Scorch (Virtues & Lies Book 2) Read online

  Scorch

  Virtues& Lies Book 2

  Alexandra Silva

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About Alexandra

  Also by Alexandra Silva

  ©2019 Alexandra Silva

  Scorch: Virtues and Lies Book 2

  Cover design and formatting by LJDesigns

  Cover image by Regina Wamba

  Cover model is Anthony Kemper

  Editing by One Love Editing

  Proofreading by All Encompassing Books

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Meet me

  where the end begins,

  in echoes,

  where your world is me,

  and my world is you.

  Perry Poetry

  Prologue

  Christopher

  My heart is thumping in my chest. You’d think it’s nerves the way it’s making me sweat, but it’s all excitement. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. And watching my gorgeous bride walk towards me, her belly swollen and a teary smile on her beautiful face, I can’t contain the happiness swelling my chest.

  “You okay, man?” Casper, her brother and my best man, whispers with a knock to my shoulder.

  I can’t find the words to tell him how fucking incredible I am. And the best part of it all, is that she looks just as happy as me. The small bouquet in her hand shakes as she reaches me. And before her father, the Deputy Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, hands her to me, she’s already handing her sister her flowers and grabbing hold of my hand.

  “Hey,” she murmurs, her nose scrunching with her broad smile.

  “Hey, morena.”

  Her eyes flutter at the endearment, her hand squeezing mine. “I’m early.”

  “And beautiful.” Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of her head, I take a moment to memorise the elation glowing on her fetching face.

  The last few months have been fraught with tension, disaster after disaster, but her strength has never wavered. She’s been a rock, and I know just how lucky I am to have her.

  Arabella Gladstone wasn’t just bred for this life; she was born for it.

  Benedict gives me a firm pat on my back before he joins his wife and my parents. There aren’t many other guests apart from a handful of our closest friends. We wanted to keep this low-key and private, unlike the big production that our mothers have been helping Arabella plan for the last few months.

  The registrar goes through all the formal introductions and readings. She’s quick and to the point, something we made sure of when we had our meeting with her.

  “Are you, Christopher Alfred Sinclair, free to lawfully marry Arabella Louise Gladstone?”

  I chuckle lightly at the way Arabella rolls her eyes at the full use of our names. “I am.”

  “Are you, Arabella Louise Gladstone, free to lawfully marry Christopher Alfred Sinclair?”

  “I am.”

  She squeezes my hand a little tighter, our side glances meeting, and with her rich chocolate eyes so bright, I can’t help but smile. My heart races a little faster as we get to the part we’ve both been waiting for.

  “If you could both face one another.” The registrar gestures for us to turn, and although her dress isn’t big or over-the-top, I can’t help but laugh at the way Arabella kicks the hem so she can move. Her belly touches my stomach as our toes meet, and it’s got to be the most perfect moment we’ve ever had.

  And it really gets her too, because tears fill her eyes, and before she can blink them away, they tumble down her cheeks.

  “Oh Jesus…” She shakes her head, taking a deep breath, and before I take her other hand, I pat her tears dry. “Bloody hormones!” she whispers.

  God, I love her so much. I don’t think she’ll ever fully understand how much.

  Taking her other hand, I pull her closer so that her feet are sandwiched between mine and our bodies are as flush as can be. Her belly presses to me tight enough that when our little girl moves, I can feel her.

  Fuck, my insides tremble with so much emotion, I have no idea how I’m holding it together anymore. Up until this point, today was about Arabella and me becoming tied to one another in every possible way. But standing here, like this, I realise that this is so much more. We’ve always been bound to one another. Through all our ups and downs. Break-ups and make-ups…there was never any doubt that in the end it would always be me and her.

  But right now, like this, we’re not just me and her. We’re not us. We’re a family. Me and my girls. And fuck if that isn’t something that makes everything we’ve gone through worthwhile.

  I know today is bittersweet for her. With all the people we care and love around us, Kit is missing. Her best friend. The one other person she would love to share our day with, and he’s fighting for his life.

  My heart pains for her, because I would give anything to make her happy. I would do anything to have him here. For Arabella, I would move every motherfucking mountain if I could. I’d tear down heaven and raise hell just to make her smile.

  This woman, she’s not just my existence—she’s my soul.

  “Repeat after me. Christopher first and then Arabella.” The registrar looks and sounds like she’s about to join in the tear fest. “I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Christopher Alfred Sinclair, take you Arabella Louise Gladstone, to be my wedded wife.”

