Everything was a deal until divorce novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Who Am I?

Lucien reminded him quickly, “Sir, you’ve got a business meeting tonight. They’re still waiting.”

“Cancel it.”

Finished

Just as he turned to leave with her in his arms, Isla came out of the restroom. The second she saw a stranger carrying Arden, she rushed forward with a beer bottle in hand like she was ready to fight someone to the death.

Lucien stepped in and blocked her.

Holding the bottle high, Isla shouted bravely, “Who the hell are you? Put Arden down!”

Dorian didn’t even look at her. “Handle it.”

Lucien gave her a deadpan stare. “Miss, that’s Mr. Vale.”

She froze. Mr. Vale?

As in Dorian Vale–the infamous powerbroker from Ardellia, the one they called Mr. Vale in some circles?

As in the husband who vanished the same day he married Arden?

Without another word, Isla tucked the bottle behind her back and bolted.

Girl, your husband is hot, built, and loaded. If he finally crawled back into your bed… well, that’s not exactly a loss.

Arden was the kind of drunk who couldn’t stop making noise. The second she got in the car, she started singing—completely off–key.

Lucien drove nervously, sneaking glances at the rearview mirror.

Dorian sat with his eyes shut, one hand pressed to his temple, practically glued to the car door like he thought she might jump him at any moment. Every inch of him radiated annoyance.

She’s so d*mn loud.

After a long flight and a throbbing headache, his patience finally snapped. He cracked an eye open, voice icy cold. “Arden, can you shut up for five minutes?”

his

Too drunk to register anything, Arden leaned in closer and sang louder.

Dorian had enough. He pulled her into his arms and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe the alcohol had finally worn her out, but she quieted down and rested her head against his chest.

Lucien reached for the divider to give them some privacy,

Dorian shot him a glare. “Who told you to do that?”

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Chapter 2 Who Am 17

Lucien was speechless.

Sorry, boss, just thought–after twenty–seven years of celibacy–maybe you’re about to get lucky, you know?

Dorian shifted her to the seat beside him and snapped, “Drive faster.”

When they got to Silverbay Villa, Arden still hadn’t woken up. Dorian carried her out of the car.

Finished.

Martha had already prepared dinner and soup after getting the heads–up from Eugenia. The staff was lined up neatly at the door.

“Welcome home, sir. Mrs. Vale.”

Dorian didn’t break stride.

Martha hurried to catch up. “You haven’t eaten, sir. Everything’s ready in the dining room.”

He hadn’t, actually. With a quiet grunt, he took Arden upstairs, dumped her on the bed, and came back down for dinner.

Martha was an expert cook, especially when it came to soup. She’d been in the Vale household for years and moved here at Eugenia’s request after Dorian and Arden got married.

Dorian did like her soup, and tonight, without second thought, he picked up the bowl and started drinking.

“Martha,” he said, “go check on her. She’s drunk.”

She hesitated. “Mrs. Vale called earlier. She told us not to interfere–you’re to take care of her yourself.”

Right then, the phone rang again.

Dorian clenched his jaw and answered. “Grandma. You really don’t sleep, do you?”

“I heard Arden’s drunk. Take care of her.”

“That’s it? You called just for that?”

“Oh, and don’t forget–tonight’s your wedding night.”

Dorian was speechless. He hung up.

He rubbed at his temples in the living room for a while before heading back upstairs. Martha stopped him at the stairs, holding out another cup.

“She’s still drunk, sir. This will help with the hangover.”

He took the cup from her.

As he walked up, Martha quickly ducked into her room and pulled out her phone. “Mrs. Vale, he drank the soup, and he’s taking the hangover remedy to her now.”

Eugenia let out a happy sigh. “Excellent. Now let’s just hope his aim’s good enough. If it is, I might be

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Chapter 2 Who Am 17

shopping for baby clothes soon.”

Finished

She lowered her voice. “And Martha, make sure you throw out whatever’s left. Dorian’s sharp. We can’t have him figuring anything out.”

“Of course.”

Dorian fed Arden the drink. Afterward, he went to shower. When he came out in a robe, he planned to sleep in the study. But Arden started mumbling again, whining and squirming.

The meds Martha used were strong.

She kicked the blanket off, tugged at her clothes, and kept whispering how hot and thirsty she was.

Dorian walked over, grabbed the blanket, and covered her up.again. Even though it was summer, the AC was blasting. She’d catch a cold like that.

He hadn’t been home in three years. Tomorrow he had to visit the manor. If Arden showed up sick, he’d get an earful from his grandma–and probably his parents too.

The thought alone irritated him. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to adjust the blanket again.

Arden’s hands shot out and latched onto his. Cold… nice.

Like vines, she wrapped herself around him.

Her skin was so pale it almost glowed. His eyes darkened.

The dosage Martha gave him was even stronger than hers. Right now, desire burned through his veins like wildfire.

When she clung to him, he stilled.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes narrowing. He tilted her face toward his with one hand, his voice hoarse. “Arden, look at me. Do you know who I am?”

She kissed him, clumsy and uncertain. He pulled back, and she blinked up at him–eyes shining like glass, lips curved in a soft smile.

“You’re my husband,” she whispered. “Dorian Vale.”

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