A Dance with Danger

Chapter Thirty-Two

>>Tiberius POV<<

If having a short moment with Estelle wasn't already difficult, add her glaring daggers at me and completely ignoring my existence. It had become her favorite pastime since we arrived here four days ago.

The honeymoon was meant to be a chance for us to adjust to married life, but so far, it had been anything but smooth. She had an iron will, a sharp tongue, and the audacity to meet my every move with defiance. She wasn't like anyone I'd ever dealt with before, and though it infuriated me, I couldn't deny it intrigued me as well.

"*How's the honeymoon?*" Father's voice boomed through the phone during one of our daily FaceTime calls. He always managed to look composed and intimidating, even on a small screen.

"With Estelle being moody and me buried in the office? It's going great," I replied dryly, leaning back in my chair. The view from my home office on the island was stunning-blue skies, crystal-clear waters, and lush greenery stretching for miles-but it did little to distract me from the tension brewing between my wife and me.

Father smirked, raising a brow. "You're the one who chose her. Surely, you knew she wouldn't be an obedient little housewife."

I scoffed. "I didn't choose her to be obedient. But I expected... compromise."

"Ah," he drawled, a knowing look in his eyes. "What you expected was submission. And you're not getting it."

I didn't respond, mainly because he was right. Estelle was anything but submissive, and I wasn't sure how to handle her yet.

After the call ended, I decided to step outside and clear my head. I found Estelle lounging on one of the pool chairs, scrolling through her phone with an expression of mild boredom. Her long hair was swept over one shoulder, and her sun-kissed skin glowed under the warm afternoon sun.

I cleared my throat, but she didn't even glance up. Her focus remained on her phone, her fingers scrolling effortlessly as if I didn't exist.

"How's the honeymoon treating you?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

Finally, she glanced at me, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Fantastic," she said flatly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "What are you doing later?"

Her lips curved into a mockery of a smile. "Oh, is this the part where you try to make me crumble for you?" she asked, her voice laced with venom.

I walked around the chair and stood directly in front of her, blocking the sun. She looked up at me, her glare unwavering, and I felt a familiar flicker of frustration.

"Do you always have to make things so difficult?" I asked, crossing my arms.

She set her phone down on the small table beside her and leaned back in the chair, regarding me with an air of defiance. "Do you always have to act like you're in control of everything?"

"I *am* in control," I replied, my voice low. "Whether you like it or not."

Her laugh was short and humorless. "You're delusional if you think you have control over me."

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. Instead, I took a step closer, lowering my voice. "You can fight me all you want, Estelle. But sooner or later, you'll realize we're on the same side."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what side is that? The one where you dictate every move I make? No, thanks."

I leaned down, placing one hand on the armrest of her chair and the other on the backrest, effectively caging her in. "You don't trust me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "And that's your problem, not mine."

Her gaze didn't waver, but I noticed the slight hitch in her breath, the faint tension in her shoulders. She was trying to keep her composure, but I knew I was getting under her skin.

"You've done nothing to earn my trust," she shot back, her voice steady despite the storm in her eyes.

"And yet," I said, leaning in slightly, "you married me."

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "That doesn't mean I trust you. It means I had no choice."

"Everyone has a choice," I said, straightening up. "You made yours, Estelle. Now you'll have to live with it."

I walked away before she could respond, the conversation lingering in the air like an unresolved storm.

---

By the time evening rolled around, I found myself standing on the balcony, a glass of scotch in hand as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, and the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air.

I heard the soft sound of footsteps behind me and turned to see Estelle stepping onto the balcony. She was wearing a simple sundress, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She looked stunning, but her expression was guarded, her eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place.

"Did you need something?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

She hesitated, her hands gripping the railing as she looked out at the view. "Why did you bring me here?"

I raised a brow. "I told you. It's our honeymoon."

She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. "No, I mean, why *here*? Why not Brazil or Italy or some place that's... normal?"

I took a sip of my drink, considering her question. "Because this is mine," I said finally. "And I wanted to share it with you."

She frowned, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. "That's it? No ulterior motive?"

I smirked, setting my glass down on the railing. "You think everything I do has an ulterior motive?"

"Doesn't it?" she countered.

I stepped closer, my gaze locking onto hers. "Not everything, Estelle. Believe it or not, I'm not as complicated as you think."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "You're the most complicated person I've ever met, Tiberius. And that's saying something."

"Maybe you just don't know me well enough yet," I said, my voice softening.

Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the tension between us seemed to ease. But just as quickly, she looked away, her walls snapping back into place.

"You're impossible," she muttered, turning to leave.

"And yet," I called after her, "you're still here."

She didn't respond, disappearing back inside the house. I watched her go, a small smile tugging at my lips. Estelle might have been stubborn, defiant, and infuriating, but she was also the most fascinating person I'd ever met.

And I wasn't about to let her go.