  As I repeat her words, my breath snags. It feels like we’re on the precipice of making every one of my dreams come true.

  The registrar repeats the words for Arabella, and even before she’s finished speaking, Arabella is already going. “I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Arabella Louise Gladstone, take you, Christopher Alfred Sinclair, to be my wedded husband.”

  “The rings?” Looking between us, the registrar smiles.

  Casper stands beside us, searching the inside pockets of his suit jacket. As he swallows down his fading smile, his eyes flit from me to Arabella. I know he’s winding her up because he’s the most responsible guy I know.

  “Casper!” Gritting at him through her
teeth, she gives him a scowl.

  “Okay, okay…” He takes the royal blue box from his trouser pocket, opening it before he hands it to the registrar.

  She looks a little intimidated by the sheer size of him. The tattoos visible on his hand and neck probably don’t help her perception of him.

  Handing me Arabella’s ring, she takes a step back. I made sure to let her know I had this bit covered earlier.

  I thread the gold-and-diamond band onto Arabella’s finger, up to her second knuckle. Her lashes glitter with her happy tears. Taking a moment to gather myself, I let my eyes wander over her stunning face. All I want to do is kiss every delicate inch. I want to smother her with all the love I can’t contain.

  “When I first saw you, I had no clue that we’d end up here. Me, you, and our little girl. I always knew that you were it. My future. You look at me and I see all the things we can be and do together. You’re remarkable, and your love…your strength, it gives me hope and joy. They make me a better man. A man who will always love you messily, fiercely, and relentlessly. I can’t promise you perfection, but I vow to always protect you from harm. To stand beside you through the good times and to carry you through the rough ones.” My breath hitches with the hiccup of her silent sob. Her hand trembles in mine, and I hold it a little tighter. “I promise to always listen to your advice. I’ll even take it once in a while.”

  She chuckles at that with a shake of her head.

  “I promise to never brag, even if I always win.”

  Her chuckle rumbles to a quiet laugh.

  “I promise to always cherish and honour your big, feisty, and resilient heart, Arabella Gladstone. You’re my breath, my heart, and my life. Forever would be nothing without you. I love you.”

  There’s a silent pause, and when I thread the ring over her knuckle, there are audible sighs and sobs from our guests. Bringing her hand up, I lower myself the rest of the way down to press a kiss to her band.

  Arabella’s a shaking, teary mess, and I know it’s not the done thing to kiss your bride before it’s all official, but fuck it. I haven’t kissed her in over twenty-four hours; I don’t want to wait another second.

  Patting her cheeks softly with the back of my fingers, I dry her tears. Her eyes flit between mine with her heaving breaths, and as I cup her face, I bring my lips flush to hers. Savouring the warmth of her skin, I wrap an arm around her waist, lifting her onto my toes. She’s so tiny that I still have to bend my knees in order to reach her.

  “I love you, Belles.” I press another kiss to her plump lips. “Forever will never be enough. Ever.”

  Hands grasping onto the lapels of my suit jacket, she pulls herself higher, the tips of her toes rolling on mine.

  “Good,” she breathes, eyes boring into mine. “I don’t want forever, Christopher, or a lifetime. I want eternity. Moons, suns…history. Infinite light years. Forever will never do.”

  Sucking her lip into my mouth, I silently vow to give her all the time and history she wants. I vow to spend eternity loving and protecting my soul.

  “You’re not married yet!”

  “Shut up, Freddie!” I spit at my cousin, lowering Arabella back onto her feet.

  “Okay,” the registrar laughs when we’re settled again and Freddie’s gotten back in his box. Twat!

  Arabella takes the black-gold-and-onyx ring extended to her, threading it all the way down my finger without any hesitation. “There. You’re mine, to infinity and beyond, Christopher Sinclair. I love you, cariño.”

  Throwing her arms around my neck, she pulls me down to her, crushing her lips to mine, her fingers twining in my hair as her tongue licks into my mouth.

  I drop my hands down to her thighs and lift her until she’s looking down on me, the tips of our noses pressed to one another, her smile beaming down on me. And I really do believe that happiness is something tangible. I can feel it radiate between us, and I swear even our little girl feels it because she’s going crazy in her mama’s belly.

  “Mrs. Christopher Sinclair,” I murmur before pressing another kiss to her lips. “Sounds good, don’t you think?”

  “Perfect.”

  Reluctantly I put her down, twisting my fingers in her soft, long brown curls. I kiss her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then slowly I touch my lips to hers one more time.

