I finally step downstairs, feeling refreshed and clean after a warm bath. The house smells terrific and I see a rear view of a young woman who's busy cleaning around. Her brown hair is tied up into a ponytail, dressed in a pale pink minidress—a uniform, I reckon.

"Hello," I greet cautiously, careful not to startle her. On the contrary, the girl jumps incredulously with a gasp. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Oh my Gosh! You must be Sir Liam's wife!" she squeals gleefully, her voice as sharp as a chirping bird on a summer morning. 

"Um . . . yes." I smile briefly.

"Oh, I knew it!" Her bright eyes beam jubilantly. "I'm Lisa, ma'am. I work here. Well, only three times a week but I can be at your service anytime you need me." Her enthusiasm takes me by surprise, especially when she hovers around, twisting and bending her hips like a beauty pageant.

She's interesting.

"Pleasure meeting you, Lisa." I outstretch my hand towards her, and she shakes it reluctantly. "I'm Kira, by the way."

"I know," Lisa utters fast.

Oh, does she? Intriguing.

"I see. Everyone knows it seems," I mutter, sighing softly while wondering how I became so famous around here.

It's like everybody knew me before they even met me. 

"Good morning," Mrs. Prescott appears at last, interrupting us.

"Morning." Turning around, I give her my brightest smile, which is returned as given. 

"Did you sleep well?" she asks tenderly. I nod affirmatively. "Good. Your breakfast is ready. If you want anything specific to be prepared for you, I'll gladly do it; you just say the word."

Wow. My subconscious is enthralled, for this is certainly new to both of us. 

"Thank you. I'll have whatever you've prepared." I'm too starving to start choosing anyway.

Soon after breakfast—which was more like a fancy tea party with so many bites—I take a little walk around the garden. The sun is now shining mildly, trying hard, to no avail, to fight against the cold that forces me to fasten my long blazer tightly on my chest. 

Now I can understand why my old-spirited husband bought this house. Aside from its exquisite interiors, it's this pleasant yard that's covered with the carpet of green grass, flowers, and serene trees dancing with the soft wind. It's very beautiful out here. 

Later in the afternoon I manage to get ahold of Sam through a video call. I miss her. It's impossible to believe that we're now oceans away, depending on technology to hear each other's voice. My smile grows immensely upon seeing her face popping on the screen. 

"Hey! I thought you forgot about me!" Sam pouts. I gather she's inside a car, a seatbelt crossed on her chest. 

"Don't be silly. I'd never forget about you and you know that. I was just so busy with . . . you know what." I shrug, flushing.

"Yeah. Busy practising the art of love and all the styles invented by horny humans," Sam remarks, rolling her eyes. 

"Crazy bitch!" I burst out laughing, and she joins me right away. "How are you, though? Where are you going so dolled up?" I ask, sitting cross-legged in my bed. 

The bedroom is still the only place I'm comfortable to be around. 

"You mean, coming from? I was in the clinic. I had an appointment today for the regular checkups."

"Oh. How is it going?" I ask.

"Well, everything is super fine with the baby. In fact, my tummy is getting bloated, and my jeans feel crampy, and I forget who I am sometimes when I wake up in the morning looking like I stuffed myself with pasta in the middle of the night. Do you know why? Because I do stuff myself with pasta, if not the KFC chicken, every night." 

"Wow!" I chuckle.

"Yeah, enjoy while it lasts. When it's your turn, I'll be right here returning the favour." Sam heaves a dramatic sigh, running a hand through her wavy blonde hair. "Oh, that's not all."

"Hmm, tell me more!" I'm so here for the gossip.

"My mother-in-law is a bitch! Like a real veteran bitch! Damn, she gets on my nerves, Kira!" Sam grunts irritatedly.

I raise a single eyebrow, fully aware of how unbearable Juliana Kruger is.  

I had the pleasure of seeing her colors while working at her family's resort. She's a snob, utterly overprotective of her sons, and her regards for poor people is so low that she barely looked her employees in the eyes. 

