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: nothing to say but sorry for the month-long break! time has been flying without me realising LOL. also updated the graphics for this book to reignite my inspiration. let me know what you think of the chapter!
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THE TOUR HAD been relatively long considering our house consisted of three floors, six bedrooms—what we would use them for was beyond me—and five bathrooms. Aren had his own office and showed me an empty room, similar to his, that I could use if I wanted to work from home. I doubted I ever would but it was a nice sentiment. That and the room he proposed he could have made into a library for me.
The most interesting part of the tour had been the room he had said was completely off-limits. He had equated it to his very own man cave and joked that even if I wanted to sneak a peek, the door only opened with his thumbprint.
One thing I noticed very quickly was that the house had high-tech security and was very modern. It was decorated to his tastes but had a luxury feel with greys, blacks and pops of green.
The last part of the tour had him show me two of the bedrooms, his and mine, that were separated by a single door. The philosophy behind it was it would look like we slept in the same room but I could have my own space.
Sleeping in my own bed after a week of sharing one with him was amazing. I didn't have to worry about hogging all the covers or accidentally slinging any part of my body over his. I knew that I wouldn't be able to get over the embarrassment, hence the pillow barrier.
Sleeping separately meant I slept soundly for the first time since we returned from our honeymoon. The first morning after, however, felt strange. Gone was my solo coffee time in my kitchen while reading a book and in its place was breakfast prepared by Aren's private chef.
"How would you like your eggs, Mrs Petros?" Scarlett, the private chef, asked as she took the egg carton from the fridge.
I winced slightly at the end of her question, shaking my head softly. "Please, Mila is fine. And poached would be great, thank you."
She smiled and began making my eggs.
My eyes roved around the room, looking at the black cabinetry and countertops. The appliances were all built-in, and the kitchen had a sleek and modern look.
I was sat by the island with a small cup of coffee and just as I thought to ask Scarlett a few questions, Aren came up behind me. I smelled his woodsy cologne before his hand curved around my shoulder and his lips against the back of my head.
He brought his arm around my collarbone and leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek. "Morning, άγγελε μου."
My eyes flitted to Scarlett momentarily before I plastered a smile on my face and leaned back into his embrace. "Morning, Aren." I tilted my head slightly to look him in the eye. "You smell good."
