“I won’t be going to work tomorrow,” he says. “I’m on paid leave.”
I shoot up, facing him. “What? Why?”
“Someone reported us.” Even in the dark, I see his jaw flex and tense.
“Reported us for what?”
“Beginning a sexual relationship with a client during representation is grounds for attorney discipline,” he says. “Anyone can report it to the state bar association. All claims have to be investigated. Paid leave is protocol at our firm.”
“What’s going to happen next?”
Derek exhales, his mouth twisting at the side. “Best case scenario, I’m privately reprimanded. Worst case, I’m temporarily disbarred. Or barred altogether.”
“Jesus, Derek.” My fingers tremble, lifting to my lips. “This is all my fault.”
“I won’t get barred,” he says.
“How do you know?”
“Sleeping with you violates the Model Code and Model Rules, but it’s not grounds for disbarment. They like to throw that in to scare people.”
“Could you get temporarily disbarred?”
“Maybe.” He repositions the pillows behind him, suddenly growing uncomfortable. “More than likely, I’ll face a public censure. They’ll issue me a written reprimand to go in my file at the firm, and it’ll be a public record. Anyone searching my name or requesting my file will have access to the letter. They’ll know what I did.”
“That’s just as bad. This is going to follow you the rest of your career.” I’ve never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Derek. I just wanted to have fun with you. I didn’t know it would lead to all of this . . .”
“I tried to warn you.” He takes my hand, bringing it to his lips and depositing a kiss. When he pulls me against him, he nestles into my hair, his breath warm against my ear. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Serena. What’s done is done.”
Derek is out within minutes, but I can’t bring myself to relax. My mind busies itself with guilt-ridden thoughts that refuse to disappear.
He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, but behind that dreamy façade is a man going through hell . . .
. . . all because of me.
My stomach churns, twisting, sinking. I’m sick over what I’ve done to him. He had an amazing career ahead of him, and I ruined it all like some permanent black mark he never deserved.
I trace my finger down the outline of his jaw, delicately graze his full lips, and then run it down the straight bridge of his perfect nose.
I can see myself with this man. I can see myself marrying him, having his babies, settling in the outskirts of some beautiful, sleepy little town like Rixton Falls. I can see myself being happy for the first time in forever.
When I look at Derek Rosewood, I see my own, personal knight in shining armor and the happily ever after I never thought I’d know.
But none of it matters.
I destroyed this man out of selfishness.
I broke down his impenetrable walls like they were nothing, all because I was curious and lonely and craving a distraction.
I convinced him to violate his professional ethics, and now he’s paying the ultimate price.
I could have loved this man so hard.
And maybe I was well on my way . . .
But none of that matters now.
He doesn’t need my baggage. He doesn’t need to be with someone who doesn’t know what she wants or where she’s going half the time. He would never want to set foot in my big city, paparazzi life anyway, and I wouldn’t subject him to it.
Tonight was a mistake—a delicious, reckless mistake.
But it can’t happen again.
Derek deserves better than me. He deserves more than I can give him. He deserves a woman who won’t bend him until he breaks because it’s all she’s ever done to any man who dared to show her an ounce of affection.
“Goodbye, Derek.” I whisper a final farewell to the most beautiful man I’ve ever known and slip out in the dead of night.
Chapter 35
Derek
Two Months Later
Droplets of rain splatter against the windshield of my rented stretch Town Car, and my driver flicks on the wipers. They screech against the glass, so I raise the privacy panel, my jaw tensing in anticipation for what’s to come.
Outside the Tweed courthouse in Manhattan, various members of the Associated Press gather under black umbrellas.
I keep an eye on the main doors, looking for the girl who fucking obliterated my heart not once, but twice.
Yesterday morning, I came across an online article about Veronica Kensington-Randall and the alleged estate fraud. Apparently, after Serena ran out on me, she returned to the city and hired one hell of an attorney who wasted no time putting together the case against Serena’s stepmother.
According to the articles, there are multiple testimonies from former staffers, as well as cooperative statements from Keir Montgomery, Eudora Darcy, and Julia May. The doctor, Kevin Rothbart, who assisted Veronica, lost his license, but he got out of jail time in exchange for testifying against the evil bitch.
Today’s the day of her arraignment, and I’m one hundred percent certain Serena is here with her attorney.
The flash of cameras grabs my attention as a group of suits flees the courthouse and enters the swarm of media.
I spot her within seconds, her fiery red mane standing out amongst a sea of black.
Climbing out of my car, I lift my hand in the air and call her name. I watch as her eyes scan the street in search of my familiar voice.
When our eyes meet, I half expect her to run. She’s amazingly good at that. But instead, her full lips arch into a half-smile and the world seems to stop.
The media frenzy fades into the background, and the flashes of cameras don’t bother me. All I see is her.
I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. Two months, to be precise.
But I thought it’d be different.
I thought I’d be angry, charging at her only to berate her for ruining the one good thing she and I have ever known.
Instead, I stand here like some lovesick moron, trying to remember the way her lips used to feel on mine. Craving the softness of her hair tangled in my fingers. The cave of her naked belly under my touch. The sound of her breath in my ear, begging for more, sighing my name.
