THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 120: A Kiss For The Message

Chapter 120: A Kiss For The Message

Caius chose silence. It wasn’t easy, but he held his tongue, clenching his fists at his sides. He had been trying—really trying—not to scare her.

Not to grab Jake by the throat, drag him outside, and leave him with a warning he wouldn’t forget. Or worse. He wanted to address the issue head-on, have a small conversation with him.

Maybe he was going to reconsider it; sometimes it was better to address this issues behind your wife’s back.

But what would that prove? He’d promised himself he wouldn’t control her again. That’s why he’d stepped back. That’s why he let her do things her way.

But now, she was using that against him.

He wanted to let the whole Jake thing slide. He’d tried. But watching that smug bastard sit across from his wife, laughing with her, sharing dinner, drinking wine at a place like this—so cozy and romantic—it boiled something alive in his chest.

He wasn’t sure it was just dinner.

"Your problem, Caius? You’re a control freak," she hissed. "It’s fine when you cheat, but the second I even think about it, you lose your mind. You’re here with Lauren, I’m here with Jake—but somehow, your betrayal’s acceptable, and mine isn’t?"

Caius’s jaw tightened. The muscle ticked so hard beneath his skin it looked ready to snap. His eyes darkened and swirled with something animal.

Heather didn’t stop. She was too far in. "You keep saying Jake only wants one thing from me..." She exhaled. "But what if both of us want the same thing?"

The words landed like a blow. Caius’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes—they burned hotter, brighter, more feral.

"What did you just say?" His voice was low. So low it curled around her spine.

Heather turned away, acting like his words didn’t crawl under her skin. She reached for the door of the ladies’ room. Her fingers trembled slightly despite how hard she tried to hide it.

But she never made it.

Caius’s hand clamped around her wrist—firmly. Before she could pull away, he spun her, and pinned her against the door with terrifying ease. It wasn’t rough, but not gentle either—more like a predator playing with its prey.

His other hand pressed flat beside her head, caging her in. His body was so close, the heat of him almost seeped into her skin.

His breath brushed across her face—steady and calm—but his eyes, those deep, wild green eyes, were anything but calm. They were the eyes of something monstrous. A beast in a man’s skin.

Heather’s throat tightened.

His hand slid from her wrist to her shoulder, because of her earlier injury; he gripped it tight against the door.

His fingers curled possessively, holding her there like she was his to claim, his to guard, his to destroy if it came to that.

"Now listen to me," he said in a hoarse voice; his voice broke at the edges with restraint. His breath fanned the loose strands of her hair, but it was his stare that truly held her captive. That stare alone stripped away any illusion of control.

"I’ve been patient with you," he continued, his voice low, but simmered with something too pointy to name.

"I’ve been...understanding. I gave you space. I gave you freedom. I’ve stood by and watched you test me."

His grip on her shoulder tightened just enough for her to feel the warning—the quiet promise of the storm behind his words.

"But don’t ever mistake my silence for surrender," Caius whispered. "If you think I’ll stand by while another man touches what’s mine...then you don’t know the demon you married."

"Go out there and end whatever is game you think you’re playing. I don’t want you strutting around with a single man, you’re married." His voice was quiet; but louder than any scream.

Heather’s heart pounded hard in her chest. Her breathing faltered, and for a moment, her fear nearly won. She could say yes, agree to anything, just so he’d let her go.

But the stubbornness inside her refused to bow to him.

She lifted her chin, her eyes hard despite the tremor working its way through her body. "Watch me," she whispered.

Caius laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "If you choose to go with Jake, you’re not sleeping in the room anymore."

It took every ounce of strength to shove him back. His body barely moved, but it was enough. His scent, his heat, his presence clung to her as she unlocked the door and slipped out.

She didn’t look back.

But she felt him behind her—the quiet press of his footsteps, steady as death, close enough to strike. She knew he didn’t mean she wouldn’t sleep in the room anymore. He was just bluffing; he always does this, try to trap and control her.

When she reached the table, her hands were still shaking, but she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Jake by the collar, yanked him toward her, and kissed him.

Her lips pressed to his, lingering longer than they needed to. Long enough for Caius to see and for the message to land.

Jake stiffened at first; he was startled, but then his hand slid to her waist, cautious and unsure but playing along.

Before he could say a word, Heather pulled back. Her fingers wrapped around Jake’s wrist, and she tugged him to his feet.

Jake tossed some cash onto the table, his eyes flickered past her toward the man standing near the door.

Caius stood there; he didn’t move or stop her.

But Heather could still feel his stare, slicing down her spine. Maybe she had done too much, but her reaction was fueled by his action and words.

She left the place with Jake.

...

Heather returned to the house well past midnight.

Her heels dangled from her fingers as she quietly made her way upstairs, her steps cautious, almost hesitant.

She didn’t want to come back home this late; they lost track of time. Jake suggested not showing up at all was worse than coming back late.

She paused at the hallway that led to the bedroom.