The Devil CEO's Contract Wife novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Memento Mori

I turned away too fast and slammed my face right into the wall of glass.

"Fuck!" I cursed, stumbling backwards, but big hands caught my waist and broke my fall.

I rasped as a deep chill kissed my spine. My hand had snappily clutched his for balance. It was cold. I couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or his temperature.

"You should watch where you’re going," he mumbled deeply.

I stepped away from him. "And you should keep your hands to yourself."

"You were distracted there."

"D-Distracted? I have seen tons of naked men." I placed my hands on my waist, seizing him up with my eyes. "And I’m not that impressed."

He raised an eyebrow at my remark, a glow of amusement flickering in those icy blue eyes. I bet no woman has told him that before. I may have bruised his ego.

"No offense."

He closed the distance, and I responded by cautiously backing away. My heart was in my throat when my back met the glass, and I was caged.

Ares braced his arm on the glass behind me and leaned toward my face. "A very worrisome thing to say."

"It’s a fact."

"Those facts can get you in trouble, Ms. Lane."

"I’m entitled to my own opinion, Mr. King."

He held my gaze for what seemed like a minute, and for some reason they made the hairs at the back of my neck stood on alert.

"Speaking about other men in my presence violates the contract."

What the hell?

"How much of last night do you remember?" He switched so quickly.

Is he talking about the empty bottle? How many did I have?

"Haven’t you seen a woman drink before? It’s called fun."

"Hmm... You don’t remember." He stepped away from me and left the gym.

What was that about?

I hurried after him. "I-Is there something I should know?"

He didn’t answer, simply using the small towel to wipe the sweat off his face. Those words in Latin were broadly tattooed on his upper back, following the line of his broad shoulders.

With every movement, his muscles tightened in a way that made my legs weak. Maybe the aftermath of drinking myself to a stupor still affected me.

I’d have really appreciated it if he had worn a shirt or something. Striding in, nothing but sweatpants hanging loosely on his waist was like a recipe for disaster.

I shook my head. God, Catherine! Get a grip on yourself.

I got to the last flight of stairs, following him to the kitchen. He opened the cupboards and went straight to cooking.

I thought a home chef did his meals.

I cleared my throat, sitting on the high stool. "So my guess is you saw the bottle or bottles. Sorry about the mess."

I waited for a reply, but I didn’t get any.

Why was I even speaking?

A soft meow came through, and the black cat walked on the counter. Ares dropped his bowl and poured snacks into it.

"What’s his name?"

"Loki."

Ares was swift as he navigated the kitchen like a pro. I never thought I would see Ares King in all his half-naked glory... cooking. It felt like I had gone incognito.

"Memento Mori—Remember you must die."

He made me breakfast?

"T-Thanks." I skeptically grabbed the cutlery and took a bite. Damn! It tastes so good!

Heavenly.

Was all my spending in vain? Why did I even bother?

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