The Secret

by Stella Gray

  “I shouldn’t tell you,” Stefan said. “This is between me and my father.”

  “No it’s not,” I said. “It’s so much bigger than that, and you know it. Tell me.”

  But waiting for Stefan’s response, I couldn’t help holding my breath. I needed to know the truth, but whatever he told me about my father would change my opinion of him forever.

  Stefan took a deep breath and then sat up, leaning back against the headboard.

  “Your father,” he began, “is deeply involved with KZM’s illegal business dealings.”

  It wasn’t a surprise, but I still felt my stomach drop. Still felt the shock of betrayal.

  He went on, “Not only is he one of the company’s most profitable clients himself, but he also gets kickbacks for referring other wealthy, high-powered men to the backdoor side of the agency. And he refers a lot of them.”

  I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. I had braced myself to hear something bad, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Hearing that my father used KZ Modeling as a client made me sick—and my heart went out to my stepmother, Michelle. I couldn’t help wondering if she knew. She’d always told me there were trade-offs to being a trophy wife. Was that because she knew firsthand the kind of indignities I might have to face? Had she spent her entire marriage to my father turning a blind eye to his indiscretions? Or had she been in the dark as much as I had been? Maybe it was something in between. Knowing that he wasn’t faithful, but never imagining that he had aligned himself with an illegal sex trafficking ring.

  The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize the implications.

  “This information would destroy my father’s career,” I said out loud, understanding dawning on me. “Not just politically, either. He’d be in jail. Maybe for the rest of his life.”

  Stefan nodded. “You can see why both of our fathers approved of this match,” he said. “Marrying you gave my father a reason to protect your father’s secret. And in turn, being connected to your father publicly gives KZ Modeling legitimacy. If there were any rumors about KZM being an illegal front, they’d be much more easily dismissed thanks to having a highly respected U.S. senator connected to the Zoric family. Our marriage protects both of them.”

  “And puts us in the middle of their tangled web,” I said bitterly.

  It was a lot to take in. A lot to realize how deeply my father was involved.

  We sat there together in silence, Stefan giving me time to absorb all the information and the harsh reality of our situation.

  “What about Irina?” I asked, thinking of the beautiful woman who had come to my table at the coffee shop. “Why was she thanking you? Was that related to all of this?”

  “I’ve been trying to help the models as much as I can,” he said slowly. “It’s complicated. Sometimes, if I can, I book them as a client—under a fake name—just to give them a night off from their work. I get a hotel room, order up a hot meal from room service, listen to them talk. I try to help them make plans to escape. Sometimes it works.”

  I nodded. “That explains all the nights you come home so late. Or not at all.”

  Stefan took my hand. “I don’t sleep with them,” he said firmly. “I’m not like my father, and I don’t use women like that.

  “Irina was one of the models I was able to help get away. I’ve done that with a few women—I wish it were more, but it’s too risky. There was a woman in Hungary, do you remember Oksana? She’s one of the women I helped.”

  “I remember.” And I remembered clearly. At the time, I had found her devotion to Stefan suspicious and worrying. Now I understood it. I understood, too, why Irina had called Stefan a “good man.” All the sneaking around, the cageyness, the secrets and lies—all this time, my husband had been trying to save as many of these exploited women as possible.

  “How many women have you helped?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not enough. But the organization is so big. So massive. My father’s reach—and your father’s influence—are a powerful shield. They’re well-protected, they have allies, and there’s only so much I can do without putting my bigger plans at risk.”

  “So what are those plans?” I wanted to know. “What’s the end goal?”

  “My dream is to eventually go straight,” he said. “Make KZ Modeling a real talent agency and nothing more. It doesn’t need to be a sex slave ring. In fact, we could have gone straight years ago, from the beginning, if not for my father’s greed and megalomania. He wanted too much. Money, power, women, connections. And control. Always control. He’s willing to do anything to get that.” He looked at me, his eyes blazing.

  I was overwhelmed as I thought of everything Stefan had gone through all these years. I couldn’t believe he’d done all this on his own, that he’d been carrying the burden on his shoulders with no one to talk to.

  “You should have told me,” I said, my voice thick with tears.

  He’d protected his brother and his sister, while doing everything he could to combat his father’s monstrous behavior and practices. Always wearing that mask, keeping up that façade, just so he could continue to work for his father, continue gaining his trust, while at the same time secretly attempting to dismantle the very company he was expected to inherit.

  No wonder Stefan had become so hard, so closed off. How could he not be, after everything he had seen? After everything he had gone through, the lie he’d had to live?

  “I couldn’t risk getting you involved,” he said. “I wanted to keep you safe. Tracking you, hiring that bodyguard, they were never about keeping you in a cage. They were about making sure my father never took you the way he took Anja. Never used you as leverage against me.”

  His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my tears away.

  It all made sense now. His behavior. His need to know where I was at all times. No wonder he had been so furious when I would disappear, when he couldn’t find me, when I was out with people he didn’t know.

  I would never put him through that worry again. Especially now that I knew the truth.

  “I thought you were cheating on me,” I confessed. “I thought you were seeing other women, hiding a mistress from me…”

  Stefan shook his head. “It’s only been you,” he said.

