The rooftop balcony was beautiful. The early fall sun displayed beautiful colours, only rivalled by a painting. No—no form of art could capture the brilliance of the twilight sky. “If anyone bothers us, I’ll make them regret it—damn sick of being poked and prodded by people who can’t mind their own business.”

“Thanks.” Delia offers a weak smile.

“My grandfather gave me the worst pep-talk ever. I assume your grandmother did the same.”

“It wasn’t a pep talk, just more excuses why—never mind. Like it matters now.” Delia dismisses the subject. “What did Milo say?”

“He told me it’s my job to make you happy.”  

“It’s not your job. You can’t force another person to feel a certain way.”

“Yup,” Theo leans on the ivory wall. “If you’re still miserable, we can file for a divorce. Granted we’ll have to wait a few years, but you can keep the money…and I’ll stay on as a shareholder.”

“I wasn’t saying that I was miserable with you, but…if you want to divorce…who am I to stop you?” An odd pang hits Delia’s stomach. She surprises herself when she realizes she wants anything but to divorce Theo.   

“It makes no difference to me if I’m married or not.” He shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “But as I said before, it’s better that you’re pretty—and motivated. I’ve got a reasonably good business sense if you want help with your eatery.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I didn’t attempt to help. You want to make a name for yourself, yeah? I can help you do that as an influencer.” This…is the happiest that Delia had been in days. She turns to him, giving him a genuine hug. She doesn’t know what to say, silently squeezing him instead.

Theo’s cheeks redden at the contact, but he smiles, “I’m not done. I suggest that we add pepper to the menu.” Delia eases off the hug, tilting her chin up to glare at him. “What? I guarantee that it’ll boost sales if you give it a chance.”

“Pepper…” Delia says coolly.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Pepper…” It’s as the word has her properly ensnared.

“We’ve established that is exactly what I had said…pepper.”

“You’ll willingly sell pepper in my shop but scoff at the idea of children.” Oh god, Delia did not mean to say that.

“I don’t like babies all that much.” Theo shrugs. “You said you won’t have kids unless you’re in love with the father—I remember that much. A wise decision. Grandfather wants us to have kids—but that’s hardly a good reason to.” Theo ponders briefly. “It’d be nice if we could find something to like about each other, don’t you think?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“It’s not that surprising of a question. It’d make things a lot easier if we were amorous instead of spiteful, you know?” She wasn’t expecting Theo to say such things so easily. A telltale blush showed that those thoughts weren’t at the cost of his dignity. “I think it’s best if I stop talking.”

“No—I like it.” She offers a small smile. “It’s nice knowing that you think about our future.”

“Even if it means that you have to deal with pepper?”

She briefly shudders, but nods. “As for the deed—I’m sure we’ll have one of those kidnappers approaching us soon about it now that we are married. I’ve appreciated that they kept their distance—although that makes me more suspicious.” She’d rather them just disappear but she knows that’s not possible.

“I don’t care if they’re tapping us, as long as they stay out of our lives physically.” His hand squeezes hers. “But, if we don’t go down, I’m afraid that Grandfather’s going to think that we ran away. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of his nagging.”

“Maybe we should get two islands then.” Delia chuckles, feeling much better.

“You want to live on an island with me?” He looks amused.

“It’s better than having your grandfather breathing down our backs.” She says without malice. “But you’re right. Let’s head back before we stir any further suspicion.” In truth, she’d prefer to stay on the balcony with him—or share a kiss—but it’d be out of place. It doesn’t stop Delia from wanting to, but she withholds her urges. She’s not sure how much she can take of this emotional roller coaster.

She can’t stop staring.

Delia steals glances when Theo turns his back; he’s whittling at his desk. The reception had ended, and both were tired of talking to strangers. Delia had taken off her dress and hung it on the door—thankful to be out of such a restrictive outfit. Her bedclothes were a relief from the constricting fabric. Theo hasn’t said anything to her since the reception ended, but it's not a surprise. A jarring thought hits her mind. Should she…make a move? Delia wants to. She wants to kiss him again. And if he's so good at that—what else was he capable of making her feel?

But she couldn’t tell him that—it’s too daring.

“Theo?” He doesn’t say anything, the whittling sound fills the silence of the room. “Hey!”

“What?”

“I was thinking we could talk.”

“About?”

“I don’t know—the type of island we want? Milo asked me but you left by then.”

“Doesn’t matter to me—it’s not like we’re going to live there.” This was true, but he could at least pretend to care. “Next time tell him to choose—he’s surprisingly talented at finding good properties.”

This wasn’t the type of conversation Delia was aiming for, but it got him talking—even if it was only for a minute. She lies on the bed, her hands spread out.  

“Can you come here?” She asks.

