It’s Monday morning, and while I don’t have classes until this afternoon, he’s the CEO of his company. He makes his own rules, and if he wants to spend the morning sleeping with me in his bed, then that’s his right, and I’m not going to be the one to mess with that.
When I run out of things to scroll through, it occurs to me that my old friend, Google, might be able to offer me some of the answers I’ve been looking for. I open a new tab, and as I type his name into the search bar, a wave of nervousness crashes through me. I feel as though I’m crossing an invisible line, that I’m breaking some level of trust between us, yet I can’t bring myself to put my phone away. Instead, I hit search and watch as pages of articles flood through.
My gaze roams over the screen. Everything is about his company, Di Rozé Security, about this amazing man who built his company from the ground up, turning it into the biggest and best security company across the globe, and while I’m more than proud of him, it occurs to me that if anyone was capable of burning something on the internet, it would be Caesar.
I scroll through the endless pages of articles about his company, when another headline catches my eye: “Di Rozé charged, ten years without parole.”
What the fuck?
I open the article and quickly scan through it, shock rocking through my body with every new sentence I read. Convicted murderer. Attempted kidnapping. Ten years served.
I try to put together all the pieces of the story, hating how heavily it leans into his ex-wife, making her out to be a saint and tearing Caesar to shreds. While I don’t know her or know anything about her, I know the kind of man that Caesar is. He had to have been in love with this woman at some point, so how could he have ever done the things this article is saying he did?
I reach the bottom of the article and immediately start from the top again, and once I’m done, I try to make sense of what I’ve just read.
Caesar kidnapped his newborn son, and when the ex-wife and the new partner came to collect the child, he refused, which is when it turned violent. Caesar killed his ex-wife’s new partner, murdered him in cold blood, and did ten years behind bars because of it.
There’s no way. This has to be wrong. This man, who’s currently holding me as though I’m the most precious being in the world, couldn’t have done what this article is saying he did. When I search it again, I use more detailed keywords, and hundreds more of the same article pop up.
He keeps telling me that he’s a bad man, that I should run while I still have the chance, and this is why. As far as I’m concerned, Caesar has never lied to me, so why the hell shouldn’t I believe him when he says things like this? The evidence is right here, yet the idea of walking away leaves me in agonizing pain.
Tears well in my eyes, and I discreetly slip out from under his arm, taking myself into the bathroom so the tears can flow freely. I don’t even understand why I’m crying so much. Am I crying out of fear, out of learning that this man I’ve only just fallen for is a murderer, or because of the hell he’s had to endure?
Fuck. What is wrong with me?
If everything they’re saying in these articles is true, then I should be slipping out before he wakes and never coming back again.
Maybe I’m delusional, or maybe I’m just a complete moron who has no regard for her own life or safety. Either way, I don’t want to leave. Caesar deserves the benefit of the doubt. He deserves to tell me his own story in his own time. He doesn’t deserve to be feared by the woman he invited into his bed.
With that resolve, the tears begin to dry up, and I wash my face before stealing a fresh toothbrush and getting ready for my day. Everything south of the border is sore, and I have no doubt that getting through my afternoon classes in those stiff auditorium chairs is going to be a punishment, but it was more than worth it.
After finishing in the bathroom, I discreetly step back out into Caesar’s room and make my way to the comfort of his bed. Before I can get in, a hand shoots out, locking around my waist.
A squeal tears out of me as Caesar pulls me back into his bed, rolling on top of me as his lips nuzzle into the side of my neck. He braces himself on his elbows, but I wrap my legs around him, pulling him down against me, making me realize that I don’t give a shit what was said in that article. This right here is where I’m happiest.
Everybody has a past, and if it’s true, and he’s done ten years behind bars making up for what he did, then who the hell am I to hold that over his head? He’s already done the time, paid for his mistakes, and come out the other end. He’s built this incredible life for himself, so as far as I’m concerned, he’s not the same man he was in his old life. This man in my arms is nothing but a bossy CEO with a devilish need to please me and a wicked tongue game.
Unbelievable warmth spreads through me, and I realize I can’t hold it in anymore. I have to tell him how I feel. I can’t keep pretending, not when something so real is waiting at the other end.
“Caesar?” I murmur, nervousness growing in the pit of my stomach and threatening to pull me under.
He pulls back and gazes down at me, putting just the slightest distance between us, and as he watches me, taking in the nervousness in my eyes, his expression changes, already knowing what’s coming.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, my heart already breaking, knowing exactly how this is going to go, but I can’t hold back anymore. I have to let this out before it eats me alive. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Caesar lets out a breath, his arms locking around me as he rolls us across his bed until I’m straddling his hips. As I sit up, I press my hands flat against his strong chest and stare down at him. His hand hovers on my thigh as the other reaches up and brushes something wet off my face, making me realize the tears have started to fall again.
“Don’t say it,” he begs, resignation flashing in his dark stare.
I shake my head. “I tried not to, but it just happened. I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was already too late.”
He brushes my hair back over my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my arm before finally finding purchase at my waist. “I know, hellcat. I think I might have known before you did.”
A heaviness weighs down on me as I search his eyes, having no idea where we’re supposed to go from here. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
“No,” he agrees, his lips pulling into a soft smile as sadness creeps into his eyes, telling me what I already feared. He’s going to let me go. “I’m sorry, hellcat. I should have kept more distance between us. Made it clearer that this couldn’t happen between us.”
I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. You laid out your terms from the get-go, and I agreed. I just . . . I guess I didn’t fully understand what I was agreeing to. I didn’t realize how amazing you were or how you’d make me come alive. I didn’t realize how different it would be with you. I thought we’d have sex once or twice and I’d move on, but I can’t. I don’t want to move on. I’m happy here.”
