Chapter 11

Wanting to take advantage of the beautiful spring day, I decide to take a walk through the neighborhood with my security detail trailing discreetly behind me. The sun is warm but not overbearing, a gentle breeze rustles through the budding trees, and the clear blue sky stretches endlessly above—it’s the kind of day that breathes life into the city after a long winter. I find myself soaking in every moment, pretending, if only for a while, that I’m just another free soul out enjoying the day.

As I walk, my thoughts inevitably drift to the time I’ve been married to Luk. It’s been a whirlwind of social functions and gatherings, each one a stage for me to play the role of the charming wife. Initially, the idea of being thrust into such a role made me bristle—being paraded around as some trophy didn’t sit well with me. Yet, as I reflect on those experiences, I’m surprised to find that I kind of liked them.

Navigating these social waters is an art, a subtle dance of words and smiles, and I’ve found myself enjoying the challenge. The recognition and respect—even if some of it is borrowed from Luk’s stature—have their own allure.

It’s a far cry from where I thought I’d find happiness, but as I continue my walk, surrounded by the beauty of spring and the quiet presence of my security, I can’t help but wonder if maybe this life with Luk could become more than just a role to play. Maybe it’s a life I can learn to love, complexities and all.

My thoughts turn to a different set of memories, ones that cause my cheeks to color with warmth. The times Luk and I have shared in the privacy of our bedroom come to mind, each moment a vivid flash of intense passion, lust, and deep connection. There’s an ease to losing myself in him, a profound surrender that I’ve never experienced before.

My independence has always been a cornerstone of my identity, yet there’s something undeniably freeing about letting go, being vulnerable, and trusting him completely in our most intimate moments.

I think about our encounters and the playful exploration of each other’s desires, and a shiver runs down my spine. It’s a side of me I hadn’t fully acknowledged until Luk, a depth of feeling and a capacity for passion that he’s skillfully and gently coaxed to the surface. The way he respects my boundaries while simultaneously pushing them has opened a world of sensation I hadn’t known I was missing.

I find myself biting my lower lip, a subconscious reaction as I replay those moments in my mind. The streets around me fade into the background as the memory of our closeness engulfs me, the heat between us, and the undeniable bond that is forming with each whispered word and shared breath.

Feeling overwhelmed and needing an escape from the tempest inside, I spontaneously decide to duck into a nearby florist. The moment I step through the door, the sights and smells of the shop envelop me like a comforting embrace. The fragrance of fresh flowers, the vibrant colors of blossoms in every hue imaginable—they all work together to soothe my frazzled nerves.

As I wander through the aisles, admiring the arrangements and the simple beauty of nature captured within the shop, my thoughts drift to what Elena said about the garden. I recall our conversations, her passion for the flowers, and how she’s found peace and solace among nature. Surrounded by the floral scents and the quiet hum of the shop, I suddenly understand what she meant.

While enjoying my moment of tranquility, I am abruptly interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Excuse me,” she says. I look up, my eyes landing on a gorgeous, slender blonde with striking Slavic features. She is dressed in designer clothes from head to toe. There’s an air of sophistication about her, yet something in her demeanor suggests a familiarity that’s out of place in this setting. I inhale subtly and detect the faintest hint of champagne on her breath.

“Hi there. My name is Laurel,” she introduces herself, her voice smooth and confident.

At the mention of her name, a gasp escapes me involuntarily. Laurel. The name resonates with a significance I wish I didn’t recognize. She is Luk’s ex-fiancé, the woman whose shadow has loomed—unspoken but ever-present—in the background of my new life.

Sensing my shock, Laurel offers a smile that’s meant to be reassuring but comes across as menacing. “I know what you must be thinking,” she begins, her tone attempting to convey sincerity. “But I’m here for a good reason: to warn you about Luk.”

“Warn me? About Luk?” I manage to reply, my voice betraying curiosity and apprehension. “What could you possibly have to say that I want to hear?”

Laurel holds my gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “Oh, darling, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” she says, her voice condescending yet vindictive.

I’m torn between the urge to dismiss her outright and tell her to leave me alone and the suspicion that there’s a depth to Luk I’ve yet to uncover nags at me fully. The line between loyalty and fear of the unknown is a precarious edge to walk.

Glancing over my shoulder, I note my bodyguards stationed outside. Their gazes diligently scan the street, oblivious to what’s happening in the store. Because I have a momentary sense of privacy, I press Laurel for answers.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand, my voice low.

Laurel’s response is a faint grin that makes my skin crawl. “Oh, Maura, I’m talking about Luk’s… let’s call them less conventional tastes in the bedroom,” she says, her tone dripping with insinuation. “Surely, you know what I mean.”

The implication hits me like a physical blow, leaving me at a loss for words. It’s not just the accusation itself but the casual cruelty with which she delivers it, as if she’s enjoying this, reveling in the discomfort she’s causing.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Whatever Luk and I share is our business, not yours. We’re fine,” I assert, but the words feel hollow, even to my own ears. Laurel’s smirk only widens at my response, as if she’s scored a point in a game only she’s playing.

Sensing the crack in my façade she leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, Maura, you really have no idea, do you? Luk’s tastes can get much darker, much more dangerous than you might be prepared for,” she says, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that’s meant to unnerve me.

I want to dismiss her words, to tell her she’s wrong, but doubt takes root in the back of my mind, growing with each syllable she speaks.

“I’m telling you this for your own good,” Laurel continues, her tone softening slightly, but the underlying message is clear. “I know I’ll never be with Luk again, but you need to be careful, to be on your toes. It can get nasty.”

Before I can respond, Laurel straightens up, offering me a tight smile.

“Anyway, good luck, Maura,” she says, her voice laced with a finality that sends a chill down my spine. With that, she turns on her heel and leaves.

I’m left reeling from the encounter. I went into the flower shop to seek quiet refuge, but what I got instead was an experience that left me unsettled.

In a rush to forget what has just happened, I quickly select a bouquet—lush peonies in soft pinks and whites intertwined with sprigs of eucalyptus and baby’s breath—creating a delicate yet striking arrangement. Their beauty offers a brief distraction, but it’s not enough to shake the uneasiness Laurel’s words have inspired in me.

I hurry outside, barely making eye contact with the guards, as I tell them I want to go home. The walk seems endless as I replay the conversation with Laurel in my mind. Doubt and confusion churn within me, tainting my memories of moments with Luk. By the time we get back to the mansion, my thoughts are a tangled mess, and I’m desperate for solitude.

I retreat to my personal bedroom, seeking a quiet space to collect my thoughts and calm the turmoil inside me. However, the sight that greets me when I get there only deepens my confusion. On the bed lies a gift box, elegantly wrapped and unmistakably from Luk.

I approach and lift the lid. Inside, resting against a plush velvet lining, is a delicate lace collar accompanied by two equally delicate nipple clamps. The items are undeniably beautiful and crafted with care, yet the implications of the gift send a rush of heat to my cheeks.

I’m simultaneously intrigued and overwhelmed with a sense of shame—not because of the nature of the gift itself, but because I’m wondering what Luk will want me to do to thank him.