  “All this time?” I asked. I had to be sure. I had to know the truth, once and for all.

  He kissed me, slow and soft, and then pulled away to look me in the eye.

  “Ever since our wedding, from the moment we said I do, its only ever been you,” he said.

  Tori

  Chapter 27

  When I woke up the next morning, I lay there for a long time, replaying the events of last night in my head. I was alone. It was a Saturday, so I didn’t have any classes to rush off to, but Stefan might have gone into the office for the day. The condo seemed quiet. Hushed. Empty.

  At first I was afraid that our night together had been a dream, or worse—that it had all been real, but that Stefan would be different in the light of day. That he’d go back to his old self, acting as if nothing had passed between us, as if he’d never opened up to me and told me his secrets. Never told me that he loved me.

  Had it really all happened? Had we torn down all the walls that had stood between us? Was our marriage real now? Was it true? Or would I get out of bed, walk into the kitchen, and find the same Stefan that I had been living with for all these months? A man that was as shut down and closed off and dangerous as his father?

  I couldn’t stand the thought of it, but when I caught the unmistakable scent of fresh-brewed coffee, I decided it was best to face him now, as soon as possible, and find out right away just how much things had really changed.

  Cautiously, I wrapped my soft, luxurious robe around myself and then padded out of the bedroom, straining my ears for sounds of life in the apartment. The smoky smell of bacon in the hallway hit me immediately. Inhaling deeply, my mouth watering, I headed to the kitchen.

 
; Rounding the doorway, I was shocked to find Stefan at the stove. The last time he’d tried to make me breakfast, I’d been too ill from my night at the club to appreciate it. But now, I couldn’t imagine anything I wanted more than to be cared for, and cooked for, by my husband.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” I teased.

  “I told Gretna to take the day off,” he said, turning to smile at me. “It’s just us.”

  The food wasn’t the only reason my mouth was watering. Stefan was naked from the waist up, his jeans hugging his great ass and powerful thighs. I stood there silently for a moment, taking it all in. His gorgeous broad shoulders, his strong back, the way his muscles tensed and bunched as he tended to the pans on the stove. He was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous.

  I was starving now, but not for breakfast.

  “Did you sleep well, beautiful?” he asked, his voice warm and full of promises.

  “I did,” I replied, realizing by the way he was acting that everything last night had been real.

  The Stefan I had spent all night talking to—and making love with—was still here.

  I was so full of love I could barely see straight.

  “Breakfast is just about ready,” he said, draping a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

  It didn’t seem possible, but it made him look even sexier and more appealing than he had mere moments ago.

  Then he poured a coffee into my favorite mug, added a splash of my coconut creamer, and handed the cup to me. I thanked him, unable to help the blush that spread across my cheeks. A blush that only made him smile more widely at me.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring you a plate?” he said, gesturing toward the table.

  I settled into a chair, watching him finish up. It wasn’t easy to keep my hands to myself, when what I really wanted to do was join him at the stove, loop my arms around his waist and rest my cheek against the warm skin on his back. Then I’d slip my hands around to his front, unzip his jeans, spin him around to face me and beg him to take me right there on the counter. Who needed breakfast, anyway? I knew I’d be able to satisfy his hunger in other ways.

  In fact, I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the weekend getting to know him better—in every possible way. And on every possible surface of our home.

  Instead, I watched him carry our plates to the table and settle down in the chair beside me. There was a pile of crisp bacon, fried eggs, perfectly cooked crepes stuffed with strawberries and topped with whipped cream, and orange juice that might have been fresh squeezed.

  “This all looks amazing,” I said, in awe at his efforts. “Thank you.”

  “You are so welcome,” he said.

  But even as we began to eat, I was still having a hard time believing that this was all actually happening and even though I knew it was stupid, I surreptitiously pinched myself. But apparently not surreptitiously enough, because before I knew it, Stefan was laughing.

  “Are you seriously pinching yourself?” he asked. “Don’t you know that’s my job?”

  I laughed along with him and let him pull me into his lap, where he dropped kisses down my neck as his pinched my sides, my hips, and my ass.

  “Stop tickling me!” I panted between giggles, squirming in his arms.

  He pulled his hands back, kissing me on the tip of my nose. “I couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me.”

  “Apology accepted,” I said, finally sliding back into my own chair. I was still laughing a little as he picked up a piece of bacon and fed me a bite.

  “Crispy enough for you?” he asked.

  I nodded. “It’s perfect.” I had no idea he had ever paid such close attention to my breakfast choices, but clearly he had. I wouldn’t eat bacon any other way.

  After that, he insisted on feeding me a few more bites of it, his eyes glazing with lust as I made sure to moan my satisfaction.

  I loved it. I loved having his hands all over me, having him play with me. Touching, teasing, feeding me. How was I ever going to get through breakfast without tossing my napkin down and sliding under the table to show him exactly how glad I was to be married to him?

  “Since when did you learn to cook like this?” I asked, pointing at the golden-brown pile of tightly rolled crepes. They were light, buttery, and the slightest bit crispy. “Crepes are hard.”

