Chapter 3 - Cohen

I’m losing my patience.

I grip the steering wheel of my Aston Martin so tightly that the leather groans under the pressure of my white-knuckled grip. My jaw is clenched so hard my teeth ache, every breath I take shallow and labored, like there's a wildfire smoldering under my skin. It’s beginning to burn out of control.

Control.

I scoff. The word does little to settle the storm raging inside me.

That bastard touched her with his eyes.

He dared to let his disgusting gaze rake over her body.

If it weren’t for the boutique’s staff swarming the place like flies, I would have zero hesitation about tearing Emmitt Caldwell’s smug face apart, inch by inch, with my bare hands. I can still see it—the glint in his eyes when he looked at her, the way his lips curled in that self-satisfied smirk. It took everything within me to hold back, to play the part of stepfather. To keep my fury in check.

But right now? As I picture his face again, it takes a superhuman level of restraint not to turn the car around and hunt him down.

Why should I let him live? He’s nothing. He’s in my way, and nothing will get in my way of having Emerald.

My rage churns and digs its claws in deep. Today, I slipped, and I never slip. I reached for her. Publicly. Carelessly. And for what? Fucking jealousy . A fucking need . But more than that? Emmitt pushed me to my breaking point. He looked at her like he wanted to steal her from me.

The type of man he is, I know exactly what kind of poison was seeping through his thoughts when he looked at her like that. And the idea that someone so mediocre could even think about her that way, that something so beautifully fragile could ever be tainted by filth like him, is unacceptable.

I flick my gaze out of the windshield, watching Emerald get out of the back seat of her mother’s new Range Rover, her driver Anthony pulling off to park the car. She climbs the grand stone steps of the house we share, the house where I should already fucking have her. Where she spends her nights far too many doors away from me, in her perfectly polished cage, unaware of how close I’ve come to snapping every day that I wait.

I want to kill Emmitt for daring to keep even a memory of her when she belongs to me .

I’m not sure I can let it go.

I swallow back the bloodlust rising in my veins, forcing myself to think. Insomnia has been my constant companion since I was seven, since the night I learned that sleep meant vulnerability and vulnerability meant death. But I've made those endless dark hours work for me, turned them into weapons in my arsenal. While others sleep, I plan. I watch. I prepare. These sleepless nights have given me everything I have—my reputation, my power, my ability to protect what's mine. And now they've given me her.

His time will come. The problem with a man like Emmitt? He thinks he’s untouchable. And that’s going to be his downfall— believing that someone hasn’t already marked him for disposal. I’ll be patient, methodical, the way I always am. One foolish slip could ruin everything.

And I won’t let that happen. Not when I’m so. Damn. Close.

Emerald’s new Range Rover pulls into the spot beside me. Anthony gets out without noticing I’m sitting here behind pitch black tinted windows getting my shit together before I enter the seventh circle of Hell and have to face my wife. My lip curls at my wife’s ‘gift’ for Emerald. Perfect, shining, obnoxious. It’s like everything else in this place.

A gift Emerald doesn’t even know how to drive.

Fucking Madeline. Even her name makes me want to throw something. The woman who brought me into this house, who paved the path to Emerald, but who now is nothing more than a particularly bothersome mosquito buzzing around my ear.

And speaking of the woman…

My wife is waiting in the foyer when I finally go inside, her arms folded across her chest, the picture of poised elegance wrapped in an icy veneer. There’s a sharp smile tugging at her lips, but I’d have to be blind not to see the irritation right there under her skin. She’s an expert at hiding her emotions. Unfortunately for her, I pay too much attention.

“Hello, Darling,” she says, her voice dripping with saccharine venom. “Doing a little shopping that couldn’t wait? Did I miss something? Or are we just ignoring lunch plans now?” Her gaze flicks toward the bag still swinging from Emerald’s wrist as she hands it off to her mother without a word, her eyes downcast.

“We’re running behind on the afternoon shoot now,” Madeline adds, her irritation barely concealed. “You both know how I feel about punctuality.”

Emerald doesn’t even notice me standing just inside the doorway as she quickly murmurs an apology and then disappears up the winding staircase toward her bedroom to avoid her mother’s wrath. I can barely resist the instinct to follow her with my eyes, to track her every step, but I hold myself back. I wait until I hear the softest click of her door shutting upstairs before I turn my attention back to my wife.

