VEGASPETE🔞+KEEPING MY HUSBAND

Chapter-9

PETE POV

WE’RE ON OUR way to Vegas’s father’s house for dinner. I haven’t spoken to Vegas since the night when I found out he cheated on me. Or at least I think he cheated on me anyway. He never did come out and admit it, but he was definitely with a boy that night. The evidence of their encounter was clearly written in lipstick on the collar of his shirt.

I’ve been holed up in my room for a couple of days. Thankfully, Big was bringing me my meals, otherwise I would have probably starved. Not once did Vegas come to apologize or check on me. Not that I expected him to. That’s simply not Vegas.

Yesterday, I spent the day watching my husband train with his men outside of my bedroom window. He was bruised and cut and covered in blood…and it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Watching him use his fists to fight his way out of situations where one, two or three men were ganging up on him made me hot and bothered to the point where I was practically drooling.

I memorized every detail about his body, and I can’t seem to get the images out of my mind. Vegas’s body looks like it was carved out of stone. His shoulders are broad, tapering to a narrow waist, and I swear he has an eight-pack and not a six pack. And his tattoos…they look like inky works of art stamped on his arms and hands.

VEGAS is dangerous…and hot. There is no doubt about that. He can turn me on with a single look. But with just a few words, he can also turn me off right back. It’s like a light switch when it comes to Vegas. It’s either off or on; there’s no middle ground. We definitely have a love-hate relationship, with an emphasis more on the hate.

The car ride to his father’s house is full of tension. We both remain completely silent the entire way. I could make an attempt at small talk, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

By the time we reach our destination, I am so overwhelmed with anxiety that I open the door and rush out of the car before Kinn can even get out of the driver’s seat. I’m just so desperate for fresh air and to not be in close proximity to my husband a second longer.

Kun Theerapanyakul is waiting on the front porch of his giant mansion that makes our home seem like an apartment in comparison. As I walk up the steps, I realize how much Vegas looks just like his father. They both share the same dark hair and light gray eyes, although Kun has a tint of silver in his locks. I’m sure if they were the same age, they could probably pass for twins instead of father and son.

“Welcome, Pete,” his father says, stepping forward, leaning down and kissing both of my cheeks. “You look lovely.” He towers over me just like Vegas.

“Thank you, Mr. THEERAPANYAKUN.” It took me over an hour to decide on what to wear tonight, but I just went with a little black shirt jines and shoes. You can never go wrong with an LBD.

“Please, call me Kun,” he suggests. Then, his eyes go to his son, and I can feel that growing friction again, except it’s not directed at me this time. “Son.”

“Father.”

A shiver runs through me, but it’s not from the chill in the air. I can tell that this father and son relationship is strained, to say the least. I’m not sure why, and I’m sure Vegas would never tell me the truth even if I asked.

We walk into the grand foyer, and my eyes take in every amazing detail. This house looks like it belongs in a magazine or on TV. It’s so immaculate and extravagant. It’s hard to believe that a little boy once lived here. I wonder if Vegas was ever able to do anything out of line, like leave his toys strewn about, like all little boys do?

Kun leads us into the dining room. It reminds me of a grand ballroom instead of a place to simply eat. The three of us sit at one end of a long dining table that could accommodate forty guests. Kun sits at the head of the table, of course, and then Vegas sits to his father’s right while I sit to his left, straight across from Vegas.