8.Arcade

Bright light filters through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Next to me Belle is stirring, her hair tangling with mine, her hip brushing against mine and a smile curves my mouth. For the first time in my life, do I feel truly happy. Content. I reach out, gently stroking her face, tracing the line of her jaw. Her eyes flutter open to meet mine.

"Morning," I whisper, leaning in to kiss her lips. They're soft and warm from last night, and she kisses me back, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Last night was…," I rasp, my voice raw and it breaks from emotion and I shake my head in bewilderment. "I've never felt anything like it."

Her smile widens for a moment, and she soaks in my words, her eyes shining. But then, a shadow falls over her face, and she sits up, pulling away from me to sit on the edge of the bed. Tension spreads across her shoulders, her body turning rigid.

"Beauty," I rasp, moving closer, "why did you turn away from me just now?"

I place my hands on her lower back, massaging gently, trying to ease the tension. I trail kisses down her spine, but she remains restless, her body tense under my touch.

"I have a confession to make," she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I freeze, my heart pounding. "I'm listening," I rasp, my voice gravely.

She takes a deep breath, turning slightly to look at me over her shoulder. "I came to the bayou because your uncle hired me," she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. "He wanted me to use my charm and beauty to lure you back to Theron Sons."

The weight of her confession is slow to sink in. I knew something was up, knew that a woman like Belle had to have an agenda. But hearing it from her lips still feels like a punch to the gut. I get up, my movements stiff and mechanical, and start getting dressed. The silence between us is thick and heavy, but Belle's breaths have turned frail.

Guilty.

Fuck, I should've known there would be a price to pay, for her to land in my lap like that.

I walk to the window and stare out at the bayou, my mind racing. Emotions rake through me—anger, betrayal, hurt. She came here to do a job, and she got the job done. Which means she's not going to stay. I know she wants to go back. She feels misplaced out here, just as much as I feel at home.

"Arcade…" Belle begins, pleadingly then quiets as if she knows it's pointless. She knows I'm going to need my time with this.

"Listen," I interrupt, my voice rougher than I intend, "I need to ask you something." Jealousy starts chewing at me and I clench my jaw.

Her voice is a mixture of apprehension and desperation to please and make everything better. "You can ask me anything."

I hesitate, my fists clenching. "Did my uncle ever come on to you?"

He must've. I know what he's like and there's no way, he'd let a girl like Belle slip under his radar. I turn to look at her and don't like what I see.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink, and she averts her gaze. That's all the answer I need, but I force myself to stay calm, to listen. "He did," she admits softly. "But I rejected his advances and he accepted it like a gentleman. There's no bad blood between us."

I feel a surge of extreme jealousy, an aggressive anger that I've never experienced before. The thought of my uncle trying to seduce her makes my blood boil. I grit my teeth, trying to keep my emotions in check. "I have a hard time believing he took it well."

Men like my uncle don't tend to just agree with rejection.

Belle nods, her eyes earnest. "It wasn't like that. I promise."

I take a deep breath, trying to push the jealousy down, but it's not easy. "The thought of you with another man…" I can barely speak properly from anger, "it eats me up from the inside."

Belle shifts and if she touches me right now, I might just explode. But Belle keeps her hands to herself. "You don't need to be jealous," she says softly. "You were my first and I'll always choose you over anybody else."

Her words soothe my raw emotions, but the jealousy still simmers beneath the surface. I turn away from her again and she clears her throat, her voice barely audible when she speaks.

"How do you feel about coming back?" she whispers.

"I'm not going back to the company," I grit out bitterly, not turning to face her. "I'm staying in the bayou. And you're staying with me."

The words hang in the air, final and irrevocable. I hear Belle's sharp intake of breath, but I can't bring myself to look at her. I know that if I do, I'll give in to her every demand and I'm determined not to do that. Nothing is going to tear me away from the life I've built here. And the sooner she accepts it, the better.