’t responded to her text from yesterday quite yet — I wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about it. On one hand, I wanted the annulment, wanted to free myself of the tie to her so I could go back to my normal life and she could have what she wanted. But on the other, the one with the devil on its shoulder, I wanted to claim the prize I’d won. I still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, and I worried that if I didn’t use our marriage to its full advantage because of her views, I’d end up obsessed with her for the rest of my fucking life.

“There’s something else,” I muttered, so quiet I worried Caroline couldn’t hear me.

“Something more pressing than a son?” she said, letting out a breathy chuckle before downing the rest of her glass.

“You’ll want to refill that before I say it.”

She turned to me, her brows knitting as she blinked at me, and picked up the bottle from where it rested on the wooden deck beside her chair. She filled hers and held it out to me — I gladly took it.

I downed two gulps straight from the bottle.

“Fucker,” she hissed.

Tucking the bottle between my thighs, I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to be frank, Carrie.”

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