Our night in London was the only one we'd spent together for about three months.

It didn't relieve anything. It only made the absence more acute and by the time April finally came, our separation was taking its toll.

I was physically exhausted from the whirlwind of activity I packed tight into three months. Oliver and I hadn't gotten a ton of sleep either, calling each other as much as we could despite the timezone difference. In a way, it gave us both perspective on how things could be in the future and how well we could handle it. Even though I'd be making an effort not to travel for really long periods of time, I would still need to take several trips during the year. At least, once the truth was out, Oliver would be able to come with me. We could make a trip of it.

That means getting the truth out there sooner rather than later.

That thought and what it could mean haunted me on my flight back to California. It was nearly one in the morning when we landed but Oliver was there waiting for me.

Forgetting himself and our public setting for a moment, he hauled me up against him for a hard, thorough kiss that had my assistant squealing when she emerged from the jet.

"You didn't see any of that, Janine!" I told her with a meaningful wiggle of my brows as I waved her toward the town car that had been booked to take her home. "Goodnight!"

As soon as my assistant was safely deposited inside the car, Oliver pulled me back toward him and I playfully slapped his arm away.

"Are you trying to get us caught?"

"At this point, I'm willing to do anything to ensure that you don't leave for that long while I'm stuck here unable to do or say anything about it," he said. "We can go tell Stellan and you're Dad now. I'll drive."

I grinned and rolled my eyes. "Nice try, Oliver. Come on. I need sleep. I'm about to fall flat on my face."

When I did fall flat on my face, it was at least on my bed. Makeup, clothes and shoes on, I went out like a light the moment Oliver and I arrived at my loft.

From the jet lag and the screwed up timezone, I didn't get up until almost six in the evening the next day. Oliver was gone and considering it was a Saturday, he was probably looking after things at Mad Alley. He'd mentioned something about Sav having a big fight tonight.

I showered and changed into a slouchy black shift dress and a chunky pair of biker boots. I braided my hair and tucked it into a high bun. I wore minimal makeup, leaving my skin porcelain white with a generous show of pale freckles. I still attracted some attention when I arrived. The place was bursting at the seams especially in the basement where a full-blown match was going on but men still turned and flirted as I strode past them. No one tried anything not because I looked intimidating but because I could feel one of Oliver's bouncers shadowing me from behind. I looked over my shoulder and flashed a smile at Trent who gave me a polite nod before moving in front of me to clear me a spot near the ring.

I didn't see Oliver anywhere but I stayed, riveted by the sight of a very large Dominic Savage trading fists with his opponent. The other guy was by no means small but Sav was just a massive, domineering presence. His expression was mean as hell, eyes hard and narrowed, his thick black hair whipping around his face. He lacked the finesse and movement economy I'd seen Oliver fight with but his sheer size and strength were overwhelming on their own. It wouldn't take him too many punches to knock his opponent out cold.

I was able to watch the match in relative peace thanks to Trent who kept guard around me.

During a time out, I turned to him. "Where's Oliver?"

"He's in the office," Trent said almost too formally. "He said he'll be down to see you asap."

I wrinkled my nose. "I'm going up to see him. No need to tail me. I'll drop some bodies if I have to."

Trent blinked at me in confusion and I just laughed and went to navigate my way to the admin offices that were in a mezzanine level of the basement. Oliver and Sav shared an office with two desks and a large viewing window that looked out onto the cage and the floor. There were two smaller offices that flanked it.

The main office's door was slightly ajar and I could hear a combination of male and female voices. My heart lurched as a feeling of deja vu hit me but my feet didn't stop moving.

Whatever it is, you're not going to run away like a scared mouse again.

I pushed the door open and the voices became clearer.

One was Oliver and the other one was... Rachel?

I found my husband standing on his side of the desk, his arms crossed and looking very exasperated. The brunette perched seductively on the other side of the desk matched the name I had in mind. She was in a tight little peach dress, her hair in perfect waves, her bronzed legs bared.

"Vivienne." I was the only one who could tell that the slight rise in Oliver's voice indicated his panic but he stood his ground as I flashed him a broad smile.