I lost count of how many ladies were fired for flirting with her sons. If only that effort was invested into raising her last born better, Beverly Hills would be free of one jerk in the list of so many others.

"Does she have any problem with you?" I ask, hoping that it's not as serious as Sam portrays it. 

I'm honestly worried for her, but I know she's not a pushover.

"Problem? That woman hates me! Or my guts—as she says!" Sam utters in contempt. "She blurts out that I deliberately got myself pregnant so that I get to marry his beloved son. What the actual fuck! I swear I constantly feel like pulling that old hag's hair. I was this close . . . this close, Kira, to do the unspeakable last night!" She clenches her fist tightly.

Oh boy.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. But don't let her get the best of you; it's exactly what she's looking for so as to prove herself right," I suggest, unable to come up with any solution. 

I believe this is Sam's battle and there's nothing I can do. I guess it reaches a time when everyone has to stand for themselves, because otherwise no one else will. 

"Ugh, I don't know." Sam reclines back onto her seat, shaking the video momentarily until she settles. "Enough about my rant. And seriously I feel good after venting. Now tell me about your honeymoon. Wait, you're in London, right?"

"Hmm, yeah." I nod. 

"Fuck, tell me everything! Is it a dream come true? Have you made babies already?" Sam urges.

Babies? She's nuts. 

"Well, it's amazing!" I answer matter-of-factly, and the conversation flows for the next several minutes. 

She tells me about her new life with Jonathan, which isn't as bad as previously insinuated, and I tell her about mine, which is simply great.

"Oh my, I'm so happy for you!" Sam chirps in wholeheartedly, her smile so vibrant. "You're actually trending on Instagram. I posted your wedding pics on my account and everyone's like . . . Wow! Is this Kira Jones? Who's the guy? And many more yadda yadda."

"Oh. I guess I'll have to log in and see. It's been ages since I dealt with that." I sigh. 

Social media exhausts me. 

"Yeah, you sound like a granny talking about going on a movie date," Sam remarks, twisting her nude lips. "Um, I'll call you later. The old hag is coming," she whispers, her eyes facing the other side. 

A heartfelt relief envelopes my heart when we end the call. All is well and that's what I was hoping for. A new message from Liam breezes me out of bed. He's picking me up in an hour and I have to be ready. 

***

I saunter from the dressing room while tying my curls into a simple up-do. A light makeup on my face, round earrings with a matching bracelet—I think I'm good to go. Liam regards me with his best smile when he sees me.

"You look radiant," he mutters. 

"Thank you. And I'm done." I adjust the black waist belt embellishing my grey, slim-fit turtleneck sweater, paired with black ankle boots. 

"Okay. Just a second." Liam types something on his MacBook before turning it off. "Done." He gets up at last, gracing me with a sweet smile. 

"Wait." I stall him before we make our exit, a slight frown on her face. "You're taking this off. Work hours are over, Sire." Smiling, I grab his necktie and loosen it gently. 

Liam says nothing; he just smiles and lets me do as I please. I adjust his shirt's collar, free a few top buttons, and he's ready to go. I bite my lip at the sight.

"Are we done, Mrs. Darcy?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes. Now you're casual, which means I won't look like your secretary." 

"My secretary? You're crazy. Let's go." He holds the small of my back as we rush out. 

It's three in the afternoon. The sky looks grey, the sun barely piercing through the thick clouds. It's as if it's going to rain, but Liam says it's only natural here. I guess I'm used to the capricious Californian sun. 

Outside Liam leads me toward a white convertible car. Holy cow! My eyes widen fleetingly, appreciating the view. It's a pretty one—eye-catching and fancy—and for the first time I crave having it for a baby. 

My poor Old Benny shouldn't hear this. Oh, I miss my big station wagon.

"After you, my love," Liam instructs, holding the car door open for me. 

Chivalry isn't dead, ladies and gentlemen! My subconscious cheers. 

