Malachi’s pov.Tieran refuses to pick up my calls and i feel my jaw clench at that.He has no right. He has no right to get Antonia furniture when i fully mean to make her suffer without it.He has no right to interfere in my marriage. He’s biting off more than he can chew.The anger in me seems to surge, cresting and falling at different intervals, because i still can’t imagine Tieran is the one doing this. He’s my family.Why would be side an outsider? Antonia disrespects me and as her husband i have the right to punish her how i see fit. He’s only going to make her wilder than she is now, and then what?Why exactly is he determined to cross me on this? The thought occurs to me that maybe Tieran has nothing to do with this but i brush it off. It took me kissing Antonia to prove to him that she’s mine, and since he’s seen there’s nothing he can do about that, he’s decided to do this.Tieran has no hold in the furniture sector of the city though. If he was sending furniture to my hou

I feel silly once i’m done crying.Silly and weak because why should i cry? Why do i cry over a man who has done nothing but give me his fair share of degrading remarks and treated me as nothing but his competent secretary and inadequate wife?“He’s a proper piece of shit.”Bridget’s comment comes out of nowhere, and i have to pause and peer at her through the mirror. My sorrow reduces a bit, just enough for me to look at Bridget and ask with a conspiratorial glint in my eyes, “Are you reading my mind or are you just picking on Malachi because you hate him?”Bridget shrugs, a sly smile spreading on her face as he responds, “I don’t hate him. I hate the way he behaves and treats you. I saw how angry he was yesterday because of that viper he calls his childhood friend.He doesn’t act like he cares for you, and with his threat to not allow you have furniture brought into this room… any woman would feel under appreciated and unloved by that, especially for a man you’ve given so much in yo

Malachi drops me by the side of the road and he drives off. I stand there, looking and feeling like i could explode from the force of the anger running through me.This is so like Malachi. I don’t know why i didn’t envision it happening. He actually told me to get out of the car and now he’s left me at the side of the road. I don’t know what to…“Hey, are you lost?”I turn to see a lady behind me. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers in front of her, and on closer inspection i can see she’s probably a florist. She’s not offering me those roses. In fact, i’m standing in front of her store, and since i’ve been looking around while silently trying to contain my anger, of course she thinks i’m lost.“Do you not speak English?” Okay that sounds rude, but it also feels like she’s just genuinely curious and is trying to figure out if i indeed cannot understand her. Malachi’s actions have left me a bit tongue tied, but not so tongue tied that i won’t respond and keep on making this woman feel d

I don’t know why i was feeling so nervous. The terms of the contract are negotoiable, but they’re already pretty good, good enough that i don’t think there’s anything i can ask for that won’t seem like an overreach on my end.There’s a stable interest rate though, one that makes me shoot a sly look at Tieran because he isn’t joking with his money. He fully intends to make profit off it. Of course, even the interest rate is something he’s termed as negotiable.“You’re taking it easy on me.”Tieran doesn’t try to deny, not argue that fact.I should feel insulted. I’ve read through some of the business deals he signs with Malachi. In fact, i’ve read a lot of business deals various investors have signed with Malachi. The terms are always cut throat. It always involves a fair amount of back and forth before anyone ever comes to suitable business terms.In my case, Tieran has made everything simple. Easy and suitable.He’s taking on most of the risk, and i am grateful for that. I’ll surpris

My father nods and gestures to the table and chairs set out on the rooftop. We’re the only ones here, and as much as i want to ask him about exactly how much power he has to be able to reserve the whole rooftop to himself, i know that isn’t the question i need to ask. I already have a fair estimation of how much power he has.I need to ask questions about what he knows, so i go to the chairs, watch his chair wheel him over until he’s seating beside me, and i set my natural questioning gaze on him. My father dramatically rolls his eyes and looks away as he comments, “You look a lot like your mother when you look at me like that, do you know that?”I shake my head. I didn’t have so many pictures of my mother, but i knew she was conventionally beautiful, didn’t use glasses like me when she was in highschool, had a fair number of boyfriends and men who would flutter around her like butterflies, because she was like a flower. A very beautitul flower they would love to make their own, not t