  I could kiss her for the rest of time, and it would never get old.

  “Let’s make it official.” Twining my fingers with hers, I take her to the table the registrar is standing over, a pen in her hand ready for us to make this binding.

  Pulling out the chair for my wife, I help her sit and then hand her the gilded pen my grandmother brought with her. It was my grandfather’s. He used it to sign all the most important contracts. He used it on their wedding day. My parents used it, too. And now, we’re using it.

  My eyes cloud over with tears at the ache in my chest. I miss him. He should’ve been here. He should be sat with our families, celebrating with us. Instead he’s dead. Murdered.

  I’ll avenge him yet though.

  Watching as Arabella signs her name, I take comfort in the thought that he’s looking down on us. Although I can’t hear him physically, I can imagine the prideful words he would have said. How happy he would’ve been for us. He loved Arabella like she was his own grandchild.

  He was always asking for great-grandchildren… My hand drops from the back of the chair to Arabella’s belly as I lean over her to sign.

  Taking the heavy pen from her, I hold it tight in my grasp, taking a second to let everything sink in. To memorise every little detail.

  I wrap my left arm around Arabella’s shoulders and sign the register. Crouching down beside her, I let our mothers get their photos. They look like they’ve just sat through one of their chick flicks with all the hearts in their puffy eyes.

  Once they’ve taken enough, I stand to help Arabella up so that Casper and Georgina can sign the register too.

  Whilst they’re doing their best-man and maid-of-honour duties, I allow myself another good look at my wife.

  The floral and feathery lace of her ivory dress makes her olive skin glow. It moulds to all the dips and curves of her petite body, and all I want to do is get her back to the hotel and strip her of it. I don’t care how beautiful she looks in it. I want all her skin.

  “My husband,” she says, stretching up on her tiptoes. Her hand cups my face, her thumb stroking the top of my cheek.

  “My beautiful wife.”

  “Do you like my dress?” she asks, spinning in front of me.

  “I think I’m going to love it more when it’s on our hotel room floor.”

  “Me too.” Eyes wide on mine and a flush staining her cheeks, her teeth sink into her full lip.

  Swallowing, she comes closer, her hands slipping under my grey jacket and settling on my hips. Her face burrows into my chest, and holding her—my wife—is the most incredible thing I’ve ever done.

  My heart feels so big in my chest that it might break me apart. I can’t understand how it’s possible to have so much love for one person. I would give my life for this woman and our child. I would lie, steal, and kill for them.

  Our guests surround us, congratulating and fawning over Arabella. I don’t let go of my girls until we have to leave the registry office.

  Although this feels like the best day of my life, I can’t help but wonder what it will feel like to hold our daughter. I can’t wait to meet her. To share all the love her mother and I have for each other with her.

  Sitting in the back of her grandfather’s vintage Bentley, Arabella puts her feet up on my lap. All the excitement has taken it out of her.

  “Tired?”

  Her face falls as she looks at me. “Absolutely not. This dress has a date with our bedroom floor.”

  “I’m sorry we can’t do more today.” Taking her strappy heels off, I rub her swollen feet. “I know it’s not what you wanted…”

  “Christopher, I wanted to marry you.” She
’s trying to hide her disappointment; I can tell from the way her hands clasp tightly in her lap. “Now I have. I’ve married the love all fairy tales talk about.”

  Except our life isn’t a fairy tale.

  “You deserve more than a three-course meal and a night in a hotel.”

  Dropping her feet off my lap, she brings herself closer, stretching her legs the other way. “Listen to me, Christopher Sinclair. I couldn’t give a shit about some massive party. We have that coming, and it won’t be half as amazing as today. Today was for you and me, and it was perfect. Now I can’t wait for you to strip me naked and fuck the life out of me.”

  The car pulls up to the back of the hotel, and before I’ve had a chance to gather my thoughts of all the ways I want to get lost in her, security is opening my door. It’s impossible for me to miss the way her chest deflates as her state bodyguard looks in and begins to tell us how we’re going to go about getting to our suite.

  It doesn’t matter that they’ve rolled out a red carpet and strewn it with white petals. It doesn’t matter that the hotel courtyard is filled with all the beautiful blood-red roses I requested. I feel like I’ve already failed her. She hates all the security, the constant eyes on us, but we don’t have a choice right now.

  Following the security detail to our room, I pause as we get to our floor. The Goring Hotel is small enough that lifts aren’t really needed.