â«ï¸Stella's POV...
The moment I spotted the lingerie, I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. Like seriously? Is Christian even straight? I mean, come on-what kind of psycho mafia boss owns a wardrobe full of lacy, colorful lingerie? Suspicion bubbled up, and I couldn't resist asking him about it. Of course, the bastard denied it with a straight face.
"Are you sure it's not yours?" I teased.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I wear that stuff?"
Honestly? I couldn't help but picture him in it. In my head, the visual was insane. But no-no, no, no. Not going down that road. Not today, Satan.
Then Christian smirked, pulled me close, and said, "Maybe they're for you."
"WTF?" I yelled, my brain short-circuiting. Without even thinking, I kicked him in the balls. Hard.
He doubled over, groaning, "Goddamnit, Stella!"
"Serves you right, you pervert," I shot back.
But then he explained the reason-something about hiding them for his mother-and I genuinely apologized. Of course, he couldn't let it go and teased me again. I couldn't stand him anymore, so I stormed out of the room.
When Christian left the room later, I couldn't resist the temptation. I opened the wardrobe again and took another peek at the lingerie. Curiosity killed the cat, right?
But holy crap, they were gorgeous. Satin, lace, different colors, and brands that screamed luxury. I bit my lip. "Damn, I'd look fire in these." Then I mentally slapped myself. Why the hell I'll wear them? To seduce that lunatic husband of mine? Not interested. I slammed the door shut and escaped before I did something stupid-like trying them on.
I needed a distraction. A fucking distraction.
So I grabbed some snacks, threw on a random Netflix show, and snuggled up in bed. Life was good and peaceful. Until he walked in.
About an hour later, he strolled in like he owned the place-shit, he does-and flopped onto the bed next to me. Not a word. No explanation. He just sat there and started watching the show like it was his idea.
I pushed the plate of chips toward him out of sheer humanity. "Want some?"
Instead of taking from the plate like a normal human, this jerk leaned over and ate the chip sticking out of my mouth. I froze. My mind? Blank. My heart? Racing.
What. The. Actual. Fuck. This. Asshole. Did.
"What the hell, Christian?" I yelled, shoving him.
He smirked, his lips way too close to mine. "I'm your husband. I can do that."
I kicked his leg under the blanket, glaring. "Keep doing that, and you'll be no more of a man, let alone a husband."
"Relax, wifey," he drawled, stealing another chip.
"You're such an asshole," I muttered but still ended up feeding him more snacks because he kept opening his mouth whenever I took a bite. So, I fed him too.
I have to admit, though-seeing this buff mafia boss munching on chips like a kid was kind of adorable. And I, Stella Anderson, got the precious opportunity to feed him CHIPS.
"So, you watch movies too?" I asked, curious.
He shrugged. "No, they're just a waste of time."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course, Mr. Mafia King is too busy ruling the world."
He smirked. "And you're too busy being a freeloader."
I gasped, pretending to be offended. "And you're a mean jerk. Every single time."
"That's the only way to handle you," he scoffed.
After the movie and finally escaping that hot bastard, I headed to Ava's room to tell her something important. We talked about everything going on, and she mentioned MJ-how sweet he was and how happy he made her. I was genuinely happy for her. They looked good together. He prioritized her. Unlike Christian. Who made me sleep on the sofa. Bastard.
Being a true friend, I said, "If you ever need lingerie, I have a whole collection. Different colors, styles, and brands for different moods. Just come and pick. Don't ruin your night with boring outfits."
She blinked. "Wait, what? You have them? Stella, something is fishy."
"It's not what you're thinking. Christian bought them because he thinks his mother might peek, but I didn't know this. So I ended up asking, 'Are you straight? Do you wear them? You'd look hot in them,'" I said with a straight face before bursting into laughter.
Her shocked expression was priceless, and we laughed until we couldn't breathe.
Later that night, I returned to our room-yes, it's mine now too. I plopped onto the bed, refusing to even glance at the sofa. It was uncomfortable, and no way was I sleeping there again.
Christian walked in, gave me a side-eye, and headed to the bathroom. When he came out in a T-shirt and sweatpants, he looked annoyingly good.
"Get up," he ordered.
"Why? No way." I said while pulling quilt near me.
"I'm sleeping here. Aren't you allergic to me?" he said raising an eyebrow with a smirk.
I raised an eyebrow too "Yes, I am. But you put me on the bed last night. I'm saving you the trouble."
He chuckled darkly. "Let me repeat. I know a really good psychiatrist who can help you with your delusions. I just throw you on the bed in the morning out of sheer humanity. I didn't sleep on the sofa-you did."
I stared at him, mortified. "You are such a dick."
"Because I have one, unlike you, peeking at others' stuff," he laughed.
"Whatever. But you'll sleep on the sofa tonight. I slept there yesterday."
He laughed harder. "I gave you the bed, but you didn't sleep. You couldn't resist your wild desires while lying next to me."
I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "In your dreams, asshole!"
He caught the pillow with ease, his smirk infuriatingly smug. "I am everyone's dream."
"Yeah, if their dream is a walking piece of trash."
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Say that again."
I quickly held up my hands. "Fine, I won't say it. But I'll sleep on the bed."
"As I said, you can," he replied, moving to his side.
I placed a pillow between us. I didn't want to, but he'd taunt me, saying I couldn't resist my desires-unlike him.
He chuckled, adding another pillow. "Smart choice. That way, you can control your desires."
I pointed at his little knight. "Mr. Delulu, I'm not even a little bit interested in that micro..." I stopped mid-sentence-damn those grey sweatpants. My gaze dipped, and I froze.
Was that...?
I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh, but a snort escaped anyway.
"What's so funny?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"Nothing," I choked out, tears of suppressed laughter in my eyes.
His eyes narrowed as he followed my gaze. Realization hit him like a truck, and his ears turned red. Without a word, he yanked the quilt over himself, covering everything.
"Seriously?!" he snapped, his voice sharp and flustered.
I couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching my stomach. "Oh my god, Christian, that was too obvious!"
"Shut up!" he barked, throwing a pillow at me.
I dodged it, gasping for air. "I can't believe this. Your little knight is making an appearance! Say hi to him from me."
"Shut up and just sleep," he grumbled, pulling the quilt over his head. He quickly changed into black sweatpants.
I gave him a thumbs-up. "Less visible now."
I laughed one last time. Then he turned off the lights and he slept, facing the other side.
I couldn't hold anymore and said, "Invisible now." And laughed really hard.
Then he pulled me under the quilt, covering me with the quilt as I'm still laughing. He kept saying sleep stella and I slept after his little knight got invisible in the dark.