What the actual fucking fuck?

As we anticipated the meeting I completely forgot about while being buried in my wife's pussy, I stared at her, anger simmering through me at the sight of her looking down at her phone, acting like nothing happened.

After Van informed us about our upcoming visitor, she got off the desk, bending over to retrieve her dress from the floor.

I was livid, but I still wanted to fuck her again while she was bent over. I stayed quiet as the two of us got dressed, but the anger I felt only increased after seeing how indifferent she was acting.

Her face, normally riddled with emotions, was completely stoic, pissing me off further.

I know she said 'no feelings'. And, for her, I could do it. But, this was more than just 'no feelings'. At first, when she moved away from my attempt to kiss those lips I spent a concerning amount of time thinking of, it was okay.

Kissing on the mouth was too intimate for people and that was fine.

Then, she did a complete one-eighty from having fun during sex to acting like I was a random guy she decided to fuck in a club. Hell, she was probably nicer to them too.

Fuck. I was getting jealous over a fucking random guy that I just made up. She fucked with my brain too much for it to be considered healthy.

It didn't help that the sex was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing. There was not a single inch of her body that didn't deserve to be utterly worshiped. The little moans she let out when I was in her were addicting.

She was addicting.

I've never been the type of person to get hooked on something. I learned about control from a young age, considering my single mother and humble upbringing. We couldn't afford everything growing up, so I did everything in moderation.

Then, when I reached the legal age for drinking and drugs, I avoided it by saving the money I would've spent on it instead. There were times when I would go out with friends and have a few sips of beer, but I was always in complete control.

When it came to her, I didn't want to do anything in moderation.

Now that I know what she feels like, I wanted to spend every minute of every day buried inside her.

And I knew I could without developing any feelings.

Well, not that I'd tell her, but I was pretty sure I could without developing feelings.

In all honesty, that was the only time I have ever fully enjoyed sex in my life. As infuriating as she was, her presence, personality, and attitude were more addicting than the taste of her. I couldn't recall the last time I laughed so freely in the presence of a woman, other than Van and my mom.

What sucked the most was how I knew for a fact that she was also enjoying it. When she shot me that smile with her head between my thighs, I swear I couldn't breathe for a second.

She was so damn beautiful.

Besides last week when she avoided me, I had a feeling we were becoming... something. Whatever type of relationship you could have where the two parties didn't have any feelings for each other.

Now, I wanted to strangle her.

How could she walk into my office, wearing that, seducing me like the vixen she is, joking with me while we couldn't keep our hands off of each other, only for her to act so stoic?

I felt so used.

Snap out of it. You have a meeting with your biggest competitor.

I needed to stop looking at her. Out of sight, out of mind.

I couldn't afford to think about her or this mess with Laurent on the way.

Speaking of, when Laurent's secretary first reached out to Van to arrange a meeting, neither of us could keep the shock off our faces. I didn't know much about Laurent other than the fact that he was a pain to work with and an overall jackass, the information coming from the few occasions that I've met him and Kimberly, the latter hating his guts.

I was still in the dark about why he decided to call for this meeting, but it didn't change just how curious I was.

Kimberly's mood soured after hearing about his visit, which wouldn't have been an issue if she actually talked to me last week. And, from that sexy scowl gracing her face to her crossed arms, there was no way she was going to peacefully let him sit in the only open chair next to her.

I guess we're moving to the couches.

The gentle knock I've come to know as Savannah's sounded on the door, alerting me of his arrival.

"Come in," I called out, watching as Kimberly's body stiffened at the sound of my voice after a period of silence.

From the fake smile evident on Van's face to the way her eye was twitching, I knew she was doing her very best to not scowl at the CEO of Laurent-Shaw Inc., which was an indicator that he flirted with her to a point beyond comfort.

That's strike one in my book.

Still, I moved around my desk towards the man my wife was currently glaring at. "Mr. Laurent, pleasure to see you again."

He walked to meet me by the table between the two couches, nothing but arrogance clouding his face. "Please, call me Nathan. Mr. Laurent is my father."

Kimberly snorted from her seat. "It's like the Devil asking you to call him Satan."

"Astor," Nathan chided. "Or should I call you Astor-Kingston now? I'd say it's nice to see you again, but I'd be lying."

"Good one." Sarcasm was oozing out of her voice. "You know... I always thought you'd get plastic surgery for the nose. I'm glad you didn't, I like a reminder of my handiwork."

Pride surged through me as the man reached up to touch his nose. Theoretically, he wasn't an ugly man considering how many women he had in his arms each night, but his crooked nose will always be a reminder of the night Kimberly punched him.

I wish I was there.

It happened a couple of years ago and I remember Savannah telling me all about it. Normally, I wasn't interested in the tabloids, but there was something so fucking hilarious about hearing an heiress sock a CEO in the face.

I never processed that I was marrying said heiress until Kimberly told me about the details that night. I should've known then that I was getting myself into a world of trouble.

"For the millionth time," he growled. "I didn't know that was your friend."

"Sure," Kimberly drawled out.

"I thought she was my date." He shrugged. "They look the same from the back."

"As if you'd recognize her from the front."

