𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑 || 𝐋.𝐌 ✓

➢Chapter 13- All the wrong reasons

Lucius never came to their shared bedroom last night, so when Y/n woke in the morning, it was to a strange room in a strange bed by herself. Which was pretty much par for the course since her marriage. But last night was especially odd.

She'd gone from stripping for him, to accepting his kisses, to nearly having sex on a desk, to...nothing. She'd peeled back another layer of her husband in that moonlit office. Heat had sizzled between them as per their usual, but this time he'd been almost...dare she say it? Fun.

By the time he'd turned on her in the foyer, shooting her with a cold glare and snarling lip, she was completely confused. And the last thing she'd been willing to do was chase after him when he stomped into the kitchen. She'd instead watched his retreating figure wondering what had set him off.

Getting lost in the house had them laughing and bantering—it was more funny than frustrating, so she didn't think that was what turned him. After that near-kiss in the corridor, she'd expected him to haul her upstairs over his shoulder and have his wicked way with her. Instead, he'd clicked like a switch. All over her one minute and disinterested the next.

No, not disinterested. There had been something else freezing the air between them. Something he hadn't been willing to talk about. Something that had sent him running from her instead of to her.

She tried to tell herself she didn't care as she dressed for work. Tried to convince herself that whatever had happened between them, it was for the best that they hadn't acted on their desires. But the moment her heels clicked from the foyer to the kitchen, she'd gone from contemplative to enraged.

She spotted him the moment she entered the kitchen. Pressed suit, facial hair trimmed, tie in place. His profile was to her as he filled his mug with coffee.

"Well. Look who's up," she said coolly.

He turned and her heart dipped just a little. There was so much fatigue in his eyes, she almost felt bad for him. Had he slept at all? Then she remembered the shit he'd pulled last night and allowed her anger to take the driver's seat. No matter what they should or shouldn't be doing, his rejection and the way he'd shut her out stung.

"Good morning," he replied, frowning.

What.

Ever.

"My bed was lonely. Care to share where you spent last night? Here at the table? On your yacht? Or did you..." She trailed off when he tipped his head subtly to the side. She heard the crinkle of a plastic bag and slowly turned to find Brooke on the other side of the room, fresh trash bag in hand, cabinet door open. Y/n hadn't seen her there. And now someone else knew Lucius hadn't slept in the same bed as his wife last night.

"I'm sorry, darling," he replied, coming to her. "I ended up working until almost four in the morning and slept in the office." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and tipped her chin. "You were so exhausted last night, I didn't want to wake you."

Her anger morphed into disappointment, which was less sharp but cut deeper. She'd washed in here on a wave of anger, ready to hash things out. Share what was really bothering her. He owed her his honesty behind closed doors. If she was expected to live here with him and pretend to be his blushing bride, the least he could do is treat her with respect.

He offered his coffee mug. "Cream?"

Apparently, her husband was content to carry on business as usual.

"Not today," she answered, covering for the fact that Lucius didn't know how she took her coffee.

"Keeping me on my toes, I see," he said, his voice annoyingly light.