Chapter 182: Old Arrangements

"He’s my husband." She spat.

Callum scoffed prepared to say something.

"Shut up, Callum," Victor snapped.

Callum looked toward his father in disbelief.

Victor ignored him and turned back to Dorian and Naomi. "Just tell me what you want."

Naomi looked up at Dorian first, then he gave her a small nod to hear what she had in mind. "Kneel and apologise to my husband."

There was complete, glorious silence.

Callum looked like someone had just suggested he crawl naked through Times Square.

Dorian smiled. His little lamb was learning.

Find the weakness and use it.

Pride was Callum’s weakness.

She had gone straight for the one thing that would hurt him most.

His ego.

She’d learned and she’d learned well.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Callum looked at Dorian.

Surely, a man of Dorian Heathcliffe’s calibre would not allow this.

Dorian raised a brow. "You heard the woman." He gestured casually with his head toward the ground in front of him.

"Daddy?" Callum turned toward Victor with betrayal in his expression.

Victor merely shrugged.

"I’m not doing it!" Callum snapped, his eyes swung back to Naomi, venomous now.

Naomi held his stare. "Then we press charges."

Callum laughed sharply. "I have the best lawyers."

Dorian’s mouth curved slightly. "Make sure they’re better than me, Sterling."

The smile disappeared from Callum’s face.

Naomi almost smiled herself.

God, she loved this arrogant man.

Victor’s patience finally snapped. "Do as the woman says, Callum!"

Nobody moved. The silence stretched. Then, with the expression of a man privately arranging several murders, Callum slowly lowered himself onto one knee.

His jaw was clenched so tightly.

Then the other knee touched the ground.

Dorian looked down at him.

"I’m sorry."

The apology came through gritted teeth.

Naomi studied him.

Did she suddenly feel better? Not particularly.

Dorian had still been attacked and wounded.

But she was willing to accept this for what it was.

An ending.

"I do hope that we can keep as much distance as possible from each other from now on."

Callum rose quickly. "Believe me, I want nothing to do with you anymore."

"Splendid!" Dorian replied.

Callum glared at him.

Dorian couldn’t have looked less bothered if he tried. He glanced down at Naomi instead. "Would you please bring the car out? We’re running late."

Naomi nodded. "Okay." She gave Callum one final look before stepping back inside the townhouse.

Victor cleared his throat. "Do you assure me all is forgiven?"

Dorian looked back at him. "I wouldn’t say forgiven, Mr Sterling. But it is forgotten."

At least for now.

Victor appeared relieved anyway.

Dorian gave him a polite nod. "Have a good day."

Victor returned the gesture.

Dorian remained where he was as they turned away.

For all appearances, the matter was finished.

Dorian slipped his hands into his pockets now that his wife wasn’t in his arms anymore and he had no idea what to do with them.

Victor and Callum started down the path toward their car, but Callum stopped after a few steps.

He turned and his eyes landed on Dorian.

There was nothing apologetic in them now. The humiliation was still sitting there, burning hot beneath the surface, mixed with enough anger to make the warning perfectly clear.

Instead of looking concerned, Dorian smiled.

That only seemed to make Callum angrier.

Naomi had really taken a sledgehammer to the man’s pride.

Callum finally turned away and followed his father.

A moment later, the garage door opened. The black Range Rover rolled forward and stopped beside him.

Dorian walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and eased himself carefully into the seat.

They had barely made it onto the road when Dorian spoke.

"Just so you know, I’m not dropping it."

Naomi looked at him quickly before returning her attention to the road. "You’re going to press charges?"

"No, no." Dorian adjusted slightly in his seat. "I find it odd that they got ahead of the situation."

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"People don’t usually volunteer information that can hurt them unless they’re protecting themselves from something worse. When someone admits to the smaller thing before you uncover it yourself, there is usually something bigger behind the scenes they don’t want discovered."

"Is this Counselor Heathcliffe speaking now?"

Dorian turned his head toward her. "Yes. But if I don’t press charges, I have no reason to start digging into their lives. It would be termed a vendetta. Which means I cannot justify using the firm’s resources."

"Ohhh." Naomi straightened behind the wheel. "I like this."

"Are we going on a secret mission? Undercover?"

"We?" His brow rose.

Naomi looked at that stupid tiny mole sitting just above his eyebrow.

Every single time he raised that brow at her, she developed the ridiculous urge to lean across and kiss it.

She dragged her eyes back to the road. "I know I am just a chef..."

"Exactly. And no," he continued, "I am not going undercover. I’m also not sleuthing. Just need to arm myself with more information. I am not Sherlock Holmes."

She glanced over at him, genuinely disappointed. "Awwww...."

"Tell me why you wanted to marry him," Dorian said. "And I am asking strictly for investigative purposes. Not because I completely hate and despise the idea."

That made her lips twitch.

"I didn’t want to marry him. It was an arrangement my uncle made to manage my situation at the time."

"What situation?"

Naomi went quiet.

The Range Rover hummed steadily beneath them as she kept her eyes on the road.

"Naomi?"

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Will anything I say change how you feel about me? Will you look at me differently?"

"Naomi..."

She swallowed. "I find it hard to say it out loud, especially to you, because...I don’t want you to be disappointed in me."

He smiled softly. He had no idea what she was about to say, but she genuinely believed there was still something she could reveal that would make him love her less. "I won’t be, honey. I promise." He reached across the console and rested his hand over her thigh. "I love you. And I do not remember our wedding in Vegas," he continued, "but I’m pretty sure somewhere along the line, we used the words ’for better or for worse.’"

"I can confidently assume we said all the standard romantic nonsense."