I had to hold back a snort as I tried diffusing the tension. "Why don't you take a seat?"

"Not necessary. This shouldn't take long," he replied.

Well then. I nodded once. "Okay, what are you here to discuss?"

"Back off from Helios MedTech and you can have Techable." My eyes widened at the demand.

Both Helios MedTech and Techable were huge multi-billion dollar tech companies. While Helios focused on medical technology, Techable was a hardware company. Both were extremely profitable and would be assets to Kingston Industries, but my eyes were on Helios.

Medical technology was a growing field, and Helios was on the verge of a breakthrough that would result in billions of dollars. To back off from acquiring them was a long-term mistake, and sensing the urgency in his tone, Merrill found out about the breakthrough too.

Laurent had his claws in the company first, but we made them an irresistible offer.

Something was suspicious about this entire ordeal. To my knowledge, I was one of the only few people who had information about the company's latest innovation.

How the fuck did he find out?

Kimberly snorted again, basically summarizing my thoughts. "No." I didn't want to nor did I need to explain myself further.

"They were ours first," he attempted to reason. I had to hand it to him. He was very good at hiding the desperation in his voice. If it weren't for the fact that I'd spent most of my life around a stubborn woman who always tried to hide her emotions, I wouldn't have been able to detect it.

I get to deal with two of those now.

Not the time, Jace.

"Oh well." I shrugged. His eyes narrowed and jaw tightened, telling me he knew that I knew about the breakthrough.

From the way he huffed, I had a feeling I wasn't going to like the next statement out of his mouth. I've spent a lot of time around privileged, entitled asses like Laurent. When things didn't go their way, they reacted, which is a nicer way of saying they threw a temper tantrum.

"I would suggest an alliance, but I'm not really the marrying type." I did my best to not react to his words, knowing that he couldn't find out that this alliance was fake. It would jeopardize everything. "But if you ever feel like sharing your wife... Lord knows she's a good fuck."

I didn't even need another second to think about it before my fist made contact with his jaw. Years of working out gave me enough strength and knowledge about how to pack a punch. Laurent's head snapped to the side with an unnatural sound, filling me with a dangerous satisfaction.

I wasn't the type to get violent, but he just stepped out of fucking line.

"You talk about my wife like that and I will not hesitate to break your nose like she did," I growled out, my hands moving to the collar of his shirt. "And trust me, I'll fuck it up so badly, you'll be a mouth-breather for the rest of your life. Now, get the fuck out."

What did the fucker do?

He chuckled. "You know... when my father started saying shit about how this marriage of yours was fake, I believed him. Kim Astor isn't known for settling down. But, I can see now that you two are something else alright. Next time you fuck in the office, don't forget to pick your panties up, Astor. Congrats on the wedding. You're gonna regret putting a finger on me."

With that, he sauntered out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

I stood there for a few minutes, willing myself to calm down. This was just one shit show after another.

"Jace—"

I didn't let her continue as I exited the office, slamming the door behind me too. Savannah just raised her eyebrows at me, but I ignored her too.

The second I got into the elevator, I called Darius. My wife's ex was probably the last person I wanted to talk to, but right now, I needed to.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice bringing back the anger that I just managed to will away.

"Kimberly's in my office. I'm heading out of town. Make sure she gets home safely. If anything happens to her, Vivian's not going to be the only one threatening your balls."

With that, I hung up.

♕♕♕

Three hours later, I was standing outside of my childhood home, waiting for my mom to answer the door. I checked in with the treatment center to make sure she didn't have an appointment before driving over. I didn't tell her that I was coming, but I was her only son.

Who else had the right to show up unexpectedly?

"Caro?" Mom's voice rang out from the other side of the door, before she opened it to reveal herself. "What are you doing here? Is Kim with you?"

"What?" I pulled her into a hug. "I need to bring my wife to see my mom? Am I not enough anymore?"

She slapped my head like she did when I was a kid, but I only laughed, kissing the top of her head. The chemo was thinning her hair, but Ma still didn't want to shave her head. I never asked her why, but I knew my mom.

It was her last tie to any sort of normalcy.

I pulled back, following her inside. "You know I love you, Jace. But, Kimmy's been a really nice phone companion lately."

What?

"Two questions," I replied, perplexed. "First, she lets you call her Kimmy? Second, your phone companion?"

She only laughed, reminding me of the mom I one knew from my childhood. Even though she doesn't like talking about it, the cancer's been very hard on her mentally. Seeing her happy instantly brought my mood back up.

I couldn't stay mad or upset while the strongest woman I knew was joyful.

I followed her into the kitchen, sitting in one of the chairs by the counter. It felt just like high school. Ever since I started college and Mom got cancer, we've had less and less moments like these.

She moved to take leftovers out of the fridge. Like someone else I knew, offering to help would lead to her trying to overdo it, so I stayed silent.

"To answer both questions, she's been calling me pretty often," she replied. "I'd say a few times a week since the day after you two started talking again. It's only been a couple of weeks, but it's really nice. I randomly started calling her Kimmy during the calls and she never stopped me. Why?"

I shrugged. "To my knowledge, the only person she allows to call her Kimmy is Alex."

