Chapter 55: What is Love?

Chapter 55: What is Love? –Livana– I treated my sister-in-law and three of her friends to a private luxury KTV lounge. They ordered far more food than they could possibly finish—just about everything they craved, regardless of portion. Their voices filled the room, singing with unrestrained joy, though often out of tune. I slipped in my earplugs and tuned them out, focusing instead on Sophia’s report. Damon had already visited the site and retrieved items worth half a billion. Still, I found myself wondering—what exactly was in that container to be worth such an amount? Gold, gemstones, yes... but also high-end firearms. Yet Damon had only taken a single briefcase before leaving the rest to be managed by someone else. Perhaps he brought something back for me? I dismissed the thought. It’s his business, after all. Alyssa slid beside me on the couch. "Are you working?" "I was." I offered her a polite smile. "But we’re here to have fun. Jane’s having a blast." "Yes, I encouraged her to." "Hmm. Is this about last night?" she asked softly. I gave her a tight smile. "Let’s talk about that when we get home." I paused, then shifted the subject. "So, how’s Tiffany? Did she try to ruin your bag again?" "Oh, she did—multiple times," Alyssa said, crossing her arms. "But I have allies now who help me protect it. Still, I don’t think it’s safe to bring it to school anymore. I’ll just keep it at home—maybe wear it to more important events instead." "That’s wise," I nodded. "But this necklace," she touched it fondly, "I want to wear it every day. It feels... perfect on me." "I thought you’d say that." She sighed. "You’ve become like a best friend to me, Liva. Tyrona tried so hard to be close, but... I just couldn’t. Her sister is so awful. And I know she only wants to be near me because of Damon." Alyssa chuckled bitterly. "The funny part is, when she gets drunk, she always mistakes David for someone else—says she’s done things with him. You know David—he never says no when a woman offers to give him a blowjob." She burst into laughter as I shook my head. "Where did you learn something like that?" I tilted my head slightly. "Did you ever do that to someone too?" "Oh, God, no! That’s disgusting," she exclaimed, folding her arms. "I just heard about it—some scandal involving the school and the PTA officers. You know? The same PTA women from your school days. Tiffany doesn’t perform well in class or recitations, but she still tops every exam. Her mother is the vice president, after all." "Hmm," I folded my arms. "I can have someone look into that." We were interrupted by a loud knock. Moments later, a familiar scent drifted close, and warm arms circled my waist. I felt him beside me and nudged him gently. "You’re here," I murmured as his hand slid to my thigh. "Jane told me you were treating my sister and her friends." "Yes." "So, what happened at school, Alyssa?" he asked. "Eventful as always," she replied flatly. "If you’ll excuse me—we need to rehearse for the concert." "Alright." Damon nestled closer, and I nudged him again. I didn’t like when he acted this way in public—certainly not around the younger girls. "Love," he whispered against my ear, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "I’m leaving on a business trip in two days. I might be gone for two months. Be a good girl, hmm?" I rolled my eyes. We stayed for over two hours in the karaoke room. Damon stepped out now and then to take calls, but he always returned. Still, after that long... I thought my eardrums might beg for mercy. I sincerely hope their concert goes better. At home, I slipped into my usual routine—warm bath, slow breaths. Damon joined me, helping scrub my body, massaging shampoo into my hair, rinsing it gently. He dried me with care, then worked fragrant oil through my hair, followed by lotion and a rich serum on my skin. I have to admit—I loved the feeling of his hands everywhere. I loved the way his mouth worshipped my skin. I loved the way he wrung me out, again and again, until I was breathless, spent, and utterly undone. But what is love, anyway? Does that mean I love him? No... No, that can’t be right. I cannot love someone like Damon. I am not capable of that—not the way the world defines it. I cannot love a man. A husband. The only love I have ever truly known is the one I carry for my sister, Laura. My family. They are the only ones who truly mattered. Not this man who touches me like he owns every part of me. Not this husband I did not choose. What I feel for him—it must be something else. Something darker. Something more dangerous than love. I