  “You’ll find I have many hidden talents,” he said, winking at me.

  “I have no doubt,” I said, flirting back. “I can’t wait to discover the rest of them.”

  I dragged my tongue down the curve of my spoon as I said that, enjoying the way his eyes followed the movement.

  “I have a few ideas of what you could do with that tongue of yours,” he said.

  I went hot, a flush spreading over my skin as his eyes seemed to burn through my robe.

  This was exactly the fun, sexy flirtatious Stefan I had hoped for on my honeymoon. Months later, we finally seemed to have the kind of marriage we both had secretly craved.

  “You’re playing with fire, kitty cat,” Stefan warned as I picked up a ripe, red strawberry from the bowl of fruit and popped it in my mouth.

  “I think you like it when I play with fire,” I teased him.

  His eyes were burning with intense heat as he picked up another strawberry and held it in front of my mouth. I parted my lips and he placed it on my tongue. Closing my mouth around his finger, I made sure to drag my tongue along it as he slowly withdrew his hand.

  “You’re good at that,” Stefan said, his voice thick with lust.

  “I’m learning,” I told him, smirking.

  I wanted to make him break. Wanted to make him push his chair back and pull me into his arms. Wanted him to carry me back to the bedroom where he would rip off my robe and feast on me the same way we were feasting on this breakfast.

  Somehow, we made it through the rest of our meal without tearing each other’s clothes off.

  The moment he pushed his plate away, however, I was more than ready to take our little back and forth flirtation to the bedroom. Looping my arms around his neck, I crawled onto his lap, enjoying the feel of his hot, bare skin against my hands, my robe gaping open as I straddled him. As we kissed I could feel his desire, hard and throbbing behind the seam of his jeans, and I wanted him more than I wanted my next breath.

  But I had also come to a decision since last night—a decision he wasn’t going to like right away. Luckily, I was more than willing to use my powers of persuasion to convince him to see things my way.

  “I want to help you,” I told him as I dropped kisses along his jawline.

  “Mm hmm,” he murmured, his hands busy with the tie of my robe, his fingers already pushing past the fabric to stroke my soft, hot skin.

  It took all my concentration to focus on the task at hand.

  “The women,” I gasped as his hands cupped my breasts. “I want to help you save them.”

  He pulled back and gripped my upper arms, holding my body still.

  “No,” he said, his expression serious. “Absolutely not. You can help by keeping your head down. By staying out of all of this.”

  “But I want to help,” I protested, sliding my hands down his chest, making for his zipper, knowing that I could convince him if I touched him.

  As if he could sense exactly what I was planning, Stefan slid his hands down to my wrists and then pulled them behind me, pinning my arms behind my back. The gesture pushed my breasts forward, a movement I could tell he instantly regretted. And one that I could use to my advantage.

  “Please,” I begged, arching my back, tempting him with my nearly bared breasts.

  “No,” he said firmly, keeping his eyes on my face.

  Fine. If he wasn’t going to look, there were other ways I could tempt him. Wriggling forward, I pressed my pussy against his hard cock. Even through his jeans, he could probably feel how hot and wet I was for him. His jaw tensed and I bit back a wicked smile. He might be holding me, but I still had some control. I ro
cked against him, using my hips to torment him.

  “Think of all the ways I can be an asset to you,” I purred, my lips close to his ear, my body pressed up against his.

  He groaned, his eyes closed.

  “No,” he said, but he wasn’t fighting me.

  “You know I can help.” I licked his earlobe into my mouth. “Between all my newly polished language skills and the fact that I’m a woman myself, I can do things that you can’t do. Learn things you can’t. No one suspects I’m anything other than a trophy wife.”

  I could tell he didn’t like the idea, but I could also tell he loved what I was doing to his cock. Not only could I feel him hot and hard against me, but I knew that if he didn’t like it, he could have pushed me off of his lap at any moment. Instead he was straining against me, clearly eager for more.

  I kissed his throat, dragging my teeth along his hot skin.

  “It’s not just your father who deserves justice,” I told him, my voice husky with emotion. “But mine, too.”

  Because in the end, that’s what I really wanted. For the men who had done this—who had tried to destroy and control not just our lives, but the lives of countless other women over the years—to be brought to justice. To pay. I wanted them to be punished for what they had done.

  “We can do it,” I told Stefan. “We can do it together.”

  Stefan released my arms and captured my mouth in a fierce kiss, his mouth tangling with mine as he pulled me tight against his cock. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he stood, heading toward the door.

  “Say yes,” I begged him, my arms around his neck.

  “I’ll think about it,” he promised.

  And then he carried me into the bedroom, where he proceeded to make me forget about anything but him and his body and the pleasure he could bring me.

  Stefan

  Chapter 28

  I hung up the phone after a long call with a designer watch brand rep and tried to remember what I’d spent the last forty minutes talking about. Glancing at my notes, I saw I’d scribbled the words “modern luxury,” “faces—James Bond-type,” “classy/exotic,” and “multi-function timepieces with sophisticated edge.” That was all I had to go on. But at least it was a start. Matching the right KZM models to our clients’ project needs was my specialty.