Rachel Miller glanced over her shoulder at me, her brows shooting up in mild alarm even though she composed herself seconds after. She'd grown tougher skin but then, callously using people alone would give her that.

"Well, if it isn't my former sister-in-law," Rachel greeted chirpily, not looking like she was planning to slide herself off Oliver's desk anytime soon. My blood thrummed in a new simmer because Rachel Miller wasn't done in my punishment list quite yet.

I cocked my head to the side in amusement. "That term has actual legal implications but then vocabulary has never been your strongest point. Stellan never married you, Rachel, and every day he thanks his lucky stars for your fantastic fuck-up."

Rachel frowned. "Of course, he would. No guy would ever admit to being dumped for another man."

"And you would think no woman would be dim enough to throw it in his face especially when she planned on crawling back to him, begging to be taken back once it became clear that she preferred a pampered life over an exciting one," I said, my smile not once wavering. "But you're one of a kind, Rachel, just as you told my brother. Unfortunately for you, he only looks at facts and you stacked a good amount of it against your case."

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "No. You turned him against me!"

Oliver opened his mouth as if to intervene but I just shot him a quick, quelling look. He immediately snapped it shut.

"No. I'm pretty sure it was you frolicking the beach with your new man for all the world to see," I said calmly. "I won't own up to that. But I will definitely own up to making sure no one who was friends with my family ever welcomed you within ten feet of them. Who knew it would be everyone you knew in Europe and here at home? I guess I just didn't realize we were such friendly folks."

Rachel was turning a ripe tomato red under her fake tan as I beamed sweetly at her. Call it vindictive but I didn't feel the slightest pang of guilt or regret.

Rachel played the sweet, shy girl card when she met my brother and turned it all around once she had her claws deep into Stellan. Then she humiliated him in plain public view. So yes, I would happily take my revenge on her over and over again in as many creative ways as possible. Stellan never would so the excess was just me doing what was supposed to be his fair share of it.

"Now, tell me," I said, looking around the room. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver gently shook his head. "Rachel's been banned from coming here for several years now. She slipped in today as someone's date and made a scene when one of the bouncers caught up with her. I've been trying to convince her to leave peacefully if she didn't want to be hauled out by my men."

Recovering briefly from her teeth-grinding, she threw Oliver a flirtatious look. "I don't really see what the problem is. Stellan's not here. There's no harm in letting me stick around to have a little fun. You can appreciate a little fun, Oliver, can't you? You've always been the more exciting one. I should've known in the beginning."

I threw up a little in my mouth but I managed to catch myself before I could grab Rachel by the throat and throw her flat on the floor.

Oliver just slowly arched his brows in the perfect expression of utter boredom.

"Rachel, please, stop," I said in a patient tone. "The crass coming out of you is making me nauseous."

"What? Are you just mad because after all these years, you still can't get Oliver to take pity on you and give you the time of the day?" Rachel shot back furiously. "News flash, Vivienne: Men don't like to fuck a block of ice."

My eyes slitted as I saw red and I took a step forward. If I had any ice in my veins, it was all melted by the fire in my blood now.

"That's enough, Rachel," I heard Oliver say. "My men are going to walk you out and—"

"Oliver will never be yours," I hissed hard and low at Rachel whose eyes darted around for an exit as I closed in on her.

But she tried to maintain her bravado, thrusting her chin up in defiance. "If he ain't anybody's, he's free for all. Just because you wrapped yourself around him like a ball and chain doesn't mean he's yours, Vivienne. I can have him if I want to."

No, you can't because he's already mine. I have the ring and the paper to prove it.

But I didn't say any of that no matter how much I wanted to scream it at her.

"No, Rachel. You can't have me because I definitely won't have you," Oliver cut in, waving in a couple of men I didn't even notice had appeared by the door. "The guys are going to make sure you find your way out. If you try anything like this again, I will call the police on you. Now, go."

Rachel pouted even as the two bouncers flanked her. "But Oliver..."

