Chapter 1
I’m night blind. On our wedding night, my husband ditched me to go see his ex-and sent his friend to take his place in bed.
They thought I’d never know.
Joke’s on them. I got my vision back months ago.
The bedroom door creaked open. I walked out of the bathroom, towel still in my hair, rubbing it dry as I called out, “Honey?”
Lysander Pierce-my husband’s best friend-stood frozen in the doorway. I watched his throat work, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down.
I stretched my hand forward, fingers grasping at nothing, playing blind.
He crossed the room in three strides and caught my arm. My palm slid up his chest-hard muscle under thin fabric. Before I could even fake a stumble, he yanked me against him. His mouth crashed onto mine, hungry, devouring.
My silk nightgown slipped off my shoulders and pooled at my feet. One swift turn and my back hit the mattress.
His kiss stole every breath from my lungs. Only when his lips dragged down to my neck could I finally gasp for air.
Right when I thought he’d go further, he suddenly pulled back and dropped onto the bed beside me, flat on his back.
I traced my fingers over the ridges of his abs. “Tired from today?”
silence.
let my hand drift lower. “Honey…” I paused, letting the word hang. “You can get it up, can’t you?”
The second that last word left my lips, he flipped back on top of me in one swift motion-and tore through that final barrier. A sharp cry escaped me.
He seemed startled by my reaction. His movements turned gentler, more careful. But once a man gets a taste, there’s no stopping him. My back, my highs-everything ached by the time he was done.
Dawn was already breaking when he finally slipped into the bathroom. The shower ran, water drumming against tile. I was too wrecked to even open my eyes. Through the haze, I felt his fingers brush the damp hair from my forehead.
hen-a soft kiss pressed to my temple.
When I woke, the bed was empty. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand-11:46 AM.
One unread message.
Asshole: Saw you were still sleeping this morning, didn’t want to wake you. Something came up at the overseas branch. Board’s sending me abroad for a nonth. Take care of yourself. I’ll miss you.]
let out a cold laugh. Business trip, my ass. My so-called newlywed husband was off on his honeymoon-with his precious first love.
ust yesterday, right after the ceremony ended, I’d slipped into the dressing room to change into my toast dress.
When I stepped back out, I heard my groom Doria Finch’s voice echoing from around the corner-laughing with his boys.
One of them said, “Damn, Doria’s got it all figured out. Married here, honeymoon abroad…”
smiled, about to walk over, when Lysander’s voice cut through. “If you’ve got a first love waiting, why’d you even marry Kristine?”
First love?
My heart clenched. My feet rooted to the floor.
Doria had his back to me, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders loose. “Lily’s the one who got away. Who the hell forgets their first love? She came back-of course I’m taking her back.”
“As for Kristine…” He shrugged. “She’s family-oriented, loyal, perfect wife material. Plus she’s educated, young, already a Sterling Group executive. Landed me a
massive deal. Huge boost for my career. But I can’t lose Lily either. So-wedding first. Give Kristine that security she’s desperate for.”
My blood turned to ice. Lysander seemed to glance toward my direction.
I ducked behind a pillar just as he said, his voice tight, “So you’re planning to have your cake and eat it too?”
Another guy laughed. “Hey, Lysander, chill out. Our boy Doria’s just… keeping both girls on the hook.”
Doria snorted. “Alright, enough. Lily’s waiting at the airport-can’t keep her waiting.”
Lysander’s tone sharpened. “You’re seriously ditching your bride right now?”
Doria waved him off. “Relax. She’s got night blindness-can’t see shit once it gets dark. One of you just needs to fill in for me tonight. Go through the motions.”
Someone hesitated. “I don’t know, man… she’s still your wife. Feels kinda messed up.”
Doria clapped Lysander on the shoulder.
“Lysander, you’re about my size. Just act drunk, slip out before sunrise. She’ll never know.”

Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.

 
	 
 
		 
		 
		 
		 
		