Victor’s POV
The car pulled up to the curb of the resort.
The sound of the fountain welcomed us as we stepped out- free from the eyes of reporters, free from cameras, free from the world.
It was just us.
I’d never thought I’d bring anyone here.
This place had always been my sanctuary, my escape from the empire I controlled.
But bringing her here, right after announcing her to the world, felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“This place is so beautiful,” Miriam said, looking around at the lush gardens and the elegant architecture.
Two women immediately approached us, their movements practiced and precise.
“Good afternoon, sir. It’s wonderful having you here again. What can we serve you?” one of them asked.
I turned to Miriam.
“What do you want?”
She raised an eyebrow, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression.
“Show us the menu,” I requested.
“Of course, sir.”
They disappeared, and another woman appeared to lead us to a secluded area that had already been reserved for us.
The space was perfect- private, intimate, away from prying eyes.
“Is this how they treat everyone, or just you?” Miriam suddenly asked.
I laughed.
“Why do you ask?”
She was looking around at the impeccable service, the way everyone seemed to anticipate our needs before we even spoke them.
“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “I bought it. I own this resort.”
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked around the space again, seeing it through new eyes.
“It’s a nice place to relax,” she said softly.
“You can come whenever you want,” I told her.
“Anytime. It’s yours to use as you wish.”
She looked at me and smiled softly.
It was a genuine smile, not the calculated smile she used in business meetings.
This was real.
But before she could respond, the waitress arrived with the menu.
“Please, you pick first,” I said to Miriam.
I watched her carefully.
Her slender fingers scrolled through the tablet menu, and the seriousness on her face made her look absolutely beautiful.
I found myself unable to look away from her.
“I’ll just take these,” she said to the waitress, pointing at a selection of light dishes.
“And you, sir?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll take whatever she wants,” I said without hesitation.
Miriam flicked her eyes at me.
“It’s just a light meal. You could choose something else for yourself.”
I shrugged.
“Today is a special day. I should eat what my wife eats.”
I emphasized the word deliberately, watching her expression change.
“Or don’t you want me calling you ‘wife’ in public like this?” I teased, leaning forward slightly.
She looked at me, then quickly looked away, avoiding my eyes.
“Everyone already knows. It doesn’t make a difference if you do.”
She was trying to sound indifferent, but I could see she was flustered.
Good.
I wanted her to be comfortable around me.
I wanted her to feel like she belonged with me.
The waitress brought the food, steaming and fragrant.
It smelled incredible- fresh herbs, perfectly cooked seafood, something light but satisfying.
“Enjoy your meal, please,” the waitress said before disappearing.
My phone suddenly rang.
I stared at the caller ID, then at Miriam.
It was Karen.
“Sir, there’s a sudden problem,” Karen’s voice came through, urgent and stressed.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to keep my frustration in check.
“What is it?”
“Miss Miranda is on a livestream right now. She’s talking badly about Mrs. Miriam. She’s attacking her new position as CEO. Sir, she’s…”
I felt anger spike through me.
Miranda??
Damn that fuck bitch .
“Get that livestream down. Immediately,” I said coldly.
“Sir, it’s spiraling. She’s revealing things about Mrs. Miriam. Personal things. Things that could damage her reputation. People are already commenting. Some are defending her, but others are…”
“I don’t care what they’re saying. Get it down. Now.”
“Sir, maybe you should get on the livestream yourself. Respond. Show that you support her and…”
The table behind me suddenly fell down with a loud crash.
Miriam had stood up so quickly that she’d knocked it over.
She was running toward the railing, holding her stomach, her face pale.
I immediately dropped my phone and ran after her.
“Miriam, are you okay?” I called out, fear gripping my chest.
I didn’t know why seeing her like this scared me so much.
But I reached her just as her body bent over the railing.
She was vomiting.
“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on her back, patting it gently as her body shook violently.
The food on our table was completely untouched.
She hadn’t eaten anything.
That meant this had nothing to do with the meal itself.
“What the hell did you put in that meal?” I yelled at the chefs who came running, panic written all over their faces.
“Sir, this food was just prepared this morning. Everything is fresh. Everything is prepared according to our highest standards. We would never…”
“I don’t care about your standards!” I snapped.
“What did you put in it?”
Miriam held onto my arm, her body shaking violently.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice softer now, filled with genuine concern.
“I’m okay,” she whispered weakly.
“It’s just the smell of the meal. The smell turned my insides.”
The smell?
That was strange.
But I didn’t have time to process it right now.
All I cared about was making sure she was alright.
“Get water. Now!” I yelled at the staff.
They scattered, returning quickly with large glasses of water.
I gently rinsed her face and gave her water to drink, supporting her as she steadied herself.
“Let’s go home,” she muttered, leaning against me.
“Yes. Yes, let’s go home,” I agreed immediately.
I swooped her into my arms and carried her toward the car.
She was light in my arms, and I held her carefully, afraid of making her feel worse.
“Get the car running. Now!” I commanded the driver as we approached the vehicle.
I settled her carefully into the back seat and sat close to her, not wanting to leave her alone for even a moment.
“I’m okay,” she said again, as if trying to convince both of us.
“Are you sure? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” I asked, my hand brushing her hair away from her face.
“No,” she cut in quickly.
“I just need rest.”
“Okay,” I said, continuing to caress her face gently.
I moved her hair to her ear, touching her skin softly.
What could have caused that reaction?
Just the smell of food?
That was unusual.
But I pushed the question aside for now.
The car reversed out of the resort and began driving toward the city.
“Was it the smell? Was it unpleasant?” I asked, my hands not leaving her face.
“It’s both, to be honest,” she said weakly.
“Well, maybe it was just unpleasant, like you said.”
“I’m going to have them fired,” I said coldly.
“No one serves my wife something that makes her sick.”
“No, don’t do that,” she protested immediately.
“They didn’t do anything wrong. They need their jobs. They need to survive too.”
Even sick, even suffering, she was thinking about other people.
She was defending people who had nothing to do with her.
This woman had a heart that the world didn’t deserve.
I was about to respond when the car suddenly stopped.
I raised my head sharply.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Sir,” the driver said nervously, “there are protesters blocking the way.”