"Don't forget to pick up your dignity on the way out," I called after her as the men firmly but respectfully steered her toward the door. "I saw it on the floor—at least what's left of it."

Oliver closed the door after them and gave me a look as he walked back to me. "You're never going to stop raking her over the coals, are you?"

"No. At least not until Stellan's happy in love with some nice girl," I said. "She burned him bad enough he hasn't been inclined to go near the flame again. That's still on her head."

"I'm pretty sure it's now Stellan's choice at this point," Oliver said.

"It doesn't matter!" I argued, starting to pace now, frustrated that I couldn't tear Rachel into pieces earlier when I so badly wanted to. "The nerve of that woman! How many times has she done this before?"

"Twice a year, give or take. She usually never gets this far."

I put my hands on my waist to look at him in disbelief. "Why haven't you called the cops on her before?"

"Because I don't want Stellan getting wind of it," Oliver said. "I know he's not nursing a broken heart over her but he's still embarrassed by it. The last thing I want is to force him into dealing with her."

"Are you sure it's out of concern for my brother or something else, Oliver?"

I really shouldn't have said that but I was still bristling from Rachel's comments and I wanted to draw some blood.

Oliver visibly had to tamp down on his temper, crossing his arms and meeting my gaze directly. "If you still don't know the answer to that question, Viv, we're going to have to have an entirely different discussion altogether."

I winced, rubbing the space between my brows. "I'm sorry. Of course, you wouldn't. It's just that...God! She's a fucking piece of work, coming in here, making a play at you—"

"I never encouraged it."

"—calling me a block of ice," I went on with a scoff. "And sneering at me for still trying to bait you. Ha! If she only knew! She would've choked on it like she had a block of ice down her throat!"

"She could've known. You could've told her," Oliver said quietly, catching me off guard in my reckless rant. "Just like you can tell the whole world, Vivienne, so they know I'm infinitely and exclusively yours."

I bit my lip, the fight draining out of me because while that statement seemed like a demand, I could hear the plea in it. "I just need a little more time, Oliver."

"I don't know that any more time will make a difference," he said, frustration plain on his face. "It's not going to make the past less ugly. Our mistakes will still be mistakes."

But they're not all the mistakes you know.

Feeling a shot of desperation, I walked over to him and slid my arms around his neck. "I think we need to work out everything that we need work out before coming out in the open. We need to be able to tell them with all conviction that whatever has happened in the past has been laid to rest. That's the only way they'll accept this without tearing us apart for answers. They'll have questions, they'll have doubts, they'll have issues with all of this. We shouldn't. We should be over all of that if we're going to weather this together."

Oliver gently brushed the back of his fingers along my cheeks. "And you don't think we have?"

"Not entirely," I admitted because I knew I still had secrets I had to share. "But at least we know we both want this to work and that's the best start we can ask for, Oliver."

"I know, angel. I know," Oliver murmured, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry if I push sometimes. I just want that day to come when I can be with you anytime, anywhere because everyone knows you're mine."

"I am yours," I murmured as I ran my lips along the line of his jaw. "I've never been anyone else's, Oliver."

"Damn right you're only mine."

With a grunt, he lifted me up into his arms, his mouth taking mine in a rough kiss. I clung to the tight, sinewy muscles of his shoulders as I wrapped my legs around his hips, loving his strength and fraying finesse. He maneuvered us somewhat around the room until my back found the wall and his one hand snatched at the thin silk of my underwear.

He groaned my name when his fingers found me ready and with a curse, he pressed me back against the wall to hold some of my weight while his one hand fumbled with his jeans. With little to no grace, Oliver plunged deep inside me, pulling a loud gasp from both of us. His eyes opened and in the dim lighting of the room, they blazed like blue flames as he proceeded to pound hard into me.

There was no restraint here. What he couldn't demand from me in our current situation he demanded from my body and there was no question as to whom it belonged.

It was rough and gritty and rushed as the need we'd banked the last few months rose to a feverish pitch.

Oliver stole his name from my mouth as I cried it out on my climax and I held on as his thrusts came faster and deeper. He moaned low against my mouth as powerful tremors ripped through his frame at his own shuddering release.

