Beginning Monday night at the Beach Club, I was introduced to his friends and associates. Never once did he hint that our union was anything other than what it appeared. We were the topic of conversation, not only in Miami, but also around the country. Even the television gossip programs talked at length about the unlikely pairing. Of course, pictures with my engagement ring went viral. News of the wedding had yet to hit the press, but Stewart had no doubt it would be front-page news by Friday morning. That was why he’d decided upon a Thursday evening wedding. Our nuptials would hit the wire before the weekend, making an impact before being lost in the end of the week drivel.
Though I’d kept my word and hadn’t begged for his cock, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Since Sunday night, I’d reached higher heights with Stewart than I knew existed. He’d gone down on me multiple times. It was everything he offered with his fingers and more. I didn’t fight to journey to the top of the mountain, because falling off was my reward for the hard-felt expedition. When his tongue and fingers worked together, no matter how hard my hips bucked or my thighs squeezed, I was helpless against the precipice that exploded and sent me falling, not in one piece, but in a million shards to a cushion of sedation. Though he liked to watch as I began the journey on my own, not once had I seen what lay beneath his slacks. Each time I reached for his hidden erection my curiosity grew, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I did as he’d predicted and begged. My goal was to make it to our wedding.
The night before our departure for Belize, Stewart came home from his office earlier than usual. Lisa was out and I was sitting by the pool with Susan, completing the final arrangements on another order of clothing. This one was a special selection of designer casual dresses, ones that Lisa proclaimed were a necessity for my everyday activities.
Stewart’s booming voice echoed across the rooftop pool as we both looked up to see him approach. Though he wore his custom suit and his blonde hair fell perfectly styled over his brow, the expression he wore was unlike one I’d ever seen. “Where the fuck is your phone?”
Susan’s eyes widened as I looked around the table, moving magazines and sketches, I replied, “I-I don’t know. In my room?”
Eyeing Susan, Stewart’s demeanor shifted. “Ms. Jennings, I believe your services are no longer required today. Please contact my wife after we arrive home from our honeymoon.”
“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” she replied, standing and collecting her material from the table.
“Victoria, come to my office, now.” With that, he was gone from the pool deck in a cloud of regal perfection and fury.
“Miss?” Susan inquired once we were alone, her eyes peeking questionably toward mine.
I wanted to assure her that everything was fine, yet I didn’t know. Nevertheless, I smiled and nodded encouragingly: perhaps in an attempt to reassure myself. “Thank you, Susan. I’ll see you in a week. Do you need me to see you out?”
She forced a smile. “No. If you have any last-minute concerns over this order, you have my number.”
“I’m pretty sure the order is just fine,” I replied.
I’d faced my parents’ wrath on more occasions than I could count; I could face Stewart’s. In some ways he’d been kinder to me than they ever had. Whatever was upsetting him, I believed I could handle. That, however, didn’t lessen the anxiety that grew with each step as I made my way toward his office. When I entered, I asked, “Stewart, what—”
He reeled at the sound of my voice. “Did you find your goddamn phone?”
“No.” My neck straightened. Though his clenched jaw and darkened expression filled me with dread, I was about to be his wife, and I didn’t appreciate his tone. “I came to your goddamn office. That’s what you said.”
He paced behind his desk. “I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s the fucking purpose of having a damn phone if you’re not going to have it near?”
“Stewart,” I slowed my rebuttal. “What happened? Why have you been trying to reach me?”
“I tried the apartment phone. I couldn’t even fucking reach anyone here. I finally got through to Ms. Madison, but as you know she is out and couldn’t reach you either.”
“You’re here now. What is it?”
His expression of anger morphed into one of uncertainty. “I paid the fucking money. I did it. Travis delivered it on Monday.”
What money? My mind spun: so much had happened in such a short time.
“Victoria, your stepfather’s in the hospital.”
My knees gave way to a wave of nausea. That money. I hadn’t called Randall or my mother. I’d been too caught up and busy, and to be honest, I liked the idea of making them sweat. “Hospital? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Get your purse. We’re heading over to Memorial.”
Blankly, I nodded, trying with all my might to hide the fear rippling through me. Oh my God. If he died, it would be another death on me.
On the way to Memorial, I checked my messages. There were multiple text messages and voicemails from Stewart, some from Val, and one voicemail from my mother. I listened, not putting it on speakerphone.
“Why? Why Victoria? Do you hate us this much? Randall’s at Memorial Hospital.”
I looked to Stewart. “My mother’s message doesn’t tell us anymore than you already know. She only said he’s at the hospital.”