Page 56 of Between Dusk and Dawn

Being intentionally provocative, I put him in a corner. "Fuck, Madison!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his long hair.

"That's what karma is," I retorted, sauntering out of the barn. "Shouldn’t have lied to me about yoga."

"At least avoid the house…please. He will kill both of us if you get caught." Heading toward the hot tub, I relished the sense of victory.

I would finally get the revenge I’d always wanted on Walsh Solis.

Chapter Twenty-One

Isaw her.

She was pissing me the fuck off by being outside in the freezing temperatures in only a pair of underwear. Wait a fucking second? I walked over to the large window in the office where I was last night with Enzo.

I attempted to steer my father's anger toward me, hoping to divert his attention from the infuriating scene outside. He continued berating me for getting married, making my day unfold in ways I had never imagined.

Speaking of Enzo, where the fuck was he? I purposefully tasked him to oversee her door so none of this would happen. I needed her protected and away from my dad as he scolded me, insult after insult.

I let my dad berate me, absorbing his shouts and criticisms. I knew he’d seen the news the moment it broke this morning in the papers. It was amazing how quickly the media picked up on the town's most influential family's son getting married. Thankfully, I was able to confine it to only a small local paper, wiping all evidence of any articles online so the Irish weren't able to get word.

"I can't believe you went ahead and got yourself married without consulting me, Walsh. What were you thinking?" His face reddened with anger. His dark hair falling out of his perfectly gelled style.

"Things changed," I retorted, trying to keep up the facade of a heated argument while Madison continued her impromptu performance outside.

Yet the longer he chided me, the more I could keep him from witnessing Madison's act outside. I hadn't anticipated her to be wearing an ex-boyfriend's sweatshirt and, to my dismay, stepping into the hot tub for an apparent show.

My gaze was frozen on my beautiful wife as she dipped into the water. Someone was going to get fired today.

"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into. Explain yourself," my father demanded, bringing my attention back into the room.

"I've got my reasons, Dad. I'm not asking for your approval," I replied, stealing glances at Madison, who seemed to be reveling in the discomfort she was causing.

"You're making a mockery of this family. Do you even care about the consequences?" He continued, his voice reaching a crescendo.

"I have a plan," I stated.

"They are all going to find out. It was everywhere. The news spreads fast, especially amongst the wives. And your sister?—"

"Ember knows?"

I thought she was out in the countryside, and they suck at getting Wi-Fi most of the time.

I sighed, inwardly frustrated by the distraction Madison was causing. "Look, we can argue about this all day, but I've made my decision."

As my dad continued to vent his disapproval, I desperately wished for the confrontation to be over so I could address the Madison-shaped disruption unfolding outside.

Oh, good. She was lowering herself into the hot tub, the water covering her just enough so the whirls of the jets were right under her tits, bouncing them in the water. She was absolute perfection, and she was mine.

My gaze lingered longer than intended, fixated on her form. She was my Achilles' heel, the disruptor of my well-laid plans. Despite the growing realization that I should tear my eyes away, I found myself unable to do so. She had a knack for dismantling every strategic move I made.

Amidst my distraction, my father, sensing my detachment, rose from his seat to join me. The impulse to flee crossed my mind, a fleeting thought of evading the impending confrontation. Yet I knew the inevitable was approaching, an encounter I couldn't indefinitely dodge.

"She knew exactly what she was doing," I muttered under my breath, a low murmur directed at the woman who had ensnared my attention.

"This must be her…"

"Don’t," I pleaded, trying to spare myself of the scrutiny that would inevitably follow.

"Walsh Ersilio Solis," he scolded, adopting the stern tone of both a leader and a father.

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