slept deeply afterward. He’s been trying not to exhaust me... but I collapsed into sleep like a child. When I opened my eyes, I saw light. Brighter than before. Slowly, I rubbed the corners of my eyes, brushing away dried mucus. I turned toward my husband—and I could see him. My right eye—clearer. The darkness that always clouded it seemed thinner, lighter. I don’t know how or why this is happening, but it feels like a miracle. I must consult the doctor who created the eyedrop. In two days, Damon will be leaving... wherever it is he’s going. "Sleep more," he murmured as I rested my head against his chest. My gaze dropped to the outline beneath the thin satin—his lower half barely covered. Was it really that big? I stared for a moment longer, half tempted to reach for it. But I stopped myself. I’m supposed to be blind. I should be blind. I didn’t want to make it obvious. My fingers drifted over his chest... and the few sexy little hairs that dusted it. Damn. Those hard, defined packs—was it eight? I trailed my hand down to count them. Strange. I could see—just barely—a subtle rise beneath the satin. His arousal, forming. How odd, how... familiar. I remembered the time I had taken control—forced myself over him, riding him like he was nothing more than a toy to sate a need. Maybe I should do that again. "Baby, I’m still sleepy," he murmured, voice low and languid. That voice—deep, warm, undeniably... sexy? No. Not sexy. I shouldn’t think that word at all. "But," he added, "if you’re horny, you can ride me. Think of it as part of your horse-riding lessons. A little warm-up." I scoffed. His hand reached for mine, guiding it across his abdomen until it rested over the heat of him. "See?" he breathed, rough and reverent. "You make me like this... every damn day, Livana." "Hmm." I gripped him, not too gently. My hand moved with slow precision, and then I sat up—knees straddling his hips. "Wow. That’s my girl. Giddy up, eh?" I smacked his chest, more amused than annoyed. "My Goddess," he whispered, catching my wrist and pressing his lips to the inside of it. "I love you." Love? No. It’s an obsession. He’s obsessed with me. But does it matter? He can’t hurt me. He never could. I can use him however and whenever I want. I bit my lower lip as I guided him inside me. And I could see it now—more than before. The shape of him, the way my vision caught fleeting glimpses. I was already slick. I didn’t know why. Or maybe I did. I wanted this. I wanted him. I lay sprawled on the bed, barely able to move. He had to finish things himself—I was too far gone. My body felt like jelly, every nerve humming after that relentless sequence of orgasms. My husband? He’s like a horse... Or better yet—he’s never had a poor performance. Not once. He cleaned me up. I was too lazy, too limp to lift a finger. He washed me gently, dressed me with practiced care, even brushed my teeth. Then he carried me downstairs for a late breakfast. I still felt shaky. Between my legs? A lingering warmth, low and insistent. Or maybe... I was still craving him. And that’s the part I don’t understand. I hate him. Don’t I? I shouldn’t be sleeping with someone I hate. Yet here I am—married to him, craving him. And worse... I love every moment he touches me. Every time he takes me, even when I’m drunk from the memory of the last time. None of this makes any sense. And yet... here I am. "Brother, can you pick me up later?" Alyssa’s voice broke through. "Come on. Treat me and my friends to shopping." She pouted. "I’ve got work to do, Alyssa." From the corner of my returning vision, I caught a glimpse—he handed her a credit card. "Take Kai with you, okay?" "Oh, come on," Kai groaned. "I was supposed to be working. Or sleeping, at least." I smirked. "I’ll go with you," I said softly. I wanted to go out. I wanted to see more of the world I had been blind to for so long. Even if my vision was still hazy. Even if the darkness still curled at the edges. I would take what I could get—and imagine the rest. "Wow, perfect!" Alyssa beamed. "But it’d be even better if Damon picked me up too." "Tomorrow," Damon said as he kissed her forehead. "Be good at school." Then he turned to me. He kissed me—soft, lingering. "I’ll be back soon, my Goddess. Tonight... wear the sexiest one, alright?" "Hmm. Depends." He chuckled and walked away. I watched him go, but my thoughts turned inward. I needed to gather myself. My vision wasn’t fully clear. Shadows still clung to the corners of my sight, like a veil refusing to lift. But no one could know. Not yet. Not Damon. Not anyone. Let them think I am still blind. It’s better that way.