“No, busy.”

Delia rolls her eyes. “With?”

“Carving.”

Delis lets out a frustrated sigh. She’s got to take matters into her own hands—even if it means hopping out of bed and doing just that. She takes a few deep breaths before she rests her hands on his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He asks but doesn’t move.

“I was thinking…we could, maybe, get better acquainted?” Delia smiles. “Since we are…married.” Theo irks in place, the knife making quicker scraping noises against the wood. Oh, so he was going to ignore her, was he? She backs off, placing a finger on her lip as she looks for his dresser.  If her memory served her correctly, he couldn’t resist her in his turtleneck sweater. She slips off her bedclothes, pulling the sweater over her. It barely covers her butt, but that was the idea. She walks over to him, her grin wide as he tilts his head; his amber eyes quickly look her up and down before he squeezes them shut. His fiery cheeks indicate how he really feels.

“The hell are you doing?!”

“Humph, you liked it last time.”

“Get out of my sweater, now.” He stands up, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Why? It’s more comfortable than what I was wearing. ” She's never seen a man so conflicted in her life, as he grabs the neck of the sweater to pull her closer.

“What kind of a game are you playing.” Delia begins to fluster. She’s never played the part of a seductress.  “The hell’s gotten into you?”

“You said it yourself, it’s better for us to be amorous.” Her face burns alongside her boldness. God, what was she doing?  

Theo’s tone lowers, “I wasn’t tryna get a free lay…” She doesn’t see his gaze linger on her.

This was backfiring terribly. “You know—you’re right. I should change.”

The fire in his golden eyes is reignited, his hand wanders along the curve of her hipbone. “Maybe I was being hasty,” his grumble is more of a purr. “You look pretty damn good in it.”

Delia sucks in her breath, her lips are inches away from his. Was she ready to concede? Theo leans Delia against his desk, brushing his current projects aside. She follows his lead, her eyes locked with his. Delia feels his warm hand glide along her thigh, running up the edge of the sweater, her mind buzzing with anticipation as he lifts the fabric over her stomach. His mouth moves to hers as he lightly nibbles her lip with his teeth. She lets out a gasp; her hands comb his thick yet silky hair. His fingers looped around her beige undergarment, sliding it down to her knees, A coy smile reaches his lips—he knows what he's doing. He says nothing as he lowers his head to her stomach, inching downward. He better not talk, or she’ll kill him…

A loud clatter brings them both to attention, whipping their heads to the window. Delia screams, almost kicking Theo over as he stands defensively in front of her. Those bastards couldn’t give her a damn break! Delia grabs the ends of the turtleneck back down to her waist as she kicks her panties under the desk—she must save her dignity.  

“Oh god—sorry—listen!” The smooth male voice speaks. “You know I can’t come through the door—”

Wait a minute…Oli? Delia confirms that’s who she’s heard as she watches Theo grabs the man’s collar.

“Your fucking coworkers are tormenting us, and I wanna know why.” He demands, readying himself for a sock in the face. 

“Bro—bro, calm down…chill out, let me talk.”  Theo grunts before throwing his hands down, letting Oli walk free. He’s still wearing the same crab shirt from yesterday—he must have been camping outside the manor. “I had no idea that you were involved with them—I was only hanging around because Deel’s here—but I had to sneak in when I overheard what was going on. You know Gramps would have my ass if I came through the front door.”

“I know—so out with it—what does your gang want with us?” Theo’s tense—he’s angry. Delia can relate—this was just as much Delius’s fault as it was Oli’s. His golden eyes burned with intensity. “Tell your gang to back off.”

“You know I can’t—I’m not a part of that world anymore. I went straight—in a matter of speaking.” Oli coughs. “But I wouldn’t have interrupted this,” his hand gestures to Delia—her face scorches with humiliation, “if it wasn’t important. They’re not gonna let you go, even when you give them the deed.”

“Fucking figures…” Theo growls. Delia’s stomach drops as she looks to the ground. Her head feels woozy.

“They want to extort Delia for money—in exchange for keeping the Firthe scandal under wraps.”

“But why? We were already at the brink of ruin.” It’s why she got married in the first place, although she doesn’t need to say that part. “We already had a scandal.”

“No, this is much worse than tampered customer information.” Oli looks pained. “They know who sold the credit card information.”

"Who?" Delia asks weakly. Who was the person who tore their business—no—their family apart. Who was the individual who put her in this compromising arrangement?! 

“I…promised not to tell anyone when I found out—I tried to get rid of the evidence, but it wasn’t enough.”

Theo’s impatience takes over. “Stop meandering and out with it already!”

Oli says carefully, “It’s either Delia hands over her shares, or, they reveal that it was Delius who sold the data.”