At the mention of my father, Mom's features softened, a wistful cloud of emotions covering her face as she just hummed.

She didn't like talking about him, at least not more than she had to.

Ever since I was a kid, Mom would keep her emotions hidden from me. If she ever felt like crying, she'd wait until she thought I was asleep before letting her sorrow come out in the privacy of her room.

For the longest time, I didn't know what it was about. Then, after meeting Alex, I understood.

I looked so much like the man she loved to the point it left her broken.

I remember the day we got her diagnosis. For the first time, I saw fear in her normally clear face. That night, she told me that my father was alive and his name was Alexander Kingston.

I didn't believe her.

Imagine waking up one day, finding out your mom—the woman you love more than anything—has cancer and that your father is one of the richest men in America.

Calling up Emre, I stormed out of the house, leaving my guilty mother behind. And, for the first time since I turned twenty-one, I drank.

I prided myself in being a good son. Growing up, I always took care of her, kept my grades up, never stayed out too late, had multiple jobs throughout high school, played football so she wouldn't need to worry about paying for college...

All because I knew that we were all we had.

Then, after over twenty years of struggling, I find out that I have a rich dad. A dad who had a whole other family. A dad who didn't know that he had a son he left behind.

I wanted to blame him for not knowing me. Even after Mom told me that she kept me a secret, I wanted to blame him. I didn't want everything in my life to be a lie. I didn't want to think of my mom as a liar.

Even after Mom made the phone call to him and he rushed over to Philly, I wanted to hate him.

But... I couldn't.

And that pissed me off more.

"You never answered why she isn't here," Mom suddenly commented, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I looked down at the plate of food she placed in front of me. "I didn't feel like asking her to join me."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Jace," she warned in the motherly tone that had you fearing for your life.

I groaned, bringing a forkful of pasta up to my mouth. "Ma, please. I don't want to talk about her right now."

"What happened?" she persisted, her tone taking a gentler approach.

At that moment, I knew I wasn't getting out of this. "She's..." What was she? What word could possibly describe Kimberly Nyla Astor-Kingston? "... something else."

Mom shot me a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You ask too many questions." I took another bite, ignoring her question.

In all honesty, I didn't have an answer. Hell, I didn't even know why I was this mad. We said 'no feelings' and she stuck to the rule. I wasn't expecting her to only stick to the rule at the end, but I've been learning to expect the unexpected when it comes to her.

A hand came up to my head. "I'm your mother, stupid. I'm supposed to ask you all these questions."

I rubbed where her hand just struck but stayed silent. I wasn't exactly in the position to tell her that I was upset because I had two of the best orgasms of my life with my wife and then she turned cold-blooded right after.

Plus, Mom knew nothing about our two-year deal, making this even more complicated to discuss.

This was all fucking with my head so much.

I should really call Dr. Nigam.

"I just... don't get her."

Wow, Jace. You're a bloody wizard with words. An Ivy-League education hard at work.

From the look Ma was giving me, I could tell she was thinking the same thing.

"Jace, I'm going to need more context."

Great. Absolutely fucking perfect. Let me just tell her that her daughter-in-law is an infuriating vixen who drives me absolutely insane because all I can think about is how I would like to do nothing but be in her and with her at all times but being around her gives me whiplash.

I put the fork down. "Every time I think we're moving towards... friendship, something happens and we're back at the starting point. Hell, forget the starting line, we're in the negative."

"I'm assuming neither of you talked to each other about it?" she questioned.

Geez. That would be a perfect suggestion if it weren't for the stupid clause I agreed to.

"She doesn't want to talk about it." That was the closest thing I could say to the truth.

Mom just shrugged. "Yeah, I noticed that about her. We've had quite a few phone calls, but all she ever talks about is her family or my treatment. I swear I know more about her cousin than her."

"Yeah," I replied. "She's pretty close to them."

"I think it goes beyond that," she trailed off. "Do you know if anyone in her family died of cancer?"

Where was this coming from?

"No, why?"

"It's probably nothing," Ma shook her head, "But the way she talks about it... it feels personal."

"She does have the cancer research center," I added. "It's probably because she's surrounded by it."

"Maybe," she mused. "Call it motherly intuition, but I feel a sense of heavy loss or burden from her. She's great at hiding it, but maybe that's why she's so guarded. It could be abandonment or commitment issues... I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud."

I stayed quiet, knowing she was right.

Even though Kimberly put on this confident and head-strong persona, there were many moments of vulnerability that I would've never expected from someone who keeps an alluring smile on her face for most of the day.

My mind drifts to the panic attack I witnessed the day she met my mom, her over-dependence on the necklace around her neck to keep her calm, the words Darius shared in the office the other day, all the warnings from Vivian, Ashton, and Camelia...

Fuck. There's a lot I couldn't figure out about my wife and it pissed me off.

And, getting her to open up was like expecting to get out of quicksand. Purely frustrating.

"I don't care," I snapped.

Who was I kidding?

"Sure you don't," Mom taunted. "But I will say this. I didn't raise a liar. I'm not the best example, but one thing I did right was raising a son who didn't lie to the people around him or to himself."

"I'm not lying," I lied.