They linger on me for what feels like forever, and I stand unmoving, watching him analyze me.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until after he disappears, and all the air in my lungs leaves me fully.
By the time I figure out where the dining room is, I’m still a little bit rattled.
A faint murmur of cutlery and movement guides me toward a large open doorway, and when I step inside, the scent of fresh coffee and buttered toast fills the air.
And then I see him.
My husband sits at a large dining table, his broad shoulders relaxed as he looks down at his phone and sips his coffee, his biceps flexing deliciously when he brings the cup to his mouth. The mouth that licked my pussy like it was starved.
Jesus, Victoria. Get a fucking hold of yourself.
But the sight of him sends heat curling through my core—until he finally glances up, and his golden eyes lock onto mine.
“It’s Sunday. Ever heard of sleeping in?” I say.
Approaching the table, I drag a chair out for myself and take a seat. Almost immediately, another housekeeper brings coffee, placing it in front of me.
“Thank you.”
I wait, watching my husband, expecting some kind of sarcastic or arrogant remark, as always.
But Wolfgang says nothing.
The warmth in my chest falters, and nerves swarm in my belly, but I push past the feeling. Maybe he just didn’t hear me. Leaving out a sigh, I pour milk into my coffee and stir.
“I guess you’re not a morning person after all.”
Still, nothing.
I put my teaspoon down and look at him, the realization slowly dawning on me, twisting my insides and making my stomach churn with unease.
He heard me alright. He’s just choosing to ignore me.
“I’m talking to you,” I snap.
“And I’m trying to enjoy the only spare moment of my day in silence. What can I do for you, Victoria?”
What can he… what can hedofor me?
The question slaps me in the face like a big ‘fuck you,’ showing me just how little he cares about what happened between us.
My throat swells with pain, but I swallow it back down, hellbent on not letting him see through me.
“Ah, I get it,” I say, keeping my tone amused. “You’re one ofthosemen—the kind who go all ghost mode the morning after. Not very original.”
“We fucked, Victoria. Did you expect me to fall in love with you?”
“Did you expect me to care if you did?”
He gulps the rest of his coffee. “Oh, believe me, love, when it comes to you, I have no expectations. Now, let’s not make this awkward. Eat your breakfast quietly or find somewhere else to be.”
I blink, truly taken aback by his change of attitude. He used to mock me, tease me, banter with me. But he was never mean to me. Not even when I stabbed him.
Maybe this has been his plan all along. To get my guard down around him… then treat me like shit, just so he can break another thing in me.
And if that’s true, I fell right into his trap like a goddamn idiot.
