Married to a powerful businessman feared all-over Portland, Mia Kingston has a reputation to uphold. As the CEO of MK, her own lingerie brand, everyone believes she has everything, including the perfect marriage most women envy.
She's beautiful, s...
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I nearly drop my bag when Patrick rises from the couch. What the fuck! He's like a creep sitting in the dark as though he's been forever waiting for my return—which is probably the case, judging from the inflamed gaze he's gracing me.
"Stop doing that!" I catch my breath and shut the door behind me. Carefully I step in. "Is this a new trend? Waiting in the dark?"
"Answer my fucking question, Mia! Where have you been?" Patrick thunders and his voice is anything but friendly.
Woah! Something's off.
I gaze up at him. His blue linen shirt is unbuttoned, his hair ruffled and unkempt—an evidence of repetitive movements of enraged fingers—and his eyes are blazing with anger that's more clearer through the half bottle of cognac on the table.
He's been drinking.
I drop my purse on the nightstand, my heart pounding faster as my skin can feel the intensity of Patrick's glare on me, and my nose can easily smell him drunk even if he's not closer to me yet, and I think I've never seen him this vexed before.
At least not because of me.
"I don't understand what's wrong with you." I finally open my mouth, guarding my voice as best as I can so I don't sound petrified by his surprise attack. I'm stepping off my heels as I add, "I was working the whole day, and afterwards I went out. It's my usual routine, Patrick. It's Friday!" I glance at him.
My husband doesn't flinch. Does he know something? I'm extremely alarmed now.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you, Mia?" He lowers his voice saying this, taking small nerve-wracking steps toward me.
I hold my head high, staring at him. "It depends on what you're busy trying to pull this time. I'm not in the mood to play mind games with you so why don't you tell me what's the problem with you?" I remark crossly, my inner balance distorted.
No, if he knew I was with Red in his place he'd have burned the whole apartment by now. That's the typical reaction from him, because he hates waiting.
But what if he knows everything and he's been silently waiting to catch me in the act? My brain is trying hard to process this predicament to no avail.
"Mia . . ." Patrick breathes that brandy infested breath of his. Fuck! He's right before me, eyes delved deeply into my soul as though he's bio-scanning my body and mind at once. "You left the office early today and you didn't go back." His calm voice is more frightening than him snapping at me.
He slowly unbuckles his waist belt, and pure menace is all I gather. I shriek inwardly, but my confidence stays unwavering as I keep my eyes on him.
He slides the leather belt and wraps it in around his hand—just a small part of its length, letting the other flail in the air—and I suck in a tight breath at the sight.
