Vera

Have you ever seen a grown man cry? I have. Two men in my life have wept openly in front of me. The first was Julian, and the second was Alistair. His eagle eyes didn’t miss the faded scars on my abdomen when I showed myself to him. Nor did he hide his tears, listening in sorrowful silence, when I told him my story.

I drew in a shaky breath and forced the words out. “Someone I trusted and had feelings for betrayed me. Holly James, the doctor I’d been casually seeing when you and I weren’t together. She planned the assault. Either Saira or Erin was behind this, but I don’t know which one.”

His face went still. I watched the realization hit—first horror, then grief, then a wave of guilt so fierce it hollowed him out. His eyes locked on the scars across my abdomen, and his voice broke.

He reached for me, every muscle tense, but he didn’t lash out. He just sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding on like he might fall apart if he let go. His cheek pressed to my skin, silent tears wetting my scars.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I should have protected you. I never should have let them close.”

We stayed like that. No tantrums, just pain and tenderness. Grieving what had been done and what we’d lost.

“You’re here now,” I murmured, caressing the curls on his head.

Alistair’s forlorn face, reddened and stained by the sadness of his tears, looked up. “I failed you,” his hoarse voice faltered.

“The world failed us, Scotty. Or maybe we failed ourselves. Whichever way we look at it, it doesn’t matter anymore because we’re here now. Together.” I offered a faint smile and cupped his face with my hands. My thumbs rubbed the prickles of his jaw, feeling it clench tightly.

“I’ll find every person who did this to you, Vera, and there will be no mercy. Not for hurting the woman I love,” Alistair vowed, still on his knees. His green eyes gazed at me with earnest devotion, as if he were praying to a deity.

“Love?” I asked, intrigued.

“Your eyes are as wide as saucers,” Alistair teased with a grin. “I said it, though, didn’t I? I love you.”

I wanted to say the words back, but I was still processing everything that had happened tonight. Was our relationship risky? Perhaps. Was it worth the suffering? I didn’t believe in regrets.

Alistair’s body shifted on top of mine under the silky cover of our bed moments later. The sex was vanilla, but ever so sweet and flavored with unbridled energy. Our kisses were insatiable, and our bodies connected as one energetic force, sweating profusely from the outbreak of our rabid fever for each other.

“I belong here,” he proclaimed, pushing deeper inside me as his body approached the brink of an orgasm.

“I feel you. Every inch,” I gasped, bucking my hips into his, bringing the rhythm of our bodies to a faster pace until reaching the tipping point.

“Come, sweetheart. Let yourself go,” Alistair moaned, his hard length prodding my most sensitive spot.

“I’m coming, Scotty.” I felt the orgasmic waves of lust rise.

He bit my left nipple, claiming victory over my body as I arched my back, screaming his name. My sex contracted, pulling his cock into a torrid tightness. His body paused and stiffened before ramming harder into me at jet speed, working every muscle, from his shoulders to his buttocks.

“Vera!” he shouted, releasing his hot tension. He let out one last grunt, relaxing his shoulders as his sweat-slicked body collapsed into mine. What we made that night was soul-shaking love more powerful than the darkness that threatened me months ago.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Alistair’s deep voice resonated into my ear while the scent of roasted coffee infiltrated my nostrils.

“Mmm, do I smell something delicious?” I asked, waking from deep slumber after an energetic night of passion.

I opened my eyes to my lover’s face, which reflected the serene and playful mood of Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major in the background. The legato melody connected with the rhythm and pace of his fingers as they played with the outline of my curves. The bedroom air’s coolness contrasted with the blond sunlight shining from the windows, highlighting a sprinkling of freckles on Alistair’s tanned, smooth shoulders.

“Here you go,” he said, offering a warm cup of the dark, rich drink. “It’s a fine Italian roast.”

“I love the drink, but I’d choose you over coffee.” I grinned, inhaling Alistair’s musk while kissing his shoulder.

He sipped his coffee before placing it on the bedside table. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he replied with a wink and a grin.

We stayed tangled in sheets, coffee cooling between us. I traced lazy circles on his chest, watching the morning light catch the stubble on his jaw.

“Your parents seem nice,” I said.

He gave a crooked smile. “They have their moments. My mom was relentless, though. Especially after I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child.”

I rolled onto my side, propping my chin on my palm. “What was that like?”

He hesitated, glancing at the ceiling. “Rough. I was the weird kid. Couldn’t sit still, couldn’t focus. The teachers complained. Kids at school.” His mouth twisted. “They called me a freak. Didn’t help that I was tiny. I shot up, finally, but not until after finishing high school.”

