"My wife will be there?" I rise up and slam my fist on the table.

"Yes, sir. Your son sent her two invitations; one for her and another for her friend," Emilia, my personal assistant answers from the phone.

I brew a brief laughter. That's my butterfly! What the fuck is she up to now? Thinking of her fucking mysterious ways or rebelling against me usually makes me angry and hard at the same time.

Two months and I haven't laid a finger on her! How does she survive it? Because I can't and I know I'm not gonna last long without her closer. I simply can't keep my dick on the leash. I'm a man.

"Sir?" Emilia snaps. I fix my tie, clearing my throat. "What should I do with that?"

"Let her be," I say dismissively.

She's my wife and the queen of my empire. It's her right to be wherever I am, and at any time she wishes. I think of it proudly because in the end she'll come back to me. I miss her like crazy.

"Okay," Emilia replies in a low voice.

If there's one thing I can never give up in this life, then it's my thirty years of blood and sweat to build the Kingston empire, and having Mia Kingston as my wife. There's nothing I won't do to keep her—to make her return to our home—and give her everything she deserves.

She's the love of my life. Sleeping without her by my side has been hell. A pure torture. Not any other woman can fill the space she's left behind no matter where I look at. I know I have to get her back by hook or by crook. She belongs to me, and me alone, just as my heart is hers.

I should have given her the babies she wanted, maybe she'd be here now.

I shouldn't have fucked other women like I did. And I was so stupid to let her find out about my little affairs. But for fuck's sake, I'm a man and I can't control the urge to dominate the pretty women around me, especially when they effortlessly throw themselves at me.

Yeah, my wife is perfect. She's beautiful, kind-hearted, and sexy as hell. As stubborn as a mule, but I love it all about her. I'd say she's enough but I love sex and she's not always around. I travel a lot, and she's a busy woman to keep me full time company, and maybe that's why I cheated.

But none of those women meant anything to me. Not even close. I love my wife, but there's something animalistic about me and it's more powerful than I am. I want to be a better man for her, but there's always something to hold me back.

"Um, about the penthouse she was looking for," Emilia continues, derailing my train of regretful thoughts. "I think we're one step behind."

I grunt irritated and sit down, dismissing the director of finance who's been spitting bullshit for fifteen minutes now after wasting the eighty-five million dollars on the almost failed power plant project in Kenya.

I'll get back to him later. Useless bastard.

He storms out of my damn office and I get back to Emilia. As much as I keep facing so many mishaps lately, including some grapevine that some secret agency is snooping into my business affairs, my main focus is still to save my marriage with Mia.

I'm terrified of life without her. It's true I messed up a lot, but she's still the one I love. Always. She caught me fucking Elena in this very same chair, and it was regrettable mistake. I might have had some slip-up with my ex-wife once or twice, but I didn't let it repeat again.

And then that fucking afternoon at our own home she caught me with Anne in my study room. Again I was foolish and I hate myself for it. I tried but it's hard for me to avoid having flings for pleasure once in a while. I just can't help it, even if I despise hurting her as I did.

In the end she's my wife and the only one holding the reins of my heart. I just wish she'd understand and try to forgive me for those silly mistakes that I'm so willing to correct. I'm sure we can fix things and get back to our life before any of this, unless she's found someone new.

God forbid. I'll kill whoever tried to set a hand on my beehive.

That woman is mine!

"Sir, are you still there?" Emilia asks.

My brows knit together as I brush off the thought of some bastard touching my butterfly. "I told you to set the meeting with the building owner, have you done it?"

I'm gonna buy it, whatever the cost. If she's gonna live there, then I want to be a part of her life even this way. She'll always stay where I can see her, even if it's only for a while as once her anger simmers, I'll make sure she returns home.

I promise there won't be any more fights over some mistresses and whatnot. I'm trying my best to be sexually sober for her. I haven't fucked around ever since she busted me with her friend and I think I can do it with her around.