Madeline hates being late, and she’s absolutely right. I do know it. And the fact that I've thrown off her meticulously planned schedule today brings me a perverse sort of satisfaction. Just another reminder that she may think she is, but in reality, she's not in control here—not of me, and soon not of Emerald.

This woman is always playing games. Watching. Plotting her moves, expecting me to follow her every word like gospel. I’ve allowed it to this point as it’s gotten me here, right where I need to be. But she’ll soon learn the man she’s shared her house with for the last year isn’t even close to who I really am.

Madeline pats herself on the back every time she imagines her strings pulling me along, bending me to her will. If only she knew that the strings were never hers to pull.

Her eyes narrow a fraction more when I remain silent. I fold my hands in front of me, lean casually against the wall, and let one corner of my mouth lift with a smile I don’t mean. “Do you need something, Madeline?”

She tilts her head to the side, studying me with eyes that look all too much like her daughters’, except cold, practical. Calculating. The green in them reminds me of the icy ferns that coat the floor of the forest in our backyard. They’re nothing like Emerald’s warm summer grass green.

“Did you run into anyone while you were out?” It’s as if she’s asking about the weather, but that almost bored tone can’t fool me. She already knows about my run-in with Emmitt at the boutique.

I shrug, as though her question is too dull to consider. “Like whom?”

Her eyes narrow only slightly, but she covers it well, casting a glance toward the ceiling in Emerald’s general direction. “Emmitt was in town. Meeting with our suppliers. He mentioned seeing you. I thought maybe the two of you had a chance to talk.”

A smirk begins to tug at the corner of my lips, and I quash it. She thinks she’s so clever. What does she think I’ll tell her? That I essentially staked a public claim on her daughter in front of one of her business partners?

Does she imagine Emmitt would have been brave enough to tell her about all the details of today? She thinks she has her little pet doing her bidding, spying and reporting back all the details. I doubt he told her that the moment between him and Emerald could have cost him his life.

That he almost died today for looking at the wrong girl. My girl.

He might have the audacity to eye fuck my stepdaughter, but he’s not stupid enough to return to Madeline without removing any trace of evidence of his misstep.

Or maybe he really is that stupid. Either way, I’ll deal with him soon enough.

“We exchanged pleasantries,” I say, sounding as bored as I feel, pushing away from the wall to close the distance between us. “It wasn’t exactly the time or place for deep conversation.”

Madeline raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased with herself, her power. She thinks her success is in prying information from me when, all along, I’ve been withholding far more than she will ever understand.

“Well, be careful.” Her voice softens, dropping into that fake sweet tone, something close to an order creeping through, though none of Madeline’s orders work on me. Or maybe it’s a warning. “He likes to play with his food.”

A laugh almost escapes me. She’s warning me about Emmitt ? The mid-at-best businessman hanging around begging for a scrap of her attention when the real danger is me? I’ve been the only one she’s ever needed to watch out for. But like every other idiot, she’s been too wrapped up in her ambition and self-obsession to see the truth hiding in her own home.

I cover a grin with another shrug. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Just as I’m about to make an excuse to get the hell out of here, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out, glancing at the screen, and I suck in a sharp breath when I see what popped up—a notification from the app. The one I’ve been using to track Emerald’s cycle.

Ovulation window begins today.

A dark surge of arousal and satisfaction rush through me that I can barely contain. I refuse to let Madeline see even a hint of emotion on my face, but I have to dig my nails into my palm to keep from reacting.

Emerald’s ready—her body is ready for me. For what I have planned.

For our child.

Perfect timing, right when everything else is falling into place. I slide the phone back into my pocket, biting back the urge to let the smirk spread across my face in front of Madeline.

“Something important?” she asks, focused on me like if she glares hard enough, she can rip the information straight out of my brain. She’s always prying. Always trying to find leverage, even when she’s clueless.

“Business,” I say, already stepping back. Before she can respond, I retreat quickly down the hallway, heading toward my office. The excuse couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve got a mountain of work, but my preoccupation with Emerald has taken priority, so I need to play catch up.

The click of the lock behind me is a small relief. I let out a slow breath, my mind still buzzing with that notification. With what I plan to do tonight.

I lean back against the door for a second, letting out a long exhale as I finally let go of the tension that's been gripping me since I left that damn boutique.

Paying off the household staff to report on Emerald’s cycle had been one of my better moves. Discreet inquiries, generous payouts—ensuring that I’d always know exactly when her body was primed and ready. Each update fed into my app, allowing me to keep meticulous track. All that planning, all that patience, and now it’s finally paying off.