Without thinking, I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, trying for nonchalance, but I saw the old wound flicker in his eyes. He squeezed my fingers in return. “What about your parents?”

A shadow crossed my face. “My dad died when I was little. I barely remember him. My mom worked two jobs just to keep us afloat, and my brother. He basically became Dad. Except he was a total hard-ass about it.” I tried to laugh, but it came out brittle.

Alistair shifted closer, tucking me against his side. “That sounds lonely.”

“It was. Sometimes I still feel like that lost little girl.” The words surprised me, hanging raw between us.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, holding me tight. “Not anymore. Not with me.”

We paused for a moment while I admired his angel eyes. They smiled at me before hovering over the peaks of my breasts, then gazing at my abdomen. “Vera, sex with you isn’t about making a child. It’s about being close to the woman I love. These scars you bear are the scars I wear,” he said, lowering his lips on each faint wound mark.

“Your scars are mine too. Scotty?”

“Hmm?” Alistair gave me a lazy smile.

“We may not have to worry about having children.”

“Vera, I’m very sorry about the things I said in New York. I’d take those words back if I could. I would do anything for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Children or no children, money or no money, for all you know, the world may turn upside down. Whatever comes our way, I know one thing for sure. I want a life with you.”

“The world is upside down.” I sighed, stroking his beautiful curls.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve had women come and go in my life, and I’ve never needed a woman before. But I think we both know I need you more than you need me.”

“I believe you’re right, Mister Scott,” I hummed, stroking Alistair’s chin softly before harsh reality kicked in. “I forgot to ask you something last night. When was your last sexual health check?”

Alistair sighed and closed his eyes. “After what happened with Erin, I’ve been careful. But I’ll make it a priority to get checked for you,” he promised, opening his brilliant green eyes.

“Thank you. I’m not immune to sexually transmitted infections.”

Alistair nodded, and his hand tightened on mine. I ran my finger along his back, tracing the eagle and the scar with my fingers, ever so curious about his story. He flinched, then removed my hand.

“Vera,” he murmured, planting a kiss on my scarred earlobe. “I would die for you.”

Vera

Monday evening, May 1

My phone buzzed with a message from Alistair.

“Hey, sexy. How are you?”

“Ah, I needed to hear your voice. You must be thrilled about the news.”

“Ah, yeah, can you believe I’m going to be an aunt?” I boasted, grinning from ear to ear. “Saph and Jules are having a baby in December, and I’m super excited. I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

The phone line seemed to have dropped out after a few seconds of silence.

“Alistair, are you still there?”

“I’m still here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m low. Not broken, but low.”

“Why?”

“Oliver and I were close as kids. These days we barely talk⁠—”

“Which is understandable,” I jumped in without thinking. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, that’s fine. I deserve the punches. I tell you who I don’t deserve. I don’t deserve you.”

The silence stretched, heavy enough to crush me. For a breath, I was sure Alistair was about to end things between us. Then his voice cut through.

“My daughter’s name is Camilla. She was born just before Christmas. A little over six pounds of perfection. She’s an angel.”

“How are you feeling about Camilla?” I asked gently.

“It’s bittersweet,” Alistair admitted. “I’m happy for Oliver and Erin, but I can’t shake the guilt. Or the sadness over how it all happened.”

I clutched the phone tighter, the silence on his end stretching too long. “Do you need me?”

“Always.”

“Scotty, listen to me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, choosing each word with care. “That little girl may or may not ever know the truth about you being her father. But she’ll grow up loved by a man who finally has the chance to be one. That’s the gift you gave Oliver. Focus on that. If you keep feeding the guilt, it’ll eat you alive. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he answered.

“I know you,” I pressed. “You’ll let it consume you if you don’t learn to let go.”

“Mm-hmm.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Scotty, are you fidgeting right now?”

His low laugh rolled through the line, warm and rough. “Can you read minds, sweetheart?”

“As good as it gets. I’m the goddess of badass fuckery, remember?”

“You are, indeed.”

“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Focus on your trip to Hong Kong tomorrow. Jason Zhou’s the world’s casino king, right? If you land him as a client, your real estate game changes. That deal could open doors you haven’t even imagined yet.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to figure out the best way forward. Days like this make me wish Nick were still alive.”

“Nick?”

“My ex-brother-in-law. Nick Quinn’s presumed dead. No body, just an explosion on his boat years ago.”

“You think Saira did it? I mean, to kill her own brother?”

