Anne’s heart clenched at the raw concern etched across Johnson’s face. She parted her lips to ease his fears, to assure him that she would never betray Augustine, but before she could speak, his next words caught her completely off guard.fɾēewebnσveℓ
"He is one of the most powerful and wealthiest n in the world."
Anne’s mouth hung open, eyes widening in disbelief. The revelation echoed in her mind. She had known Augustine was successful and that he had built his own life, but the new information had left her speechless.
"If you ask, he’ll give you anything you desire," he continued. "Even if you are with him just for his status and wealth, don’t ever leave him. Don’t betray him. That would break him beyond repair."
His words, though not cruel, struck Anne hard. Hurt flickered across her face, replacing the shock. She understood why he said it. Johnson didn’t know her. To him, she could be a materialistic woman, a gold digger. The implication stung.
Taking a slow breath, Anne steadied herself. "I can see your loyalty toward Augustine. It’s comforting to know he has soone like you by his side." She paused, looking him straight in the eye. "But let be clear—I didn’t marry him for money or power. I’m here because I love him, not for what he can give . And I would never hurt him... because I know all too well what betrayal feels like."
Johnson’s tense expression softened, his eyes glimring with relief. He bowed. "Thank you, Madam. That ans more than you know. And I apologize if I overstepped. I just couldn’t stop myself from being protective... he is like family to ."
"Trying to intimidate my wife, Johnson?"
Augustine’s voice cut through the air like a blade—low, cold, and dangerously calm.
Anne and Johnson both turned toward the sound, startled. Augustine approached them with slow, asured steps, dressed in soft lounge clothes.
Johnson imdiately lowered his head, visibly flustered. "I would never, sir. Please, enjoy your breakfast." He made a discreet exit, nearly stumbling over himself in his haste.
Anne turned her gaze away, arms folded in defiance, her lips forming a tight pout. "You scared him off."
She wasn’t just miffed about the scene. There was a deeper tangle of emotion in her chest. She was still digesting everything she had learned about Augustine, and she felt a little hurt that he had been keeping secrets from her. She couldn’t shake the sense that there were still layers of him she didn’t know.
Augustine’s eyes narrowed, sensing her subtle shift in mood. He chuckled with mischief as he stepped behind her.
"That wasn’t my intention." His hands ca to rest lightly on her shoulders, and he leaned in until his breath skimd the shell of her ear. "But tell ... did I scare you?"
The husky undertone in his voice sent a tremor down her spine. His fingers moved in slow, teasing strokes along her arms, coaxing goosebumps to rise on her skin. Every inch of her body beca acutely aware of his presence.
The fact that she wore nothing beneath his shirt only intensified her awareness of him—the fabric brushing her bare skin, his touch tracing heat in its wake.
Desire coiled in her belly, burning hotter with each passing second. She clenched her thighs, trying to rein in the tide of heat threatening to take over.
’Focus,’ she reminded herself. ’I’m upset with him... I’m not giving in that easily.’
She ignored the tempting pull of his touch, pretending his closeness didn’t make her ache. She wouldn’t let him win this round.
Anne bit into her croissant, deliberately keeping her tone indifferent. "You are distracting ," she said coolly. "If you are not going to eat, you might as well leave."
Her bluntness hit Augustine like a splash of cold water, dampening the fire she had ignited monts ago. Still, he didn’t let it show. The glimr of challenge in his eyes remained. He wasn’t in a rush. He could play the long ga.
’Let’s see how long you can resist ,’ he mused. ’Eventually, you’ll be the one begging for my touch.’
Suppressing a grin, he casually stepped away and rounded the table, taking the seat across from her. He reached for the serving trays and helped himself to roasted tomatoes and sautéed mushrooms.
"If you’d like sothing specific for dinner, let Johnson know," he said nonchalantly, popping a piece of mushroom into his mouth.
"I’m not picky," Anne replied, sipping her juice. "But food isn’t on my mind right now. I want to explore this place." Her eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity sharpening her tone. "I had no idea you owned such a lavish villa. It seems like you have been keeping a lot from . What else are you hiding?"
His fork paused mid-air, but he didn’t lift his gaze. He resud eating without answering.
Anne studied him, her frustration simring as she didn’t get his answer. "Johnson said you are one of the wealthiest n in the world," she said pointedly. "But I don’t believe that."
Anne arched an eyebrow, studying his face, hoping to catch even a flicker of reaction. But Augustine remained impassive, calm, collected, as though her words were nothing more than idle chatter. His composure only fueled her irritation.
"He must be quite proud of his master," she added, feigning indifference yet aiming to provoke. "I an, your boss is rich enough to send you back to the main office in a private jet. Probably gave you this massive villa too, didn’t he?"
Augustine simply nodded, cool and unbothered. "He can do anything he pleases," he said, scooping another bite of food.
Anne let out a quiet huff, her lips tightening in annoyance. ’Still pretending. Still hiding,’ she thought. ’Just how long can you keep up this act, Augustine?’
Anne opened her mouth to challenge him further, but before any words escaped, she gasped softly.
Under the table, his foot had slid forward, brushing lightly against her leg. Her body tensed.
Augustine looked up from his plate, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Why aren’t you eating?" His foot continued its slow journey upward, reaching her knee with deliberate ease. "Not to your liking? I’ll have Johnson prepare sothing else."
Before Anne could gather her wits or stop him, he called out, "Johnson."
She sat rigidly, her heart hamring, as the foot teasing her inched higher, unrelenting, wicked.
Within monts, Johnson appeared at the doorway. "Do you need anything, sir?"
"I’m almost done," Augustine replied, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. Then he leaned back lazily, gaze fixed on Anne. "Ask your Madam if she needs anything."
At that mont, his foot slid higher, pressing softly against the inside of her thigh.
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