We were both panting by the time we lifted our heads and I probably matched the lazy, smug smile on his face.

Never let it be said that I thought this was ideal but sneaking around had its perks.

***

"Are you guys going to get the salad out or should I just take it and leave you two here?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw Max standing by the kitchen doorway, looking amused.

The tallest of the four friends at six foot five inches plus a broad, muscular frame, he could be intimidating if not for his thick wavy blond hair and playful smile. In blue board shorts and a white T-shirt, he looked more California surfer than businessman but then, that wasn't too far from the truth. There was nothing laid-back about the keen glance he gave us and I wondered just how long he'd been standing there before he spoke. Luckily, Oliver and I had just been chatting in low, hushed tones while prepping the salad.

"I'm still cutting up cucumbers," I said as I scraped what I had cubed into the large bowl of greens. "And Oliver's still making the dressing. Why? Did you already finish all the food like savages?"

It was a glorious mid-June afternoon and a rare time to have everyone in town at the same time so Dad called an impromptu barbecue at his place. Zenaida was off for a month to see her family in Puerto Rico so we decided to put stuff together ourselves. Dad and the other guys were outside grilling and I'd been chopping up the salad when Oliver came in half an hour ago.

"No, but I didn't want to get talked into going golfing so I snuck out," Max said with a sheepish grin. "But you two are the slowest salad-makers there are in this world. Maybe I should help before we only have compost left to eat."

Oliver rolled his eyes and shoved Max a platter with lettuce, tomato slices, onions and pickles. "Here, take this and start putting some burgers together. We'll be out in five minutes."

"Sure you are," Max said with snort before turning toward the door where he abruptly paused. "Oh, and I need an extra plate. Jack's guy in his new little business venture just dropped in."

I handed him two extra plates from the cupboard as I scrunched my nose up in confusion. "Do you mean from Global Air?"

Dad had recently partnered with a company that owned several smaller airlines to various vacation destinations all over the world. It was all he could talk about the past few weeks.

"Yeah, their CFO," Max said. "Some Tate guy. Tate Worthington, I think."

My eyes widened. "Tate Worthington? Tate's here?"

Max smiled. "So you know him?"

"Yes," I answered slowly, glancing sideways at Oliver who looked like he was having no trouble with his memory, recalling that one night I introduced them after he tracked me down to my new apartment in New York. "I knew him in college. We were friends."

"Let me guess," Max said. "Like most guys who meet you, he wanted to be more than friends, didn't he?"

I glowered at Max who just laughed.

I wanted to think he was just innocently teasing but something told me he was deliberately goading Oliver whose profile had turned stony in the last thirty seconds.

"Can't see why you didn't give him a chance," Max added. "Good-looking guy. Got a job. Seems nice."

"Why don't you date him since you seem overly impressed?" Oliver bit out.

Max laughed. "Not my type, man. You know I like my women. Love them. Can't live without them."

I rolled my eyes. "Max, don't make me throw a cucumber at you. Go. We'll be right there."

"I'll be sure to tell Tate," he called out in amusement as he walked out the door.

"Max is just being a goose," I said to break the ominous silence. "Don't let him get to you."

"It's not Max I have a problem with," Oliver muttered as he tossed the whisk he'd been using with the dressing into the sink.

I rolled my eyes. "It's been years since Tate and I last saw each other. He probably doesn't remember you."

"Sure. But I bet he remembers you very well."

"I doubt that."

A faint smile curved on Oliver's lips. "You—dreamy, dazzling Vivienne Cartwright—can honestly say you're forgettable to any man?"

I let out a long-suffering sigh. "Don't patronize me, Oliver. Whether Tate remembers me or not is of no significance to me now."

"It is if he thinks you're available," he bit out.

"Are we really going to do this right now?" I demanded. "Because I'm pretty sure that if one of us has a long list of ex-flames to lament about, it's you. The only reason I'm not losing sleep over that list is because you said they didn't mean anything. So when I tell you that Tate, who wasn't even my ex-anything for crying out loud, doesn't mean anything to me, I expect you to believe it."