With an umbrella over her head, she maneuvers through the crowd and comes my way.
“What are you doing here?” Her eyes shimmer even on a cloudy June morning like this.
“I read about the arraignment online,” I say. “Thought you could use some support.”
Her lips bunch at the corners.
“That, and I’ve been trying to track you down for fucking months.” I move closer to her, and she lifts the umbrella over both of us. I take it from her, folding it up and pulling open the passenger door to my limo.
“Get in.”
She stands perfectly still, the heels of her red-bottomed shoes practically digging into the pavement as a crowd of people swarm us.
“Serena, is everything okay?” A man pushes through the crowd, making his way to her side. He looks familiar, and just as her expression falls, I realize why.
“Yes, Keir,” she says, brows furrowed.
“I came,” he says. Two men in black suits and glasses flank his sides. “I wanted to support you. I was hoping we could talk. Maybe go somewhere? Just us? I’ve been trying to reach you . . . your attorney said you were out of the country.”
I can’t believe this asshole has the audacity to try and steal her right from under me, and I’ll be damned if I allow it.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guide her closer to my car and toss him a glare for good measure.
“She’s coming with me,” I announce.
Keir steps closer, sensing his opportunity slipping. “Serena, if you need anything, I’m here. I’d love to talk. You need closure. We need closure.”
“Get in.” I n
od toward the car.
She looks at him, then to me. Apparently she deems me the lesser of two evils because after a moment of contemplation, she climbs in.
“Do you hate me?” Her eyes search mine as soon as I take the spot beside her.
“No.”
How could I?
“I had to leave.” She folds her hands in her lap, staring down as she answers the question two months of sleepless nights couldn’t make sense of. “I’d done enough damage. You deserved better. We were careless. Reckless. You and me together was a dangerous combination.”
“Dangerous?”
“Yes. We were making exceptions. Breaking our own rules.” She sighs. “Your career was on the line because of what we did. We weren’t thinking.”
A horde of paparazzi flock around us, their camera flashes trying to penetrate the dark windows that envelope us.
“And then there’s all of this.” She points. “Being with me means you’ll be living your life under a microscope. You don’t deserve that. You deserve a quiet little life in Rixton Falls, away from the circus freak show my life has become.”
“Do you care about me, Serena?” My nostrils flare as I exhale.
“Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”
“Then why wouldn’t you allow me to make that decision for myself?” My fingertips lift to my temples as I glance out the window, seeing past the cameras and shouting photographers. “I can ignore those fleabags. They don’t bother me. What bothers me is when someone takes it upon themselves to steal my God-given right to make my own life decisions.”
She folds her arms, looking past me. “All right. Fair enough. But I won’t apologize for doing what I thought was right in that moment. I only had your best interests at heart, and I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
“Where have you been?” I ask the next question that’s been burning my soul the last eight weeks.
“A little cottage outside London,” she says. “It’s where I go to get away.”
“Stop. Fucking. Running. Every time things get hard.” I’m seething, but I don’t care. She doesn’t seem the least bit frightened of me. “Come home, Serena.”
“Home?” She snorts, giving me an incredulous leer. “And where might that be?”
“With me.” I take her hand in mine, running my thumb along her smooth, polished nails in the most opulent shade of cashmere gray I’ve ever seen. “You belong in Rixton Falls. With me. With Haven. With my family. We want you there. You are wanted there, Serena.”
She glances out the window, keeping her hand in mine, and I watch as her stare glasses over.
“Isn’t that what you’re looking for? Some direction in life? A place to belong? People who won’t use you or shit all over you for the sake of a goddamned gossip story?” I state my case. “I’m here to tell you, you’ve found it. You needn’t look any further. Because, Serena, you belong with me.”
Serena returns her stare to mine, her shoulders sinking as she exhales.
“You have to understand,” she says, “if you want to be with me, life as you’ve known it will never be the same again.”
I don’t hesitate. “Life hasn’t been the same since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Taking her other hand, I pull her into my lap as the driver pulls into traffic.
“And I don’t think I could go back if I tried,” I say. “Matter of fact, I don’t want to go back. Whatever was broken inside me began to heal because of you.”
I lift my hand to the side of her cheek, guiding her lips against mine.
“I haven’t said this in a very long time.” My lips move against hers between kisses. “But, Serena, somewhere along the line, I fell in love with everything about you.”
I feel her smile, her fingers digging into the nape of my neck as she peels herself away and looks into my eyes. “I love you too.”
“Come home with me.” I don’t ask. I demand. Because I sure as hell didn’t come all the way to New York fucking City to take “no” for an answer.
“I don’t know.” Her answer comes in the form of an exhausted sigh.
“What don’t you know?”
“I don’t know if I’m what you need.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” I lean closer. “And besides, I’m telling you. You are what I need. You’re the only thing I need.”
Toying with her bottom lip, she takes in a long, cool sip of air and nods. “Yes. I’ll come home with you, Derek.”
“Promise me one thing,” I say.
