ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 50

HELENA

It's late Afternoon.

I have to say goodbye to my kids for a while. Alana is already asleep, her breath soft and even. I stroke her delicate curls before planting a kiss on her tiny hand, letting my lips linger for a moment longer than necessary.

I walk down the hall slowly, as if time might stretch in my favor. In the living room, I pause at the window and watch my family. Marco is with the twins in the backyard, helping them practice.

They laugh, darting like fireflies, full of a joy I wish I could bottle. Seraphina, meanwhile, is at the pool, splashing her instructor relentlessly as he tries — and fails — to teach her how to swim backward. Her laughter is emblematic of everything pure.

"I'll be back soon," I whisper, my hand pressing against the cool glass, biting my lip as my mind contemplates my decision just for a subtle second. "I promise. I love you."

With a sigh, I turn away and make my way to his office before my parental side takes over and I back off the plan. Two knocks.

"Come in."

He doesn't even glance up at first, his eyes glued to some file as if it holds the secrets of the universe. "I want to go out," I say firmly, standing up for my decision.

Only then does he set the papers aside, leaning back. A smile tugs at his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes — still holding onto our fight, obviously. "Now you want to talk to me?"

I heave. He has a way of making guilt feel like gravity. Weeks ago, I confronted him — rigorous honesty — about the woman.

The pregnant woman he kept locked away like an animal. And his response? Don't stick your nose in my business. Cruel. Callous. Unapologetic.

I used to think we were akin to love. Now I realize what we have eludes simple definition. It's too tangled in power, in pain.

He has this uncanny ability to shirk accountability. But there's no eluding this conversation anymore. He walked over me, leaving a notch on his heart. Making me feel less. And I let him.

Never again.

"You ignored me when I confronted you. Don't act like I'm the one being unreasonable. Tell your watchdogs to let me out," I snap, folding my arms.

He stays stoic. And then, shakes his head slowly. "I only said not to stick your nose in my business. You're not going out. It's not safe."

"Roman is my business. He's like family to me. He wouldn't hurt me. That makes it safe," I tell him with pure confidence, not doubting Roman for a second.

"Stop defending his pathetic ass," he snaps, his calm composure crumbling down, as he doesn't like how I defend his latest foe — if he can even count as one.

"Then stop being an ass!" I bite back, his exasperation not scaring me at all, because I know he is the last one to hurt me — at least physically — if I let my heart out of our fight.

"Careful, baby," he warns, tone phlegmatic but eyes sharp. "Yours will be red if you keep acting like a brat."

"Oh, what a weak excuse to touch me. Are you that frustrated? Already?" I raise a brow, arms crossed, mocking him.

"You think you can blackmail me with sex?" he growls. Yes, yes I can, and I am doing it, and I am very well enjoying it, as I know he is suffering under blue balls condition.

"Call it what you want. But my bed — my legs — are closed for any funny business until you stop acting like a damn lunatic."

I strut forward and spin his chair toward me. Then I straddle him, lowering myself onto his lap, our eyes locked. "How's the couch? Comfy?"