There are no prying eyes here in my office. No interruptions while I finalize my plans. I’m careful to scan for recording devices and cameras every time I step foot in here, and this time is no exception. I wouldn’t put it past Madeline to plant them and spy on me, but this is my sanctuary. I may allow her to think she’s in control of many aspects of my life, but this isn’t one of them.

After the scan comes up clear, I pour myself a drink and move to the window, watching as Madeline’s lackeys set up her precious photoshoot on our snow-covered lawn.

I do a quick scan for Emerald, but she’s not outside yet.

For now, maybe I can have a minute to gather my thoughts.

I sink into my chair, resolving to get some work done, but it’s not long before my mind is drifting toward my pretty little stepdaughter again.

Toward what I plan to do tonight to tie her to me forever.

It’s not hard to picture her in my bed, her dark hair tangled on my pillow. Or round and growing our children. Looking up at me with those wide, innocent eyes of hers like I’m the sun her world spins around.

Emerald’s face flashes in my mind: standing in the boutique earlier today, unaware—far too unaware — of how easily she could have been tainted. The way she fidgeted with the sleeve of her tight sweater dress, biting on her lip as Emmitt’s gaze crawled all over her. Emmitt is an idiot, but he’s not oblivious. He knows how special she is. How pure.

She’s a beacon drawing all the monsters toward her.

I’m the worst monster of them all.

This thing between us… it’s inevitable. The gift I’m giving both of us this Christmas. And despite every shred of self-control I’ve cultivated over my lifetime, it's slipping. The need to possess her feels dangerous in a way nothing else ever has. It’s getting out of hand, building every single day, and the patience I’ve always relied on—my weapon, my shield—is fraying, stretched impossibly thin.

Tonight, I’m going to let the thread snap and take what’s always belonged to me.

I reach for the glass of bourbon in front of me. The liquid burns its way down my throat as I finish the entire glass in one go, trying to rein in all the thoughts surging through me. The craving for her.

I’ve spent more than a year playing the long game. Watching. Waiting. Building the groundwork brick by fucking brick. Each detail, each maneuver crafted to form a perfect existence where she belongs to me .

I can’t wait any longer. Waiting was for before. Before her eyes started lingering on me a little too long, before the blush that stains her cheeks every time our eyes connect across the dinner table, before she started letting me in.

Before I knew her body was fertile and ready for everything I have to give her.

It’s time to nudge things along.

By Christmas, she’ll officially be mine.

With any luck, she’ll be pregnant by then, too.

I need to get closer to her, to make her feel me in her space, in her dreams, to make sure she understands that I’m the only one who sees her. Who wants her for who she really is. Who’ll let her be who she really is.

Madeline thinks she’s got me on a short leash, but she doesn’t understand what’s brewing between Emerald and me. She can’t, because she doesn’t have a heart. A soul.

Emerald is the other half of mine.

I use one of the keys I wear on a chain around my neck to unlock the drawer in my desk, checking the pill bottle inside, shaking the tiny square peach-colored pills inside. I pop the lid off and shake out two, slipping them into my pocket before replacing the bottle and locking the drawer back up.

Tonight, I’ll go to her. Sneak out of my room and into hers. My cock is pulsing, harder than it’s ever been, just thinking of what I’m about to do. I’ll be careful, just as I always am, but this is going to happen. It needs to happen.

Nothing will stop me.

I’ll give her all of me, and I’ll take all of her. I’ll get her body used to mine so when she’s awake, she craves me but doesn’t understand why.

This is what she needs. It’s what we both need. I’ve waited long enough, played along with Madeline’s rules for far too long. It’s time for Emerald to see that I’m the only person she needs in this life. The only one who’s really here for her.

I set the empty glass back on my desk, a slow smile spreading across my face as I swivel in my chair to look back outside. I spin my wedding ring around my finger and watch as Emerald stands beside her mother in the middle of a small crowd of stylists, assistants, makeup artists, and the photographer.

But all I see is her. Her light is so blinding, everyone else blinks out of existence.

Tonight is only the beginning.

Tonight, the boundary between us will shatter.

And when that happens, there will be no turning back.

We belong to each other.

I know what needs to be done, and there isn’t one goddamn thing that will stop me from taking the first step tonight.

Let the world try to intervene. Let Madeline think she knows everything that happens under her roof.

By the time Emerald begins to understand, it’ll be too late.

Her and me?

We’re inescapable.