“Laura,” I said into the intercom on my desktop phone.

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” she immediately responded. That was the best thing about my personal assistant – she never kept me waiting. Ever. Her incredible efficiency was one of the reasons I could power through my work days so seamlessly.

“Did Sheldon Tremaine get in touch with Turning Stone?”

“He did, sir. A meeting has been scheduled for next week Friday with Miss Cole.”

I smiled, pleased that everything was going according to plan.

“Excellent. And you made sure he knows to be discreet?”

“Yes, Mr. Stone. I made that very clear.”

“Good. The last thing I need is for Krystina to find out I arranged the deal for her,” I said with a frown as I considered the potential fallout. “She won’t like it.”

Laura hesitated before responding, but when she finally spoke, I could hear the amusement in her voice.

“No, I don’t imagine that she would be very happy.”

I chuckled to myself. Laura was quickly learning Krystina’s independent, if not stubborn, nature. Not happy was an understatement. Krystina would be livid if she knew I called in a favor to get her that contract, even if it was one that she desperately needed. Bryan had given me the numbers. I knew she was struggling. Still, I had to admire her tenacity and determination to make it on her own. In a way, she reminded me of myself when I first established Stone Enterprise.

“Keep me apprised on the outcome of that meeting,” I told Laura.

“I will, sir. Anything else?”

“Just one more thing. I’ll be leaving the office in a few moments. Tell Hale that I won’t need him to drive us tonight. I plan on taking the Tesla.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

I hit the end button on the intercom and spun around in my chair to look out the tall windows in my office, completely oblivious to the Manhattan skyline before me. From fifty stories up, I had a front row seat to some of the most sought after real estate in the country. Instead of appreciating the view, my mind was on Krystina. I thought again about how tired she seemed this morning.

She’s doing too much, too fast.

The last thing she needed was to end the week with the psychiatrist she had been so adamant about us seeing. I had to find a way to convince her to drop it. It was nonsense. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that my instincts were correct. Yes, Krystina was over worked, but the tension between us began weeks before her return to Turning Stone. It all began after we started seeing Dr. Tumblin. We had been through enough. We didn’t need some head-nutter to come between us.

Turning away from the windows, I stood to put on the suit coat that was slung over the back of my office chair. It was time to change strategies. If Krystina didn’t want to see what this was doing to us, then it was up to me to make her see it. That was one of my strengths after all. Convincing others to see things my way was what propelled me to the top of the real estate game. I just needed to take the emotional aspect out of the situation and use that strength to my advantage.

After leaving my office, I made my way to the elevator that would take me to the lobby of my building. During the descent, I contemplated how I should finesse Krystina into my way of thinking.

I could simply refuse to go.

I frowned, knowing that wasn’t the solution. The problem was, my usual patient diplomacy was failing me. I relied heavily on that patience to achieve success. Yet, with Krystina, it seemed to fail me at every turn. The woman, as much as I loved her, drove me completely insane. Nothing ever seemed to be in order whenever she was involved.

My temper was another concern. It flared more often than not during our appointments. To me, that was a very dangerous sign. The blood that ran through my veins was poisonous, and I couldn’t afford to lose control. Not again. I already lost it once with Krystina, and I couldn’t allow a repeat occurrence.

Images of her facial expressions from that emotionally exhausting day on my yacht came to the forefront of my mind. It was the day I told Krystina about my past. I practically choked on every word I uttered that night, despite knowing she needed the truth about my parents. I had been wound tight, and the anxiety caused me to snap.

“Alexander, you’re hurting me!”

Her words were a constant echo in my dreams while I slept. Her eyes, horror stricken as my hands encircled her throat. Her beautiful lips, twisted into a grimace of pain. Yet, even when the sunrise came to chase away the darkness, the memory of what I had done still haunted me.

I cringed from the recollection. Even though it happened months ago, at times it felt as if it were only yesterday.

Forget it. It’s in the past. There’s no changing it.

I shook my head to clear it. I learned an important lesson that day, one that I wouldn’t soon forget. I was reminded of the many fundamental reasons why I had to maintain order and control in everything that surrounded me. However, these therapy sessions almost felt like a power exchange. I needed to put an end to them. Too much was at stake.

When I reached the ground floor, I exited the elevator and walked down the corridor toward the lobby. I spotted Krystina near the main doors. Her back was to me, and she appeared to be looking down at her phone. My eyes skimmed up her legs, past the hem of her skirt, to the delicious view of her behind in the custom-tailored suit.

Perfection.