And to think that lil' bitch, Anne, set me up on purpose? I grow really angry. She knew Mia was coming back, and like a professional slut she was, she tempted me into a fucking blow job. Stupid me! I should have killed her with my own hands, dammit!

"Um, that won't be necessary, sir. Apparently your wife bought the penthouse, she didn't rent it as we originally thought," Emilia states.

"What?" My whole body tenses.

Of course she can. She's Mia, after all. Damn her 'independent woman' shit!

"Yeah. Even if you buy the rest of the building, I think she'll still be the owner so . . ."

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me sooner?" I bellow.

"I just found out now. She closed the deal immediately after seeing the house, and well, we both thought—"

"Enough! You're all a bunch of useless!" I hang up.

Fuck! It's like the room is too small for me to breathe. I start laughing like a fool because this little woman is really driving me crazier each day.

"Bravo, butterfly. You've won another round," I rumble with another throaty laughter. "But don't be too quick to celebrate, baby, because you can never leave me," I drawl, still pissed off by the fact that she's left our home and even had the audacity to file for a divorce.

The home we shared for almost ten years now! She can't get away.

The telephone on my desk rings again and it's still Emilia on the line. She informs me about the meeting with the Chinese medical guild, which I pass onto Eliot. He may be a little spineless as a man carrying my blood, but he can be quite reliable when dealing with legit deals and negotiations.

Derek with his temper and cold blood, I know exactly where to put him. They're both my sons, but the difference is real between them. In the end I'm just a parent and they're my blood, so it doesn't matter how strong or weak each of them is.

Frankly, I never wanted more kids after the experience of having two boys has been. Sleepless nights, changing stinky diapers and shit, not to mention the intolerable human sirens wailing, incapable of saying what's bloody wrong with them? Fuck, no!  I wanted my wife all to myself.

But now I'm beginning to reconsider.

A little Mia would be great to have around the house. Why the heck didn't I think of this sooner? Maybe if I got her pregnant she wouldn't have thought of leaving me, at least for the sake of our daughter.

"Jackson!" I snap into the phone while getting up. It's past twelve p.m. as I glance at my watch. "Get the car ready."

The call ends and I sprint out of my office. Elena has been calling me nonstop since last night and I wonder what she wants now after screwing things around with Anne's murder. Does that woman ever use her head? I can't remember any time she's ever been useful to me.

Well, aside from giving me two sons, of course. I nearly roll my eyes.

Bastien widens the door of the black Rolls Royce and I sneak in. Let's see what this old woman has to say, because I'm tired of her calls. Obviously she wants money since I told my assistant to freeze her accounts until further notice.

It's money. It's what they always want from me! Elena was the same—so demanding, yet so whining. And there wasn't any difference with other women I've been with over the years. Gifts, cash, bills. I always knew I could get anything with my money.

But one crazy woman proved me wrong so many times. I still can't believe nothing of mine fazes her up to now. Neither my companies, nor my bank accounts. How is it possible that she's ready to leave me without taking anything? Not even her fair share of alimony? Is she for real?

I laugh to myself, thinking of what Elena demanded during our divorce. And now I'm stuck taking care of her every need until the day she dies. But not Mia. From day one she said it clearly that she didn't want a man to hold her life in his hands.

She wanted her own job, her own company, and she built it.

"Where to, Sir?" Bastien asks from the front seat, giving me his hard, Mozambican look.

"To Elena's. We'll go to the hotel afterwards." I glance toward the window, disregarding the fact that I hate to go to the mansion now.

It feels like hell every time I walk into that bedroom without seeing my wife roaming around in a towel or her tiny pajamas that urged me to undress her, kiss her impatiently, and fuck her senselessly.

I miss her. I even miss just holding her and talking to her about anything.

But it won't be long. I'll see her tonight at the gala and we'll probably talk. She has to forget about the damn divorce and come back home. I promise to love and worship her if she ever comes back to me.