Marriage with His Uncle!

Hide and kiss

"Who was it?" Nash asked, his tone curious.

"My makeup artist," I said, the lie rolling off my tongue as smoothly as a river stone. "She's calling me in for a final trial before the wedding."

Nash's brow furrowed. "Didn't you already have one with her? Why do you need another trial?"

"I'm a woman, Nash," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "We change our minds at the last minute." I gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "I saw another makeup look that I think will fit me better, so I want to try it out. I'm only getting married once, so it needs to be perfect."

Ironically, my words aligned perfectly with my current situation, a bitter truth I didn't fully comprehend at the time. I was, in fact, changing my mind at the last minute—not about my makeup, but about my entire life.

My joke seemed to relax him, and a teasing smirk replaced his frown. "You wouldn't change your mind about me last minute, would you?" he asked, a hint of playful security in his voice. He was so confident that I would never leave him, so convinced that his hold on me was absolute. It was nauseating, his smugness in the face of my pain.

"Never," I lied, the word feeling heavy and sour on my tongue, a stark contrast to the light kiss he placed on my forehead moments later. He called an Uber for me, and I drove straight to the Grey mansion, my mind a tangled mess of emotions.

I didn't realize that my primary focus should be on the logistical nightmare of sneaking into Luther’s room. With Kylie out of town, I couldn't use her as a reason for my visit. And to make things worse, Luther's room was on the opposite side of the house from the main entrance, so I couldn't just casually stroll to his room without someone seeing me.

I couldn't tell them the truth, either. I had meticulously avoided any interaction with Luther in front of the family, and to suddenly show up to meet him, and that too at his door would raise all kinds of red flags. The wedding was so close that the rest of the family would blame him for creating a scandal. As much as I was still reeling from our conversation, I didn't want him to get into trouble because of me.

After carefully mapping out my plan, I circled the mansion and crept toward the back door. It was a risky move, but Luther's room was much closer from this side, drastically reducing my chances of getting caught compared to a grand entrance at the front. With a deep breath, I turned the knob and slipped inside.

The air inside was still and cool, the silence of the massive house almost eerie. I peeked around the corner, my heart pounding in my ears, checking for any signs of life. The coast seemed clear. I took a tentative step, then another, tiptoeing across the polished marble floor. Each footfall was unnervingly loud in the quiet house, and I imagined every shadow was a member of the Grey family waiting to pounce.

I was already halfway to his room, my heart rate finally beginning to steady. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, but I knew I had sighed way too soon. I could feel it in my bones.

Just as I reached the hallway that housed the grand staircase leading to Luther's room, I heard voices. Two voices, in fact, chattering and getting closer, descending the stairs. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of pure panic. I froze, my eyes darting around the expansive space, searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide. There was nowhere to go. I was completely exposed.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and yanked to the space below the stairs. I gasped, stumbling into a tight embrace.

I stared at Luther, my eyes wide with panic. He was flush against me, his body pressing me into the cold wall beneath the stairs. But while I was terrified, he seemed completely at ease, almost relaxed. His expression was a stark contrast to the frantic terror that must have been written all over my face.

I looked up, my gaze landing on the bare legs of the maids and the soles of their shoes as they descended the floating staircase. The angle was so strange and intimate that I felt like a pervert, and I quickly averted my eyes, a hot blush creeping up my neck. My heart was lodged in my throat, a frantic bird desperate to escape. I was terrified, utterly and completely terrified, that we would be caught—and in such a compromising position, no less.

I was trapped, unable to move or even push him away for fear of making a noise that would draw the maids' attention. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately praying for them to pass by without a second thought. But luck, as it seemed, was not on my side.

A voice, crisp and commanding, halted the maids on the stairs. It was my mother-in-law, her voice echoing through the silent mansion as she descended the stairs, giving them orders about some mundane household task. My stomach dropped. We were done for.

The situation couldn't have gotten any worse. My stomach was in knots, and I was so close to tears, cursing my own recklessness. All of this, just for a stupid dress and a necklace I didn't even want, a forceful "gift" from Luther that had landed me in this mess. If I had known, I would have chosen to go home with Nash and deal with the anxiety instead of being caught in such a compromising position with his uncle. But it was far too late for self-pity.

Luther, however, seemed completely unfazed. He didn't show a hint of panic, instead pressing himself even more tightly against me, leaving no space for air to pass between us. I looked at him with blaming eyes, but he kept his focus on the women descending the stairs. I could feel his gaze fixed on my mother-in-law and the two maids, his body tense with concentration, but not fear. He was calculating, waiting, and I could only hold my breath and pray we weren't discovered.

My mother-in-law's voice was a chilling sound, a haunting echo in the quiet mansion. It felt like a devil's shriek from the depths of hell, and my heart hammered so fast it made me nauseous.

Luther finally looked at me, his gaze dropping from my mother-in-law to my face, and the moment our eyes met, something in the air shifted. The suffocating terror of getting caught was replaced by a different kind of tension. The space around us charged with a palpable force, leaving me breathless and dizzy. My heart was still pounding, but this time, it wasn't from panic. It was from something else entirely, something raw and undeniable: desire.

I parted my lips, wetting them with the tip of my tongue as a sudden, overwhelming dryness took hold. My eyes remained locked with his, the rest of the world fading into a distant hum. Luther's chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, a clear testament that I wasn't the only one who felt the charged energy crackling between us.

The shift was too sudden, too disorienting. My mind couldn't keep up. Just moments ago, I was paralyzed with fear, terrified of being caught by my mother-in-law. Now, all of that fear was gone, replaced by a dizzying, potent pull. He was Nash's uncle. The man I had only planned to use as a pawn in my game of revenge. The idea of sleeping with him was a fleeting, impulsive thought, one I never intended to act on. Yet here I was, feeling a magnetic pull toward him that was so strong it made my head spin.

Luther, however, seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He leaned in slowly, his gaze never leaving mine, and unconsciously, I leaned in too. The space between us was gone in an instant as our lips met halfway, a silent agreement to a forbidden act. He looked into my brown eyes with such an intensity that a shiver ran down my spine, a mix of fear and an exhilarating thrill. In that moment, the entire world was reduced to the two of us, hidden beneath the stairs, our secret sealed with a single, dangerous kiss.

I looked up as the footsteps sounded right above my head, each one a drumbeat of pure adrenaline. But even as the danger of being caught loomed large, I couldn't bring myself to pull away from him. Instead, a surge of reckless defiance coursed through me. The closer the footsteps got, the deeper our kiss became, transforming from a tentative touch into a fierce, hungry battle of wills.

I tightened my grip on his shirt, pulling him closer as I tilted my head, silently offering him more. And he took it, his tongue diving in, his hands holding my head in a firm grip as he deepened the kiss. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a revelation. With every movement, every breath, every touch, he was rewriting my very perception of what a kiss could be, leaving me completely lost in a world where nothing mattered but the two of us, hidden in the shadows, locked in a dance of pure, unbridled passion.

~•~