That sobered up Oliver, alright.

He said nothing as he followed me out to the backyard patio where the gang was.

"There's my darling girl!" Dad stepped aside to greet me, revealing the tall man beside him. It was definitely Tate and while he did look older than I remembered, much of him remained the same.

"Vivienne!" His smile was broad and warm as he leaned down to give me a brief, friendly hug. "It's so good to see you. You look amazing!"

Jack clapped him on the back as he smiled at me indulgently. "Tate mentioned to me last week that he knew you in college. So when he was in town this weekend, I thought you wouldn't mind if I invited him over. Sounded to me like you were pretty good friends."

Even though I could feel the hole Oliver's gaze was boring into the back of my head, I gave Tate a genuine smile because honestly, the guy had never been anything but nice to me. "Yes, he was one of the few people who could actually put up with me back then."

Tate laughed. "If it's you, Vivienne, it never feels like a sacrifice. I always looked forward to spending time with you."

Okay. Right. So Tate's still got stars in his eyes.

Even though I didn't say it out loud, everyone seemed to be thinking it as the other guys gave me knowing smiles.

"So, have you met everyone here or—"

"Oliver's the only one he hasn't met," Max said as he slung an arm around Oliver and steered him toward the front. "Tate, Oliver Yates. Oliver, meet Tate Worthington."

"We've met." The sharp angle of Oliver's jaw was more pronounced with his tension as he barely tipped his head toward Tate, making no move to reach out for a handshake.

Tate blinked at him as recognition dawned in his eyes and after a surreptitious glance at me, he gave a polite smile to Oliver. "Yes. Right. In New York."

"Right," Max idly mumbled along and I wanted to kick him on the shin. "Makes sense. Oliver used to visit Vivienne lots when she was in school."

"Older brother's best friend, I think, is what she said," Tate added although a little warily.

"That's one way to put it, I guess," Stellan said. "But all my friends are very protective of Vivienne. Comes with being the only girl in our circle."

Stellan was never the intimidating older brother but Tate looked appropriately warned that I started to feel bad for him a little bit.

Dad, probably sensing the undercurrents, ventured to steer the conversation to friendlier terms. "Well, we do look out for each other because we're all family here. And we barbecue pretty damn good, if I say so myself. Everyone ready to dig in?"

Stellan and the rest cheerfully agreed as they descended on the table where the food waited and the awkward moment was completely forgotten.

Oliver hung back, looking brooding and as I passed him, I caught his hand in mine for a brief, reassuring squeeze. He smiled softly at me and squeezed back before I barged forward, heading straight for Max who was standing at the rear of the group. I bumped him aside and even though my weight was nothing to him, he backed up a step to give me space.

"Stop goading Oliver," I hissed at him under my breath. "Unless you're just itching for a fight and you think he's going to give it to you."

Max suppressed a laugh but his eyes were twinkling as he leaned down to whisper, "I'm just doing you both a favor."

I smacked him on the arm. "We don't need favors."

"Oh, yeah?" Max challenged.

"If you want to play matchmaker, find someone else," I said. "Sebastian's over there. Find him a nice girl. He could use a little romance."

Max snorted. "Uh, no. Not touching that one. He doesn't need a little matchmaking. He needs a miracle."

"You know who needs a miracle, Max?"

"Who?"

"You do," I said pertly before walking away from him.

The barbecue wasn't as atrociously awkward as I feared with everyone else easily carrying the conversations along the table. Even after admitting he was single and casting me a sideways glance while saying it, Tate didn't spend the whole time gazing at me longingly or anything like that which was fortunate because even though he was civil, Oliver was not thrilled about the situation. He kept flexing his hands into fists the whole afternoon even Sebastian dryly commented he should go hit a tree. Oliver just gave him an icy glare that Sebastian returned with even less warmth.

"You've barely said three words to me since we got home," I told him later that evening as we got ready for bed at his penthouse.

