Let us go to my main bedroom
Luther’ POV
I did not know much about women back then. It was the kind of truth I never liked saying out loud. But lying there, with Charlotte resting half-asleep on my chest, her leg draped lazily over mine, something about the silence made me speak. Maybe it was the way her fingers brushed my skin, slow and soft, like she was trying to tell me she was listening without interrupting.
“I was completely clueless,” I said, staring at the ceiling like it might forgive me for the memories rushing back. She hummed softly, not lifting her head, only snuggling a bit closer like she wanted to hear more.
“Are you talking about relationships?” she asked, her voice quiet but curious.
I nodded, my throat tightening. “Yes. I made mistakes. Some of them I buried so deep, I forgot they were mine.”
She did not judge me. She did not pull away. She just lay there, breathing gently, and that comfort did something strange to my chest. I felt exposed, but not alone.
“Let us go to my main bedroom,” I said after a while, pulling myself from the thoughts. “The bed is soaked, and you need warmth.”
“Main bedroom?” she repeated, slowly sitting up.
I chuckled. “I usually sleep on the right wing when I want to be left alone. But now, I would rather not be alone.”
She gave me a funny look but smiled. “You are full of surprises.”
I stood and reached for her hand. She took it, rising from the bed with a stretch. Her body caught the soft light filtering in through the curtains, and for a second, all I could do was look. I reminded myself to breathe.
“I need to clean up,” she muttered, glancing down at her belly.
“You still look incredible,” I teased, touching her side lightly.
She laughed and nudged my arm. “Do not start. Who even calls it seed? That is such a weird word.”
“What is wrong with it?” I asked, grinning as I raised my hands.
“It sounds like something my dad would say.”
“Are you saying I am old?” I gasped, pretending to be hurt.
She burst into laughter. “Can an old man make me feel like that?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“That is what I thought,” I said, offering her a wink before walking her to the bathroom.
“I can handle it from here,” she said once I opened the door for her.
I nodded and stepped back, knowing I would not be able to control myself if I went in with her. I leaned against the wall, my mind drifting again.
That moment reminded me just how much my life had shifted. Not just because of her, but because of what I felt when I looked at her. Like maybe I was finally getting something right.
When she came back out, her skin smelled fresh, and her hair was slightly damp. I handed her one of my old shirts. She slipped it on, and we walked quietly through the corridor to the master bedroom. Her bare feet padded softly on the marble tiles. My shirt stopped just beneath her hips, giving me a view that made it hard to think straight. I reached out and gave her backside a gentle smack.
“Ow! What was that for?” she spun around, her face twisted in mock surprise.
“You know exactly why,” I said, placing my hand gently on her back.
We turned the final corner, and I pushed open the large oak doors to my bedroom. She stepped in and paused. Her lips parted slightly, eyes scanning the room slowly.
“It is beautiful,” she said, walking in like she was stepping into something sacred.
She sat on the edge of the bed, a small wince crossing her face as she lowered herself. I walked over and sat beside her, choosing not to take the armchair by the window.
“I am sorry,” I said, watching her closely.
“For what?”
“You are hurting,” I nodded toward the spot she had just covered with my shirt.
“It is a good kind of sore,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine with a flicker of something tender.
There was so much I could say in that moment, about my past, about how different she made everything feel, but instead, I reached for her hand and held it. Because right then, it was enough just to be there with her.
"Do not talk like that," I warned, my eyes falling to her thighs. The hem of my shirt had ridden up when she sat, and I could just about see the softest hint of her, taunting me without trying.
"Like what?" she asked, leaning back on her forearms. The stretch pushed her breasts forward, her nipples clear beneath the thin fabric. I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself in check.
"Baby, you know what I mean."
She giggled, crawling across the bed to the middle. I followed, settling beside her against the headboard. A long pause hung between us. I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting old memories creep back in.
"I was not very good with women when I was younger. In university, I barely had time for anything outside of my studies. I had one goal, make Stanley’s sacrifices worth it." I paused, grounding myself in the memory before continuing.
"Once I graduated, I threw myself into work. Started a company from scratch with help from an investor, my own savings, and a little push from Stanley. Within six months, I bought out the investor’s shares. From there, the business just took off." I turned to Charlotte briefly, her head tilted in quiet curiosity.
"That sounds intense. So, no relationships in uni at all?"
"None worth mentioning. I had sex twice. That was it. No parties, no flings, nothing casual. Just a tunnel-vision focused on building something real." She shifted a little closer to me, resting her cheek against my shoulder.
"And the woman you mentioned earlier?"
"We met at a business convention about a year later. She came up to me, confident and smiling, like she already knew the effect she would have. We went on a few dates and then started seeing each other seriously. She moved in with me after a few months. I fell for her faster than I should have."
"Was she famous?" Charlotte asked gently.
"Already a well-known name in her own right," I said, my voice lower now. "The kind of woman people bent rules for. I kept the relationship private. She wanted it public, but I was not interested in becoming media fodder."
"So what went wrong?"
I sighed heavily. "Stanley warned me about her. He said something felt off, but I was too far gone to care. Then she got pregnant… and I thought I had everything I ever wanted. I planned something special, bought an engagement ring, hired a private jet to take her to the Maldives. Even Mateo helped me pull it all together." I swallowed the rising lump in my throat.
"One Friday, I left work early to surprise her. She had the day off, so I figured she would be home, probably resting. She had been having a tough time with the pregnancy. I got home, went straight upstairs…"
Charlotte’s hand touched my face, soft and warm. I leaned into it.
"You don’t have to finish," she whispered.
"I need to," I said. "You deserve to know why I hold back. Why is it hard for me to let anyone in? I stood outside our bedroom and heard voices. Arguing. Her voice and another man’s. That is when I found out… she was pregnant, yes, but not with my child." Charlotte gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"She had been seeing another man the whole time. My rival. Another CEO. She was there to get close, to destroy me, take what she could, and disappear. She had lied about everything."
Charlotte looked sick. "That is evil. Did you know the man?" I met her eyes, took a slow breath, and nodded.
"Yes. Gavin’s father." Her eyes widened. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but no words came.
"Yeah," I said bitterly. "That is where it all began."
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