Possessed By You (The Consumed Series Book 3) Read online

  “Darcy Fontaine.”

  My spine stiffens at the outburst behind me and the voice that I recognize all too easily. With a twist in my stool, I brace myself for unpleasantness.

  “Alexander.”

  My husband’s brother is regarding me closely, a feigned sentiment of awe plastered on his face. He fits in with the room, clad in a stiff suit with a suitcase tucked under his arm, as if there were top-secret instructions inside.

  “I thought it was you. The tan suits you.”

  I manage a smile and glance over at Kevin. “Kevin, this is Alexander, Benjamin’s brother.”

  Finishing off his second shot, Kevin says, “Hi.”

  Alexander smiles enough for it to be passable. “I heard about the trial. Sorry I wasn’t there to support you.”

  My annoyance is irresistible. “You don’t like me, Alex. Why would you support me?”

  Kevin’s a poor bystander, stuck in the thick tension simmering between us.

  “Still only have eyes for my brother?”

  “You haven’t heard? They got married over the weekend,” Kevin proclaims, acting as though he weren’t just informed of the news himself.

  Alexander laughs it off, finding the statement a jest. “No, Benjamin wouldn’t marry anyone.”

  I lift my hand, showcasing my fingers and, more importantly, the rings adorning my ring finger. “It seems he would.”

  He stares at the rings for a moment, then his lips purse in what looks like anger. “Well, it seems I’m mistaken. Can’t blame him, though. You have a way of getting under the skin. I know that firsthand.”

  Realizing he’s referring to the short period of time where he imagined he and I would become something greater, and clearly still hung up on it, I shut it down. “Are you just getting here?”

  “No, I actually have to get going.” He gestures to a group of men near the door waiting on him. “Give my brother my congratulations. We have to all get together sometime, celebrate this wonderful occasion.”

  The sarcasm laced in the last part of his farewell isn’t lost on me.

  “Good to meet you, Kevin. Enjoy.”

  He walks away stiff as a board, and Kevin chuckles.

  “Well, he’s definitely not happy you’re married.”

  I glare at him, signaling the bartender. “Another, please.”

  Kevin whistles, enjoying my sudden delve into liquor.

  “I don’t understand what that was in the slightest. He loathed me last time we saw each other.”

  “Wasn’t the last time you talked when he confronted you about Benjamin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seems lover boy was hoping you’d say you’d sworn off the handsome billionaire for good.”

  As if his ears were ringing, Benjamin’s name lights up my phone screen settled on my lap. Kevin and I look dubiously at each other before I stand up and walk toward the bathroom, one hand pressed to my ear to hear better.

  “Hi.”

  “Baby…how are you?”

  “Buzzed with no end in sight,” I reply.

  “I’m not even going to let myself worry about that.”

  “Right, because I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I know that a little too well,” he says warmly. “But, you know, if you can’t find a taxi, just call me and—”

  “Ben.”

  I hear his smile.

  His chuckle makes me wish I were with him.

  “Where are you?”

  “My office.”

  “At work? It’s nearing midnight.”

  “I’m catching up. Quite a bit has happened since I ditched my life to marry the beautiful editor with great legs.”

  “You don’t say? Well, this girl is lucky you were so kind as to do that for her.”

  “I think so.” I imagine his smirk, and it immediately brings one to my face. “You sure you don’t want to come crash with me? I could make it worth your while.”

  “I have one last night of freedom, hot shot,” I respond and lean into the wallpaper. “Kevin will probably stay at my place. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be there at two.”

  “It’s so sweet you’re going to help me pack up my place.”

  “The sooner you are moved in, the better. I don’t sleep well when you’re not there.”

  I try to temper the rising blush in my cheeks with a hand, sure it’s useless. I’m dizzy in love and unable to hide it. “Is it bad that I like that?”

  “Yes.”

  I bite my lip, glancing back into the room where Kevin is focused on scrolling through his phone. “I should be getting back to Kevin.”

  My run-in with Alexander, Benjamin’s older, adoptive brother, hovers in my thoughts, reminding me that in marriage, secrets are lethal and destructive. But instead of telling him, knowing I’d ruin his night, I say goodnight without divulging the details.

  I’ll tell him tomorrow when he can look into my eyes and find it impossible to jump to conclusions.

  ***

  “Tell me how it happened,” Kevin asks while we remove the decorative pillows to my bed. We stumbled into the apartment just after one and spent another hour trying to dig through my fridge.

  “What?”

  He sits on the edge of the mattress, in only his jeans. He has no qualms in being bare-chested in front of me nor tucking himself under my covers either.

  “The proposal, the ceremony. I want details.”

  I bite the inner corner of my lip, pushing my hair to the side. “Uh, well, he actually proposed in the shower.”

  His smirk extends boldly. “Together?”

  I evade his question and go on. “It wasn’t like that. It was romantic…I had never expected him to ever propose, let alone demand we do it the next day.”

  “Only he could get away with something like that. Did you even want to get married?”

  “To him, yes.”

  “You never dreamed of a large wedding with family, friends to surround you? I thought all girls did.”

