Chapter 3
“Ethan, it’s our wedding night. Can we focus on us for once?” Amara’s voice rang clear, carrying a mix of frustration and determination.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, his phone pressed to his ear, muttering, “Celeste, I understand. I’ll figure something out.” His jaw tightened, and his free hand ran through his hair, a clear sign of agitation.
Amara leaned against the doorframe, her figure illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
The silk of her nightgown clung to her curves, and her sharp gaze stayed fixed on Ethan.
“Alright, I’ll call you back,” Ethan said into the phone, his tone softening. “Don’t worry, Celeste. I’ll handle it.”
The moment he hung up, Amara stepped forward, her arms folded across her chest. “What was that about?”
Ethan exhaled heavily. “Celeste’s landlord is threatening to evict her. She needs somewhere to stay, and she called me for help.”
Amara arched her brow. “Celeste called you, on our wedding night, to discuss her living arrangements? How convenient.”
“She’s in a tough spot, Amara,” Ethan replied defensively. “I can’t just ignore her. I can’t just abandon her.”
“You’re not abandoning her,” Amara said firmly. “But this isn’t the time to play savior. Tonight, Ethan, you belong to me, not her.”
Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but Amara placed a finger on his lips. “Go take a shower,” she said softly. “We’ll talk about this after.”
For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then he nodded and headed to the bathroom. The sound of water running soon filled the room.
Amara wasted no time. She moved swiftly, gathering every phone she could find. Ethan’s cell phone, the landline handset, even the emergency mobile tucked in the bedside drawer—all of them disappeared into a drawer in her wardrobe.
Her gaze landed on the intercom system. With a few quick presses, she disconnected it. Satisfied, she returned to the bed and perched on the edge, waiting.
When Ethan emerged from the bathroom, his damp hair tousled and a towel slung low on his hips, he looked surprised to find her sitting there, calm and composed.
“Amara,” he began, “about Celeste—”
She silenced him with a kiss, her lips warm and insistent against his. He stiffened at first but soon relaxed, his hands finding their way to her waist.
“This is our night,” she whispered against his lips, her voice tinged with longing. “Let’s not waste it talking about someone else.”
Ethan pulled back slightly, his brows furrowing. “But—”
“No buts,” she said, placing a finger on his lips again. “I’ll call my father tomorrow. He has some properties available. Maybe he can help her. But tonight, Ethan, I need you here. With me.”
Her words seemed to sink in, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “You’d do that? Call your father to help her?”
Amara nodded, her expression earnest. “Of course.”
Ethan finally smiled.
She leaned in to kiss him again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. His hands moved to cup her face, and she felt a surge of triumph. Celeste was out of the picture, at least for tonight.
As they stumbled toward the bed, their laughter filled the room.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Amara replied, a proud grin on her face as she pulled him down with her.
