Page 131 of My Dark Divine

“I believe you,” he replies. “To counter this, we’ll compile financial records, communications, and any other documentation supporting your non-involvement. Our goal is to demonstrate that you had no hand in the decisions or profits related to these schemes.”

His eyes flicker between us, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. “We’re being transparent. There’s nothing to worry about.”

If you had told me a year ago that I would turn my back on my father, I would have laughed in your face. I never thought I could do such a thing, but West gave me the push I needed to recognize my potential.

I’m not a puppet to be manipulated. I’m a woman capable of achieving great things, including running the business I’ve dedicated myself to.

I’ve tried to provide West with the same encouragement. The drug operation Lucas forced him into—managing it under the company’s roof—crumbled and fell apart once Lucas landed behind bars. West is clean now, practically starting his life anew without substances. We went through hell to help him break free from drugs, and we fucking succeeded.

And me? I’m improving too. When the temptation to numb out with a Xanax or a drink hits, I fight it. I make myself speak up, sharing my feelings with my husband instead. He’s helping me break the habit of shutting down and teaching me to trust him with my emotions.

This is the toughest challenge I’ve ever taken on, yet it makes me feel so much better than all those times I drowned myself in drugs or alcohol. Trauma doesn’t just disappear, but I’m pushing forward, refusing to let fear and my demons take control.

While the court deals with our parents, we need to clear our names. Their actions have tarnished the reputation of our companies, but that doesn’t mean we can’t regain trust. As Jeremy said, the process has already begun.

I’ve finally stopped being afraid and paranoid, openly taking credit for my animal rescue center. When West found out about it, it felt like he fell for me all over again. I never would have guessed that a tough man like him could be moved by somethinglike this, but I was wrong. Now, when we’re free from work, we both visit the center to help out the staff.

And his dream has finally come true. We took Delilah out of the nursing home, and now she’s helping us with the rebuild. Well, ‘helping’ is a strong word—mostly, she sits in a chair with a cigarette tucked between her teeth, commanding everyone in the office. She snaps at the poor secretaries whenever they don’t put enough sugar in her coffee, but they never seem to get it right.

Her presence means a lot to us. I’m happier knowing that someone who brought so much light into West’s life is nearby.

Right now, our goal is to demonstrate that we are moving forward with integrity and purpose as we take charge of our companies. There’s a lot of tedious work ahead of us, but we’re ready for it. After all, our lives have revolved around this business. There’s nothing we can’t do. Deep down, we’ve always known we were meant to rule—to build our own empire.

“Give us a moment,” West commands, dismissing Jeremy.

He offers us a quick smile, grabs his bag, and walks out of the room in silence. The door hasn’t even fully shut before West’s hands find my hips, tugging me toward him. His face hovers near the side of my leg, his lips brushing softly against the exposed skin at the cut of my dress. My eyes flutter closed, and I gasp as his warm breath caresses my skin, fingers threading through his hair.

“My wife,”he murmurs, kissing my exposed flesh and sending a rush of pleasure through me. Hearing those two words from him feels profoundly special—like being truly treasured.

Being loved.

When he looks up and his eyes lock with mine, I bite my bottom lip, feeling a surge of tingling joy that wipes away all rational thought. Each time he looks at me, it feels like the first moment all over again.

“Come here,” he says, his hands untangling from my legs as he pulls me into his lap. I laugh as my arms snake around his neck, settling onto his knees.

These are the moments that give me the best kind of bliss—when he’s so desperate, like he can’t stand even a moment without me. He’s a walking, talking addiction—always craving, always needing, always wanting more. It’s a good kind of crazy. The best kind of crazy.

His oceanic eyes hold my gaze before tracing the curve of my cheek as he brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. The air crackles with unspoken desire, and I refuse to wait any longer. I surge forward, my lips meeting his in a collision of need as the world tilts on its axis. My fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the thin fabric as I try to steady myself.

The kiss lingers, a delicious ache that seems to stretch forever. When he pulls away, he chuckles, the sound a warm breeze against my skin. My heart stumbles, a familiar thrill flowing through me—a reminder of the magic we share. The realization settles deep in my stomach, just as it always does—the same undeniable feeling.

I chose to burn in hell beside him, and I’ve never felt more alive.

“Did Chloe try to call you again this morning?” I ask, eager to change the subject before I jump on him right here with people waiting outside. It would be utterly unprofessional on my part. “I heard how frustrated you were. Was she asking for money again?”

His sister has been calling both of us since this all started, demanding that we stop and help Lucas in some way. Not out of love for her father, but because she’s lost her source of money and doesn’t know how to get it. West didn’t take everything from the stash they had, leaving her enough to start her ownlittle business, but she wasted it all on partying, and now she’s whining that she can’t pay her bills.

Despite Lucas wanting her to play a major role in the company, she’s slumped like a puppet with its strings cut since he was put behind bars. She’s too clueless to come up with any plans, and therein lies the irony: Lucas’s lovable angel has practically betrayed him.

“She was,” West replies bluntly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck. My eyes roll as he plants a small kiss there, his gentle touch sending goosebumps across my skin. His hands are on my waist, squeezing possessively. “But I don’t give a shit about Chloe. I don’t give a shit about anything, baby girl, except you.”

“Is that so?” I challenge, and he lifts his head, meeting the glimmer in my eyes. “You know, I don’t think it’s healthy to be so clingy.”

An arrogant smirk curves his lips. “Want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing my answer.

“Never.”

Using every ounce of strength, I pry his hands from my waist and bring them to mine. The heat that spreads through me as I see my small hands nestled in his large, veiny ones is blissful, each time feeling like the first. “I still can’t believe we actually did this,” I whisper. “It doesn’t feel real.”

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