“There’s no proof, but she despised him.” Alistair sighed. “Nick and I had plans to bring our companies closer. More than just a strategic alliance, but a JV. Scott-Quinn Enterprise. He was a real estate guru and finance wizard. I need to get back to reviewing the proposal.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Yep,” Alistair murmured. I pictured him running his fingers through his hair. “I’m leaving on a flight at nine in the morning. Will you ride with me to the airport?”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“I know. If my driver picks you up at six-thirty, he can drive you to work after dropping me at the airport. You’ll be at work by eight.”

“So, you’re after my company now?” I teased, admiring his impulsive streak.

“I need you more than anyone else.”

Tuesday morning, May 2

His hand.

His warm hand.

His warm hand on mine.

His.

The limousine ride to the airport unfolded in silence, heavy but steady, like a symphony scored in minor keys. I breathed in Alistair’s cologne, layered over the faint smoke of polished leather. He looked devastatingly composed in a dark-gray suit and crisp white shirt, his tie knotted with precision. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The quiet wrapped around me like a balm, more soothing than any hollow reassurance. His hand held mine, firm and grounding, while his other foot tapped an impatient rhythm against the floor.

I turned to the window, the morning sun spilling over the skyline in fractured bands of color. When I looked back, Alistair’s fierce green eyes were locked on me, shadowed by a hard frown. His hand tightened around mine, the silent squeeze saying more than words could.

“Vera, have you ever been in love?”

“No,” I confessed.

“I told you I loved Erin once.”

“I remember.”

“I wouldn’t be with you if I had married her. It’s possible to fall in love again. To experience a deeper love.”

I nodded.

“Do you believe in second chances?” he asked.

“I believe we deserve a second shot at love,” I answered. “If we keep gazing at the past, we trip over and fall. We may not see our future, or it may pass by, like a train zooming past. We keep on moving wherever life takes us.”

“Yet, you’ve never been in love.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’ve said it to you before, and I’ll say it again. I love you,” he proclaimed.

“Alistair—”

“Damn it, woman. I love you. Luke, take the next exit off the highway and stop the car,” Alistair ordered his driver.

A minute later, we stood at a parking lot outside Chicken Delight, a family diner in an industrial area only minutes from the airport. We were under a cheesy, faded billboard of a couple with two kids, a boy and a girl, grinning while holding up chicken drumsticks.

“Scotty, what are we doing?” I asked, folding my arms while kicking the dirt with my work shoes.

“Did you know that mutual attraction only occurs twenty percent of the time? Love even less often.”

“Alistair, I⁠—”

“Do you feel it? Do you feel that energy between us?” Alistair grabbed my hands, cupping them in his large, warm hands.

“Yes, I feel it, and it’s powerful, but saying you love someone is a serious vow.” I frowned, feeling as if I were about to jump off a cliff with him.

“Perhaps you’re too careful.” Alistair’s eyes bore into me.

“I’m protecting my heart.” I tapped my chest.

Alistair took my hand again. He shifted his stance and cleared his throat. “The second time I found love was with you. It’s a deeper and more mature love and doesn’t contain the recklessness of youth. It’s far from perfect, but it’s a genuine relationship. I love you with a felicity I can’t explain. I don’t have expectations or a false image of you because I don’t waste time thinking of qualities to make a relationship perfect.”

I gulped, my heart thumping rapidly. “No man has ever told me he loves me.”

“I love you, Vera. I love you. I hope you see me in the same light.”

“I need to digest all this. I mean, we’re at a parking lot off a highway, and this information is overwhelming.”

“Will you promise me one thing? Will you think of me while I’m away?” Alistair’s gorgeous eyes pleaded with mine.

I nodded and squeezed his hand. “Love isn’t a game, and I want to be true to you.”

“When I’m back, I want us to talk again. Will you do that for me?”

I nodded again, wiping a stray tear from my eye. The emotion was so strong, overloading my brain and body with a depth of feelings that swallowed me up like a tidal wave. When we arrived at the airport, Alistair pulled me into a loving embrace, allowing me to breathe in his familiar aftershave.

“I’ll call you when I’m in Hong Kong,” he promised, caressing my jawline and neck.

“I’ll miss you,” I murmured, placing my lips on his cheek, then his sensual mouth, which tasted minty fresh and felt invitingly warm.

“Vera,” he whispered in between kisses, “You’re the love of my life.”

Our eyes connected with fierce intensity before our lips locked. Breaking free from the kiss, Alistair cupped my face with his strong hands while his emerald gaze drilled into mine.

Then, just then, my small voice spoke three big words.

“I love you.”

For a heartbeat, Alistair just stared at me, stunned. Then his whole face broke open, joy lighting every line. He caught me up in his arms, laughter tumbling out of him. I shrieked, breathless, as he pulled me close, kissing me hard.

“Say it again,” he whispered, voice rough with happiness, his forehead pressed to mine.