The corners of my mouth turned up in appreciation. Setting her up with my personal tailor for her business attire was a small stroke of genius on my part. While Krystina had good taste and looked stunning in everything she wore, my tailor had sculpted skirts and pantsuits that fit her flawlessly. Nevertheless, I couldn’t wait to get her home where I could rip it off. I imagined pushing the hem of her skirt up to her slender waist and wrapping those lithe thighs around my hips. My balls tightened as I thought about burying my length inside her, filling her with my seed.

Oh, you’ll be begging for it tonight, Miss Cole.

As I came up behind her, she must have sensed my presence because she turned to face me. Never one to ignore her beauty, I took in her face. She had the most elegant jawline, hard yet soft. Her full lips never failed to draw me in, and it was difficult not to imagine them wrapped around my dick. She looked as beautiful as always, but she was also pale and a little drawn. Faint circles shadowed the underside of her deep brown eyes.

Damn it!

Not wanting to stir up another argument about the long hours she kept this week, I suppressed a frown and threw her a casual smile instead. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Ready to go, angel?” I asked.

“Ready when you are,” she said and smiled in return. However, it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Krystina’s emotions were often written plainly on her face and I could read her like a book. Her forced smile was obvious.

She’s just as tense as I am over these damn appointments.

To me, it was just another reason we shouldn’t be having them. Choosing not to voice my thoughts, I stepped back and took hold of her elbow to lead her out of Cornerstone Tower toward the parking garage. When we reached the deep metallic blue Tesla, I waited for her to properly fasten her seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space.

Once we began the short drive to Tumblin’s office, I noticed that she was unusually quiet. The only sound that could be heard in the car was from the radio, a sultry tune by Bishop Briggs. Another day, I may have suggested that I add the song to one of the playlists I made for her a few months earlier, but today wasn’t that day. Her uncharacteristic silence told me something was bothering her. This was more than just tension over the appointment.

I glanced in her direction. She was staring out the passenger window of the Tesla as I braked for a red light.

“You have that look again,” I told her.

“What look?”

“Like you did this morning. Lost in thought,” I remarked offhandedly.

“I was just thinking about our meeting with the builder next week. I’m curious to see the architects plans for the property in Westchester,” she commented.

I noticed that her tone lacked any sort of excitement and sounded somewhat flat. I also noted how she referred to it in a very impersonal way. She spoke of it like it was just a parcel of land, as if it wasn’t our home that we were building. It was disappointing and troubling. She should have shown more enthusiasm about building our home together, but she seemed detached whenever the subject came up.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to you seeing the plans too. I think you’ll like my ideas and what he’s drawn up to implement them,” I murmured absently, and I observed her pallor once more. “Are you feeling alright, angel?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired. I would kill for some caffeine right about now. Do you think we have time to stop for coffee?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t rely on coffee so much, Krystina. It isn’t healthy for you. Besides, if we stop, we’ll be late for our appointment.”

She frowned and looked at the clock on the dash.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed and turned to stare out the window again. She cleared her throat and I couldn’t help but to notice that she sounded slightly congested. I wondered if she was showing the beginning signs of a head cold.

The light turned green and I hit the accelerator, although I had half a mind to turn around and head for home.

She should be in bed. Resting.

“We can reschedule our appointment if you’d like? I know it’s been a long week for you,” I suggested tentatively, even though I already knew what her answer would be.

“No, Alex,” she sharply dismissed. “This is important. We finally started making progress last week.”

“Hmm,” I murmured. What she called progress and what I called progress were entirely different things.

As if noticing her clipped response, she placed a hand on my knee, gave it a light squeeze, and smiled at me.

“It will be okay,” she said, adapting a softer tone. “Like I said in the email, just try to keep an open mind today. In fact, both of us need to take a different approach to this. We can find a middle ground here. I know we can.”

“Perhaps.”

Or perhaps we scratch the whole fucking thing.

I glanced down at her hand resting on my knee. The passing street lights glinted off the diamond and sapphire ring that I placed on her delicate finger nearly two months earlier, a symbol that she would soon be mine. All mine.

It was strange to think about my life before meeting her. I was successful and wealthy, having never once dreamed of settling for just one woman. From clubs to subs, jumping from one woman to the next had simply been easier. It meant no emotional attachments and a hell of a lot less risk. Until death do us part was never once on my radar.

Until I met Krystina.

She made me realize how dull and mundane my life had actually been. When I proposed marriage to her, she truly shocked me by saying yes. I expected her to put me off or question it in typical Krystina-like fashion. I assumed I would have to work to get her to see my way of thinking, but she had barely put up any sort of resistance whatsoever. She simply said yes. In that moment, I was the happiest man alive.

I was still somewhat astounded by my sudden urgency to settle down, but it wasn’t an unwelcomed feeling. After our chance meeting in a grocery store, she sent my world into a tailspin and she unknowingly changed me. Each day she made me feel new and unfamiliar emotions. She made me realize that I didn’t want to live my life in solidarity any longer. I knew on the day I met her that I wanted her, and I haven’t looked back since.