  “I never thought there would be a day where I could imagine getting close enough to someone that I’d want to marry them. We married on the beach, with three people watching, and it was perfect, Kev.”

  “I’m trying to not get offended. You didn’t miss having us there?”

  I roll back the comforter, shooting him a glance. “Of course I did. It’s just Benjamin and I are different people when we’re alone. It’s easier…he did mention a celebratory dinner, though.”

  That perks him up. “Count me in.”

  “Will I be including Doug on the invite list?”

  His smile goes lopsided with defeat. “I’m going to talk to him tomorrow, I think.”

  “I think you should. He’s crazy about you. You can tell when he looks at you.”

  “I’m going to have to take some pointers from you, married woman. Maybe you’ll pass along some luck.”

  I fall back into the bedding at the same time he does, sinking into the airy gel.

  After a life of luck or fate or whatever it can be called against me, his words strike a chord in me. Luck does seem to be on my side, and I can only pray it remains this way.

  ***

  The next morning, Kevin’s leaving just as Benjamin’s arriving. My husband is scaling the steps fluidly in a t-shirt and jeans, ready to work.

  Kevin chuckles when he reaches the top. “Well, well, well…”

  My heart flutters as a small, surprisingly shy smile appears on Benjamin’s face.

  “Hello, Kevin.”

  “You know, when I said get your ass over here and make up, I didn’t necessarily mean marry her right away.”

  “I decided to skip a couple of steps,” Benjamin says, slinging his arm around my back. “Hi, baby.”

  “Hello,” I breathe, bursting at the seams. Kevin rolls his eyes while observing us in our newfound marital bliss.

  “Okay, I’m leaving before you two jump each other in front
of me.”

  He doesn’t see my gape as he descends the flights. Ben is smiling wide next to me, chuckling softly. Yes, Kevin is a piece of work.

  “I don’t know why you’re laughing!” I exclaim, pinching his abdomen, and even though there’s no excess skin to grab ahold of, he shrinks away from me.

  “You’ve gotta admit, he knows us well.”

  “Oh, does he? Well, not today. We’re working. We have my apartment to pack.”

  He cages me to him, refusing to let me enter my premises. “You own books and a few pieces of furniture. We have plenty time.”

  “I take offense to that. My apartment is very beautiful and well furnished.”

  “Your old apartment. You live with me now.”

  “Keep insulting my apartment,” I warn, squirming out of his grasp with a coy smile. “See what happens.”

  He catches me mid-step underneath the entrance, burrowing his face in my hair as I lead him inside.

  ***

  “It’s unhealthy how many damn books you have.”

  “You’d expect less from a bibliophile?”

  Ben puts the moving van into park and climbs out with me. We’re hidden in the private garage, concealed from press…for now. Memories of the swarms of reporters the day of my bail release reminds me that we’re not safe in here. Dimitri and two other men are already waiting, all three of them dressed in casual clothing to help us.

  “I have something to show you,” Benjamin says, laying a gentle hand on my back, moving me toward the elevator. “Dimitri, I’ve labeled the ones we’re keeping. Everything else goes in storage.”

  “Got it, sir,” Dimitri answers, passing by us. My head swivels around, following them.

  “We’re not unloading the car with them?”

  He chuckles, gesturing me into the elevator. “I pay them to do it, Darce.”

  A twinge of guilt supersedes my aching bones, mostly because it’s my things they have to spend the day storing.

  “That reminds me, we need to talk about something,” he adds, inputting the penthouse code.

  “What?”

  “I’m aware we decided not to sign a pre-nup. We do need to talk about money, though.”

  The bell dings, indicating we’ve reached our destination. The word is sitting on my tongue, saturating my mouth with distaste. “Money?”

  “I plan to buy you a vehicle this week, as well as deposit funds into your account. I wanted to let you know before I did it.”

  The time ticks by us in silence while we stand in his foyer, a few feet apart from each other.

  “What on Earth are you talking about?” I finally ask.

  He tilts onto his hip, crossing his arms over his chest. “You knew this was going to happen, Darcy.”

  “I don’t want your money, Ben.”

  He’s expecting a fight, but oddly enough, he seems pleased to hear me say that. And that infuriates me.

  “Did you actually think I wanted that? That I want you to support me? I’m not these women you’re used to banging.”

  His eyes narrow at the low blow, which I refuse to take back. “I want to do this, Darcy. You’re my wife. I want you to have good things.”

  “I do.”

  “Then don’t touch it. Don’t drive the damn car, but I’m getting it for you.”

  “So you have final say, huh?”

  “Darcy—”

  “No, this is my life. If I wanted a car, I’d get one. I make enough money in my job. I don’t need yours. I’m not with you for that. You have to know that by now.”

  “I do know that. I married you because you were different than anyone else. It’s because you are different that I want you to have it.”

  I’m shaking with frustration. “Please, Ben. If I need something, I’ll ask.”

  “This is marriage, Darcy! From what I’ve heard of it, this…this is what normal couples do. They share their possessions with each other!”

  “Yeah, they do! But I don’t have anything to give you! This is completely one-sided!”