“I love you,” I said, grinning against his mouth.

He let out a shaky breath, eyes shining. “God, I love you, too. You have no idea.”

Vera

Calligraphy café, Friday evening, June 16

“Is this for me?” I stared at the beautiful teal blouse I unwrapped.

Saph nodded, eyeing the garment while tapping lightly on the coffee table.

“Aww, you shouldn’t have,” I said, admiring the gift.

“I saw it at a shop, and I thought of you,” she replied with a smile.

“I’ll wear it on my next date.”

“Are you dating again?”

“You betcha.” I grinned. “He’s back in town after an exhausting work trip in Asia.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve gotten your mojo back,” she said. “Who is he? Is it serious?”

“Time will tell.” I wanted to spill my heart out, but Saph and Julian had enough on their plate with their baby plans and her morning sickness. What was I supposed to say?

Hey Saph, I’m sleeping with Alistair Scott. You know, your worst enemy Saira Quinn’s ex-husband. The one who shares a kid with her.

Yeah, that’ll go down well like a lead balloon.

I’d tell them about Alistair eventually—when the timing wasn’t this fragile, when the boat we were all barely keeping afloat didn’t feel one push away from capsizing.

“Julian should be finished with work and joining us soon,” I said, glancing around the café for a third chair.

Saph nodded, then leaned toward the woman at the next table. “Hi, are you using this chair? If not, could I borrow it? We’ve got someone joining us.”

The woman gave her a cold stare. “This chair is taken.”

“Yeah, right, taken by her Prada bag.” My eyes narrowed at the bag on the chair. Changing the subject, I turned to Saph. “For the love of God, don’t tell Julian I’m dating again.”

“Why not?”

“He may be sweet around you, but he’s an ogre when it comes to my love life. Did he ever tell you he made his own ‘Ten Commandments of Dating’ for me when I was in high school?”

“Oh, my gosh. No way.”

“Yes way. I’m not delving into the details, but he ruined my dating life back then.”

“He cares for you, Vee. Remember Ace?”

I winced, remembering how Saph stood in the firing line, rescuing me from the abuse, and called Jules to deal with Ace. If it weren’t for Saph, I’d have more scars than the one on my ear. “Thank you,” I said, touching her hand. “You’re the sister I never had.”

“I’m glad we met.” Saph’s eyes beamed.

“Likewise.” I smiled. My eyes darted to the gluten-free jam doughnut on Saph’s plate. My kale salad tasted…well, bland.

“Do you want some? Here, try it.” Saph offered a chunk of her doughnut.

I took the piece, stuffed it in my mouth, and enjoyed the sweetness of the treat. Saph removed her scarf to adjust her blouse, revealing love bites all over her neck.

Shit, those hickeys are ugly.

I raised my eyebrows at her ravaged neck and tipped, “You’d better put your scarf back on, hon.”

“Is it bad?” Saph grimaced.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, it looks like you’ve been mauled by a beast. Tell Jules to be a little more discreet with his kisses.”

“Did I hear my name?” Julian’s deep voice asked.

“Hiya. You need to find a chair,” I said.

Julian kissed the love of his life, then glanced at the woman with the Prada bag. “Hey, is this chair taken?” he asked.

Miss Prada turned to him, eyes wide open, and immediately removed her bag from the chair. “Take it. It’s yours,” she offered with a sickly sweet smile.

Sapphire wrinkled her nose. “Hey, you said it was taken a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, did I? It was a misunderstanding,” the Prada woman replied, feigning innocence in front of Julian.

Moments later, when he was in the restroom, I noticed Saph glare at Miss Prada. “Don’t get into the mud and wrestle with a pig. Trust me, you’ll be the only one not enjoying the mud,” I advised, stroking her arm.

“I know. You’re right.” she peeled her stare from the woman. If crossed, Saph could hold a mean grudge. We were similar in that respect. “Vee, I’m going to chat with one of the staff. Rosie’s a friend of mine. I’ll be back,” she said, getting up.

My phone buzzed.

I grinned, then replied to Alistair’s text.

“Playing Snake on your phone?” Julian’s voice boomed as his tall shadow hovered over me.

“Shit. Didn’t Mom tell you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” I swatted his arm after putting my phone away.

“I’m right, aren’t I? I bet it was the classic.” Jules showed off his village idiot grin when Saph returned.

Turning to Saph, I announced, “Hey, I’ve got to go. You two lovebirds have some fun tonight.” I got up from my seat, took Saph’s gift, and swung my handbag over my shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re dating again,” Saph whispered into my ear as we hugged each other farewell. “Promise me, you’ll spill who he is.”