"Thank you." I grin and push myself inside, settling onto the comfortable front passenger seat. 

It feels good, very comfortable, with a mixture of floral scent and leather. 

"What are you doing?" Liam chuckles lightly as he catches me writhing my ass on the seat like a child.

"I'm checking out this baby. I love it." I'm now inspecting the dashboard, everything modern and new.

"I see." Liam pulls the seatbelt, impelling me to do the same. 

"What's the name?" I ask, my eyes curious.

I'm not a car enthusiast, but I love this one. 

"Porsche Panamera. You like it?" 

"I think I love it." I don't shy away saying it.

"We shall get you the same one, then," Liam says casually, making it sound like something basic. I huff, amazed by this A-list lifestyle, but I say nothing. "Why are you staring at me like that?" he asks, igniting the engine. 

"Just . . .  you speak of getting me a car as if it's something like a cell phone. I can't help feeling astounded," I confess. "Can you really buy me the same one as this? Or any other car of your budget?'' I inquire. 

Liam smiles eloquently, his hands busy rolling the steering to reverse the car. Damn, he's serious. "I can afford buying you any car of your choice, Kira. Or you can keep this one, if you love it as you say." He drives nonchalantly towards the gates.

I don't think I can get used to this lifestyle. It's too exorbitant.

"Well, I was just saying. I'm not even sure what type of a car I want. In fact, my knowledge about cars is quite limited." I laugh when I recall that Old Benny is the only car I've ever had.

"Really? I think we'll have to work on that, Mrs. Darcy. We shall find you the best car to fit the best and beautiful you," Liam remarks haughtily, glancing at me like a shockingly playboy he is. 

I flush. "In that case, I'll leave it to you, hubby. You know me better." 

"Hmm. Hubby. I love the sound of that," Liam mutters as he drives past the gates, his gaze solely on me. 

"I bet you do." I grin, satisfied with the outcome. 

The ride from Kensington to Oxford is rather playful. I keep asking Liam a number of questions regarding the streets and other interesting stuff we come across whilst on the road, and he answers them with pleasure. 

Our first stop is a huge electronic shop Liam takes me to. As promised, he gets me a new cell phone inserted with a local sim card. I'm not sure when he's done it, because we simply walked in, and everything was ready to take. 

"Problem one solved, isn't it, Mrs. Darcy?" Liam teases, grazing my lips with his as we return in the car.

"It is. Thank you," I reply fondly, eyeing the latest blush gold iPhone. "Goodbye, Android. But I'll keep you safe in case I get mad at someone." 

"What?" Liam blinks. 

I erupt into laughter. "Just a harmless reminder, honey. You're responsible for the death of my old phone."

"Am I?" Liam winces back, his eyes amused. 

"Where are we going next?" I ask evasively, laughing at some old memory. 

I swear this man could've been the death of me if he didn't come back. 

"Knightsbridge." Liam starts the car soon after we both buckle up. "My mother used to have a boutique there, but it's now owned by a friend of hers."

Knightsbridge. I put it into my memory.  I've already seen a bit of Oxford, and I live in Kensington, and I think I'm enjoying this day much better with Liam as my guide.

"Are we going to shop there or something?" I quiz him. 

"Yeah. And it's where Malik lives." Liam  smiles. 

"Really?" My face lights up jubilantly. "Could he be at home? Can we meet him? I miss them so much."

"We can arrange to have dinner with them later. I'll give him a call," Liam replies.

"Yay!" I squeal gleefully.

Liam raises an eyebrow at me. "Did you just say . . . yay?"

"I did." I giggle. "It's like . . . awesome! I'm happ

"I know what it means, Kira," Liam grunts.

"Oh, do you?" I love making him a grandpa. 

"Yes. I just think you were . . . cute. Adorable." He smiles and I blush. 

We stop outside a huge boutique called Marie Curie. As per usual, Liam leads the way. He seems familiar with the place, and it dawns on me that it used to be Eleanor's boutique.  Accented with French décor, mid century furniture, the interior is quite classy.