Since I came home about two months ago, we haven't spent a night apart, whether it was his place or mine. Lately, it had been more his because there was less risk of Dad or Stellan showing up unannounced. Janine knew that Oliver and I were seeing each other but not much more than that and she conveniently made excuses for me whenever my family called around to find out where I was.

Oliver pulled me gently onto his lap, his hands resting on my waist. "I've been thinking."

"You're not plotting Tate's untimely demise, are you?"

Oliver smirked. "It would take one good swing, Viv. It doesn't require much creativity."

"Oh, stop it." I playfully shoved against his shoulder. "Barbaric isn't so sexy these days, you know?"

He drew me hard against him. "Care to let me prove you wrong?"

I laughed and wiggled away from him. "No. Not right now. You were going to tell me what you were thinking."

The teasing left his eyes and my own smile faded.

"Oliver, what is it?" I prodded. "What are you thinking about?"

"Whether or not I'm going to be a good father someday," he said in a husky tone, his one hand spreading to encompass the width of my belly.

My heart stuttered at the admission but I kept my voice calm, wanting to see into Oliver's thoughts on something we'd never discussed before. "What makes you wonder?"

"I know I shouldn't have said something but earlier, I asked Jack what he was trying to do bringing Tate to the barbecue," he said. "He didn't miss a beat. Just looked me in the eye and said that it might be healthy to have you meet some other men outside of our protective circle. He thinks you spend too much time with us, me specifically. He didn't say it in so many words but I think he wanted you to know there's so much more out there than just me."

"Dad knows I was infatuated with you for years," I said gently. "He thinks that didn't go anywhere and he probably doesn't want a repeat of that."

"I walked away angry at him. Then I realized his reasons," he said with a wry shake of his head. "Love can make us very selfish but it's when it can make us selfless that measures just how deep that love goes."

He smiled and gently bumped his nose against mine. "And your father loves you very much, angel. I only hope that one day I can be like him when we have our own little one."

That got Oliver's imagination running because he glanced down at my belly and spanned it with his hands as if imagining it swollen with child. "If we have a girl, maybe we'll name her after your Mom. Or mine. Doesn't matter to me. I wish she'd have your red hair. And your smart mouth."

I laughed even as tears pricked my eyes. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Or if we have a boy, I'd like to name him after Harry," Oliver said, his voice growing nostalgic. "Or maybe his middle name so I don't confuse them in my head."

"Theodore."

Oliver smiled and tightened his arms around me. "Yeah. That's a good name."

My chin trembled and I breathed through the emotions that were tightening within my chest. "Yeah. It is. I don't mind it at all."

"And you won't mind having children with me?" he asked quietly but I could hear the wariness in his voice. "I know I'm not an ideal father but I'm going to do my damnedest best, Viv, to be there for them and to love them."

"I know you will, Oliver," I whispered, touching my forehead to his chin, my eyes fluttering close as a single tear trickled down my cheek. "I just hope I can do the same."

"Of course, you can," he said firmly. "You'll be a wonderful mother, Viv. There's no question about that."

I sank into Oliver's arms, letting his words pull me back ashore and taking comfort he didn't know he was giving.

***

So, what do you guys think?

Obviously, these two are in a bit of a waiting game—haven't they been their entire marriage? But don't worry, the wait won't be long. Next week, things start to unravel and it's going to unravel fast.

Four more chapters to go!

By the way, hope you like the little sneak peek on Max. I know a lot of you don't know much about him and have been so curious. I've started writing his story now. I think you're going to like him a lot. =)

Hope you're having a great start this 2017!

XOXO,

Ninya

♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Breathe by Fleurie ♪♪♪

I hear the sound

Echoes beneath

Angels and skylines meet

And I'm straining to reach

The light on the surface

Light on the otherside

I feel the pages turning

I see the candle burning down

Before my eyes

Before my wild eyes

I feel you holding me

Tighter, I cannot see

When will we finally

Breathe

Breathe

Breathe

Breathe

Breathe

I feel the pages turning

I see the candle burning down

Before my eyes

Before my wild eyes

I feel you holding me

Tighter, I cannot see

When will we finally