He was the wind that made her world freeze over. She was the fire that lit up his.
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Aren Petros was the stain on the Petros family name, known for his criminal past. And Mila Chambers was the solution to cleaning up his image. So when they find th...
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author's note: here is yet again another apology for the wait for this chapter! i was a serial procrastinator with work i had to do for university over the summer and now have two weeks to read 27 books. i hope you enjoy this chapter! they are starting to have a mutual understanding :))
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AREN DIDN'T COME out of his office for the rest of the afternoon. Whatever they were discussing had required all of his attention so I busied myself the best way I knew how after working since we had decided it wasn't allowed.
Sleep.
I was woken up by a gentle hand on my shoulder after a glorious nap that I was sure had to be at least three hours considering the sky was darkening. Aren was sitting on the side of my bed, watching me with apologetic eyes. I tried to blink away the sleep to the best of my ability and looked around for my phone.
"It's six o'clock," he spoke, withdrawing his hand from my shoulder. "I thought I'd wake you in case you were hungry."
I leaned up onto my elbows and peered up at him. "What about your work?"
He winced. "All done. I'm sorry."
I sat up properly and shook my head, self-conscious about my messy bed hair. "No need to apologise." I flattened my hand over my hair and pushed the covers off me. "How about I meet you in the dining room in ten?"
He stood up from the bed with a slow smile. "Actually...meet me in the room across the foyer."
My gaze met his and I tilted my head slightly in confusion. "What are you planning, Petros?"
He lifted his index finger and tapped the side of his nose suspiciously. "Nothing you're not already aware of." He turned on his heel and headed towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs."
I shook off the weird feeling that Aren was being more friendly out of misplaced guilt. Maybe he felt bad that he was the one to let work get in the way of our honeymoon but I didn't know how to tell him that it honestly didn't matter. We didn't need to pretend with each other so we didn't need to pretend that our 'honeymoon' was anything more than a spectacle to sell our contract marriage.
Despite that, I freshened up and made my way downstairs, cautiously pushing open the door that was opposite the foyer on the ground floor. Aren was sat on the floor, cross-legged with takeaway bags and food laid out in front of him on a small prop-up table but that wasn't what shocked me.
The painting that was hanging on the wall captivated me and I couldn't help the gasp that fell from my lips. It was beautiful.
It was of the night sky above a raging ocean. The whole canvas was painted with dark colours and the only bright feature was the glowing full moon. It reflected in the ocean, slightly hazy due to the ebb and flow of the water. It made me feel at peace and at the same time, unsteady—just like how the sky was still and the ocean was not.
