Husband (Betrothed 2) - Page 71

“You know, booze and whores.”

“On a Tuesday?”

“Uh…like every day.”

I’d chuckle, but my mood wouldn’t permit it.

When Damien realized I wasn’t going to speak, he carried the conversation. “Sooo…how bad was it? Like, there was a shootout? Or you know, just some wrestling in the middle of the floor? Maybe a bitch-slap? Maybe two?”

“I wish.”

“For the bitch slap? I can do that for you.”

I sighed into the phone. “Shut up, Damien.”

“If I did, this would be a really boring conversation. I’d just have to sit here and listen to you stewing all night long. No thanks. So tell me what happened.”

“Not much to say. Ash wants nothing to do with me. That’s the bottom line.”

“And Sofia had no pull?”

“No. She cast her spell, but it didn’t work.”

“Hmm…maybe he’s gay.”

“No…just stubborn.”

Damien was quiet for a while. “So, you think this is hopeless?”

“Yes.” I took a drink before returning the glass to the table. “But I can’t give up. If he never forgives me, then I can never break the curse. That’s a life I refuse to accept.”

“Well, if your brother is anything like you, he’ll always be stubborn. Maybe it’s time to take a break. Come home, wait a couple weeks, and then try again. If you come at him day after day, you’re not gonna wear him down. You’re just gonna piss him off. Well…there’s another option… But you’ll never go for it.”

“I’m desperate. I’ll go for anything.”

He released a sarcastic laugh. “Not this, man.”

“What is it? Damien, just spit it out.”

Damien released a long sigh into the phone. “Well, he hates you, but he doesn’t hate beautiful women. Sofia is beautiful, and damn, she’s persuasive. I’m sure the conversation would be much different if it were just the two of them.”

“Yeah… you’re probably right.” I stared at my glass on the table, repulsed by the idea of leaving my wife alone with a man like Ash. But I couldn’t deny Damien’s logic. At dinner, Ash was noticeably different speaking to my wife. Softer. Calmer. Kinder. But once his eyes were on me, it was full-blown hatred. Sofia balanced my coldness, offset my rough exterior. She was an asset that could help me immensely. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to use her.

“I think that’s your best bet. I know you don’t like that idea. Neither do I. But maybe give it a chance. And if that doesn’t work…throw in the towel. If your brother was gonna do something, he would’ve done it by now.”

“But if I send her in there, I’ll be sick to my stomach.”

“Then have him meet her somewhere else.”

“I doubt he’ll even take my call at this point.” Our relationship seemed to be worse by the end of that dinner rather than better. Sofia did all she could, but her charms couldn’t fix what I’d done. I would just give up and go home, but there was too much at stake.

“That’s why you have her call, idiot.”

In any other situation, I wouldn’t even consider it, but this had to be done…no matter the cost. “I gotta go, Damien.”

His grin was audible through the phone. “Get that shit done.”

When Sofia stepped out of the bathroom, she was dressed in a dark blue sundress, a gold necklace around her neck. Her hair was in soft curls, and she looked ready for the runway, not an average day. She ran her fingers through her hair and shifted her gaze to look at me. “Morning.”

I stood in my black sweatpants, a coffee mug in my grasp. I took a drink, and I looked at her, marveling at how pure her beauty was. It was simple, easy, but so profound. Makeup or no makeup, it didn’t make a difference. She was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. I was so absorbed in the moment, so consumed by my own thoughts, I’d already forgotten what she’d just said.

As if she knew exactly what had happened in my head, she gave a bright smile. Her palm pressed against my bare chest, and she leaned in and kissed me. “It’s nice to see you drink coffee. Your breath always smells like scotch.”

“Your breath always smells like my dick.”

She rolled her eyes playfully then turned away and poured herself a mug of coffee.

I watched her movements, one hand resting in the pocket of my sweatpants.

She added a splash of cream before she turned back to me. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you weren’t in bed half the night.”

Maybe I wasn’t as subtle as I thought. The longer we lived together, the more she understood me, the more she picked up on my habits, my moods. The more she understood when to comfort me and when to leave me alone. She’d made the right decision last night. Giving me space was exactly what I needed. I didn’t bother explaining what happened because she already knew. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Tags: Penelope Sky Betrothed Billionaire Romance
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