“Anything.” Golden-red hair curtains her sweet face, but all I see is her glimmering blue gaze in the dim back seat.
“When things get hard, and you know they will, because I’ll admit I’m not the easiest asshole to love,” I say. “Whatever you do, don’t run.”
“I promise.”
“No bullshit either. No walls. Just you and me against the world. We’ll figure things out together when they get hard.”
“I like that.” She steals a sweet kiss before resting her head on my shoulder. “It’s exactly what I need.”
I run my palms up the sides of her thighs, gripping her perfect ass and taking her lower lip between my teeth.
“I can’t wait to get you home. Where you belong. In our bed.” My words are a throaty growl. My cock is a ticking time bomb. “You’re the most magnificent thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, Serena. And I’m never going to let you go.”
Epilogue
Serena
Five Years Later
The crunch of gravel beneath tires signals Derek’s return from the firm. It’s half past five. Dinner’s in the oven, and the girls are running around the back yard, chasing butterflies and giggling.
Haven is an amazing big sister to Hadley, and the two of them are inseparable on the best of days. On the worst of days, they bicker like all sisters do, and it’s all we can do to keep from laughing.
He’s so good with them too. He understands them. And he’s patient and wise and tenderhearted. They’re just as lucky to call him their father as I am to call him my husband.
Derek is used to the girl fights, and judging by some of the stories he has about his younger sisters, I can see why.
Me, I love the noise. The chaos. The laughter. The tears. I wouldn’t trade it for anything because this—this is what life is really about.
My husband of four years strides across the lawn of our restored farmhouse, stopping to kiss sweet baby Harper in my arms before kissing the top of my head.
“Hello, my love,” I say. I’m incapable of frowning in his presence, because after all that has happened, Derek Rosewood is still my happiness.
No one has ever fought for me the way he has. He was there through it all. The ups and downs. He stuck by me after the claims against him were substantiated, and he never blamed me once when he received a private reprimand. He was cheering by my side when Veronica pled guilty at her trial and when the judge refused to honor her attorney’s request for a reduced prison sentence. Derek was also there when Veronica left my father after the trial, when she realized she wasn’t getting a single red penny from the estate, and he was there the day my father passed peacefully at a nearby hospice center.
We’re richer than sin. Our accounts are filled with hundreds of millions of dollars—which we intend on mostly giving away. But our love? This beautiful life we’ve created? It’s priceless.
“What’s for dinner?” he asks.
“Lasagna,” I say. “Bliss’s recipe. Demi and Royal are stopping by too. I told Kyla not to come by until after seven. I want Haven to have a good meal before her weekend with her mom.”
Shortly after Derek and I made things official, he pursued full custody of Haven and won. I’d never seen the Rosewoods so happy, but I think the happiest little soul was Haven. She belongs with Derek.
With both of us.
“Appreciated.” He smiles, staring at me like he just won the lottery. But it’s nothing new. He’s been doing
it since the day he proposed to me at the Mariposa waterfall over four years ago.
“What?” I ask.
“Why are you so good to me?” Derek leans in, stealing a kiss. I’m sure I taste like red sauce and garlic, but he doesn’t complain.
“Daddy, Daddy!” My red-headed Mini-Me, Hadley, runs up to Derek, breathless, and wraps her three-year-old arms around his legs.
He sets his briefcase on the ground and scoops her up. Her little limbs wrap his neck and she kisses his cheek just as nine-year-old Haven pummels into his side, almost causing Derek to lose his footing.
“Hi, Daddy.” Haven hugs his side, and he ruffles her feathery blonde hair. “We missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby.” He pulls her close, his gaze returning to mine. “I missed all of you.”
“We love you, Daddy.” Haven brushes her face against his suit jacket, beaming a gap-toothed smile.
“I love you too,” he says. “Let’s head in. Go get washed up for dinner. Aunt Demi and Uncle Royal are going to be here soon.”
The sun sets early on this late autumn Friday, painting the sky in warm pinks and oranges and yellows. It wasn’t until I moved to the country that I earned a newfound appreciation for sunsets.
I’ve realized, over the past five years, that there were many things I’d missed out on in my life. The smell of rain on country grass. The burst of unobstructed sunlight filtering through shades early in the morning. Leisurely strolls and neighborly waves. Cooking delicious meals from scratch because it’s more convenient than ordering takeout from a trendy restaurant with a two-hour wait.
Derek’s arm hooks into my elbow, and he stops me to steal a quick kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers, his lips against mine.
“I love you more.”
The five of us file inside, where our snoring pug, Munch, sleeps in his bed by the fireplace. The kitchen is scented with my sweet mother-in-law’s lasagna, and the girls impatiently take their places as Derek gently places a very sleepy Harper in her bassinette.
Demi and Royal pull up just in time, and the girls leave the table and run to the door to greet them with giggles and squeals. They can hardly wrap their arms around Demi’s swelling belly with her due date just around the corner. They’re expecting a little boy any day now, and they’re planning to call him Beckett, and the girls have been having a blast picking out plush frogs and blue onesies for Demi’s baby shower next weekend.
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