  He falls silent at my outburst, and all traction to the argument dissipates upon my candor. Features smooth and eyes searching, he plants himself in front of me and cups my face. “You’ve given me everything, Darcy. Everything I could have ever wanted. Can’t you see that?”

  My knees shake weakly.

  “On that beach, you gave me happiness, and love, and family, real family. My money is nothing. A car is nothing. Let me do it, please. I want to repay you.”

  My hand flattens on his chest as my breath hitches. “Benjamin—”

  “Please, Darcy.”

  I don’t answer him verbally, but I remain silent enough that he understands I’m conceding. He traces the sharp edges of my profile with his thumb gently. “Thank you,” he says softly.

  “I need a shower.”

  Reluctantly, he moves to the side and lets me pass, and I leave him so he can revel in his victory. I strip and step into the shower, grimy in more ways than one. The subject of Benjamin’s unlimited flow of cash is never a subject I like to dwell on long and one I thought we’d left behind along with the pre-nup conversation.

  There’s no reason for me to need the money, except to quell his masculinity. I’m living under his roof; everywhere we go he insists on paying. This money he’s providing me is solely for lavish reward, and it, like the pre-nup, makes me wonder in the back of my mind whether he truly believes me or is still waiting for the day where I’ll prove him wrong and finally max out his account.

  I simmer in the thoughts for far too long, making it impossible to calm down by the time I exit the bathroom in a towel. Benjamin is already showered and dressing into one of his usual expensive suits. We lock eyes in the mirror, but not for long.

  “Going somewhere?” I ask, sifting through my clothes.

  “I have to go into work for a bit.”

  I’m pulling on a bra when he garners enough courage to approach me, holding a tie. “Would you do this?”

  He knows full well how to do a tie, which makes his question one I can’t refuse, knowing he’s trying to dial down the tension before he leaves.

  I hang the sleek fabric around his neck, feeling his eyes on my face as I tuck the fold through the small slot.

  “I didn’t get to show you the surprise.”

  “That wasn’t the surprise?” I blanch at saying that aloud. “I’m sorry. What is it?”

  He turns to the dresser, picking up a black portfolio.

  “I know you don’t like pictures, but I thought you’d like this.”

  “I have nothing to hide from anymore. I’ll learn to like them.” I open the folder and remove the contents inside, finding photographs.

  Pictures from our wedding.

  “There was a photographer?” I ask in confusion, unable to recall any cameras in sight.

  “There was.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see them.”

  He smiles, taking the pile. He sifts through them, searching for a specific one. He pulls one out and hands it to me. Tears well up in my eyes at the captured moment of “You may kiss the bride.”

  We’re both struggling to remain serious in our deliriousness in the shot, making us look all the more happy. The kiss is strong, our grip on each other even stronger.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper.

  He smiles, moving a strand of hair from my eyes. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Can we put one up?”

  “You can put up whatever you want to. This is your house too now.”

  Somehow, he’s rid the tension in mere minutes and replaced it with adoration.

  Overwhelming adoration.

  ***

  Doris gives me a curious once-over while I squirm in her island bench, preparing to unload my news that will either make her incredibly happy or incredibly disappointed. Setting the empty tea kettle into her sink, she offers me a mug of earl grey tea.

  “So, tell me. How have you be
en? How are you and Benjamin?”

  I’d been hoping Kevin would have spilled the news, but unfortunately, no such luck.

  “Married.”

  As if her face hadn’t been disbelieving enough, the sight of my rings nearly sends her to the floor. “You’re married?”

  “He proposed in Bali and insisted on doing the ceremony there.”

  She blinks in shock, hands on her hips now. “I never thought he would want to do that. He’s always been so against the idea of marriage, considering the severing relationship of his parents. Honey, this was a big step for him, for you both.”

  “I know it was. We’ve been doing great, better than great. Although we had an argument about money today.”

  “Pre-nup?”

  “There wasn’t a pre-nup.”

  Her eyes are bugged, but she won’t insult me by verbalizing her awe. “Wow, I’m surprised.”

  “As was I.”

  “He trusts you.”

  “He wants to give me money and a damn car. It’s ridiculous.”

  “You don’t want him to support you?”

  “He already is. All of this other stuff is just taking it over the top. I like working. After so long struggling, I like providing for myself, and he knows that.”

  “What did he say when you said that?”

  “He fought me until I agreed.”

  “That sounds like him.” She rounds the island and takes the seat beside me. “Listen, just let him do it. It’s going to make him happy. He’s worked hard for his wealth, and he’s never had someone to pamper before.”

  “How am I supposed to take these things from him like it’s a normal thing?”

  Doris shrugs. She doesn’t know either.

  ***

  I’m stirring creamy Alfredo sauce into a serving bowl full of al dente pasta, ravenous from the smell of garlic and heavy cream filling the apartment. The table is set, despite the unknown whereabouts of my partner. I’m slicing a loaf of bread when Benjamin makes his appearance, accompanied by the ding of the elevator.

  “It smells good in here,” he says, setting his briefcase on the table. He’s in a far better mood than when we parted, and so am I. Doris helped, as usual.