In a whiff I inhale a thick scent of a feminine perfume which distracts my endeavor to look around the place. 

A gorgeous lady in a pink pantsuit and white stilettos clatters over to regard our presence. She smiles brightly, her dark hair in a high bun, big earrings dangling down her long neck. I tighten my hand around Liam's arm—a very natural reflex, I suppose. 

"Welcome, Mr. Darcy," she utters sassily, her green eyes beaming delightedly at Liam.

Mr. Darcy? Why does it feel illegal hearing another woman calling my husband like this? I frown a bit, trying to unwelcome this etching displeasure.

Well, he is Mr. Darcy, right? He was, even before we met, so I should chill my overworking hormones. But there's a deeper meaning to our formalities. 

"Hello." Trying to be novel, I smile at her. 

"Hi," the brunette replies curtly, and back to Liam she says, "Sasha said I should personally assist you. Unfortunately she's out of London at the moment."

Liam's eyes are busy scanning the racks beside us, a very long line of exquisite looking dresses. 

"I know. I talked to her," he finally responds with a tight smile. "Well, it's my wife who needs your service." He slides his hand about my waist, flattering my gigantic ego.

"Oh." The lady's enthusiasm weavers, but her smile remains. "I see. Is there anything specific you may like? We've got a new winter collection. I'll be happy to show you around," she suggests softly, glancing at me with civility. 

Bottoms up, bitches! My subconscious slurs. 

"Yes, please," I utter confidently, my manners befitting.

"This way," the lady says pointedly. "Anything to drink, Mr. Darcy?" she asks Liam before leaving, and he politely declines. 

Everything has a designer label. The brunette keeps mentioning Alice Temperley, Victoria Beckham, and Amanda Wakeley most of the time, but I know absolutely nothing about those designers whose clothes are here in this fancy boutique.

Well, except I do know Victoria Beckham from the Spice girls.

Exploring around, I get to see both beautiful and weird designs, carrying one or two things in common; horrific prices and high quality fabrics. Despite listening to the marketing talk from the brunette, I focus on what I like until I walk into the fitting room. 

Each time I put something on, I step out to show my husband. I always wanted to do this. Cliche maybe, but new to me, and he surely loves it. 

"How do I look?" I ask. Liam frowns. "What? Is it bad?" 

"Not good enough," Liam says simply.

"Obtuseness hasn't lost you, has it? Jeez, you're so hard to please." Laughing, I walk back and the circle continues.

Throughout the process, Liam makes his blunt remarks—widening his eyes when I'm too stunning, and narrows them when I'm not—but I enjoy every bit of his honesty. 

"How about this one? You said that one was too loose." I twirl around, a very short and tight dress hugging my body, with a deep V-neckline to show off my cleavage.

It's provoking, and that's my ultimate intention. I'm grinning mischievously while anticipating his answer. 

"Um . . . " He stares intently at my body, eyes gleaming as he gets up. "It's lovely. You look sexy." 

"Oh yeah?" I succumb to his hold when he holds me stoutly. 

"Very. Although you'll only wear it when I'm around, are we having an understanding, Mrs. Darcy?" Playfully his lips teases mine, his hand smoothly running between my legs, diving underneath the dress. 

I inhale sharply, and his blue eyes turn wild as he smiles at me—beguiling me. I gape my mouth, feeling his touch heading smoothly at the apex of my thighs.

"Liam . . ." I smile nervously, my body aroused when gently rub me down there. 

"What?" He's having fun, his grin sardonic and ungentleman. 

I'm about to grab his face and take my kiss when I hear the heels cracking on the tiles. Damn it! She's coming. 

"Are you done?" asks the brunette and Liam is already off my panties. 

"I think so. Right, my love?" He beams at me, and I'm too horny to stay focused. 

Clearing my throat, I reply, "Yes, we're done. I got what I wanted."