I cast a sideways glance at her ring again.

Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Stone.

I want that. Now.

If only she would stop dragging her feet.

While Krystina had been steadfast in her commitment to marrying me, her actions showed otherwise. It wasn’t one particular thing that she did or said, but more about the way she avoided discussing any sort of plan. I wanted to get married sooner rather than later. Having our relationship officially set in stone as soon as possible was my top priority. She, on the other hand, was content putting off our wedding for another year or more.

I had no intention of waiting a year and her unwillingness to go over any of my proposed plans was grating on my nerves.

“So, I talked to Justine today,” I casually mentioned.

“Oh? I haven’t seen her in a while. What’s new with her?”

“Her nerves are shot. Did you see the email I forwarded you about the date change for Charlie’s trial?”

“Yeah. I saw it was moved up.”

“In my opinion, the pending trial is getting the best of her.”

“I think all of us are a bit keyed up over that,” she murmured. “I can’t wait for it to be done so we can put this behind us.”

“I couldn’t agree more, angel. I couldn’t agree more. But I know Justine. I think a project would be a good distraction for her right now. She doesn’t handle being bored or anxious very well.”

“So you’ve told me,” Krystina replied with chuckle. “I could talk to her about the program I’d like to launch at the women’s shelter. She might be able to help me brainstorm ideas for helping the rape victims who come to Stone’s Hope. That should keep her busy enough. Unless, of course, you already gave her something to do.”

“Actually, I did. I told her to start researching wedding planners, locations, and florists. It’s something I should’ve thought of sooner. Party planning is what she does best, plus it will get the ball rolling for us.”

“Alex, we haven’t even settled on a date yet, or the type of wedding we want.”

I pursed my lips in annoyance as I stared at the traffic on the road ahead. I wanted to point out that the only reason we didn’t have a date was because she wouldn’t set one, but then I thought better of it. I didn’t want her to get riled up, so I maintained a neutral tone.

“The wedding can’t be anything extravagant, Krystina,” I stated firmly. “Don’t overthink it. Simple is best.”

“What if I want a big fancy wedding?” she asked quietly. Her tone was subdued, but I could sense the challenge in her question at the same time.

I turned to look at her, only to find that her brows were furrowed. I fought the urge to reach out and smooth the creases between her eyes.

“Is that what you want? A big wedding?” I asked, hoping her answer would be no. A big wedding was simply out of the question.

She frowned.

“No, not really.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good, because it’s not an option. Less media attention is better. I’ve had my fill of warding off the press as of late. They’ve been like vultures ever since the accident, and Charlie’s trial has them chomping at the bit,” I spat out loathsomely. “Justine understands that, and she’ll communicate it with whomever she chooses as a wedding planner.”

“Oh. So Justine and her chosen wedding planner are going to decide on it all then?”

Her quiet tone was gone, replaced by one that was extremely sarcastic. The emphasis she placed on my sister’s name wasn’t lost on me. When she pulled away the hand that had still been resting on my knee, I could almost hear the warning bells go off.

Careful, Stone…

“I told her to get with you on the details, angel. Don’t worry,” I placated.

“I see…” she trailed off, quiet and distant once more.

She was clearly upset over something I said. I pressed my lips into a thin line, trying to figure out what it was. We continued to drive in silence, the tension crackling in the air between us.

I slowed the car as we approached the building that held Tumblin’s office. After maneuvering into a parking space, I overrode the automatic power down of the Tesla by pressing the emergency brake, effectively killing the ignition. I then turned to face Krystina. The lighting from the street lamps cast shadows over her face and emphasized the dark circles under her eyes.

“Are you sure about this, angel? You look really tired.”

There was a lengthy pause before she responded.

“Alex, you know I’m sure. It’s you that isn’t.”

The bitterness in her voice made me grimace. Her uncanny ability to read through me never failed to be unnerving.

“Krystina –.”

“Let’s just go in, Alex. We’re going to be late,” she interrupted. And with that, she didn’t bother to wait for me to come around and open the car door for her. Instead, she opened it herself and got out.

I slammed my palms against the steering wheel.

Fuck!

Her abrupt exit from the car was infuriating. However, as I watched her make her way toward the building, my stomach felt like it had lead in it. I was reminded of the last time she exited the car without me; it was the day Krystina left me at Club O. I thought I lost her, and it was a moment in time I never wanted to repeat.

I rubbed my hands over my face, and took a deep and calming breath to rein in my mounting temper. Resigned to another round of psychological warfare, I climbed out of the car and followed her inside.