Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 181 - Hundred And Eighty One

The room was quiet, save for the sound of tearing paper echoing in Marissa’s mind. The divorce contract was gone, shredded into confetti on the floor. Derek’s eyes were full of a possessive warmth that made Marissa’s heart flutter.

But Marissa couldn’t help but tease him.

She scratched behind her ear, a habit she had when she was thinking mischievously. She looked up at the ceiling, then tilted her head to look at him through her lashes.

"That was very dramatic, Derek," she said softly. "But..."

She paused for effect.

"But what?" Derek asked, leaning closer.

"But I still have my own copy," Marissa whispered. "It is hidden very well. You can tear yours up, but the agreement still exists in ink."

Derek’s eyes narrowed. The soft, loving expression shifted into a playful, dangerous glint.

"Say that again," Derek warned. His voice was a low rumble in his chest.

Marissa pretended not to hear him. She hummed a little tune, looking away toward the window, feigning innocence.

"I didn’t hear you," she said airily. "Did you say something?"

Derek didn’t speak. He moved.

His arm, heavy and strong, hooked around her waist. He pulled her effortlessly to his side, dragging her across the sheets until her body was pressed flush against his. The sudden movement made her gasp.

He loomed over her, trapping her between his body and the mattress. His face was inches from hers.

"I said," Derek growled, his lips brushing her ear, "say that again, and no one leaves this bed. Not today. Not tomorrow."

Marissa giggled. It was a bright, happy sound.

She put her hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the skin.

"You are a tyrant," she teased.

"I am your husband," he corrected.

He lowered his head. He was about to kiss her lips, to seal his threat with action. His breath fanned across her mouth. Marissa closed her eyes, ready to melt into him.

Knock. Knock.

The sound was sharp and intrusive. It shattered the bubble of intimacy they had created.

Derek froze. He let out a groan of pure frustration. He dropped his forehead onto Marissa’s shoulder, hiding his face.

"Go away," he muttered into her skin.

"Your Grace?"

It was Ian. His voice was muffled by the heavy door, but it was clear enough.

"Your Grace," Ian called out again, sounding apologetic but firm. "Someone from the barracks is here to see you. It is urgent. They say the morning drills require your supervision."

Marissa felt Derek’s body tense. He was the commander. Duty was calling.

She lifted her hand. She ran her fingers through his messy hair, scratching his scalp gently. It was a soothing gesture.

"You should go," she whispered, though she didn’t want him to.

Derek groaned again. He lifted his head. He looked at the door with annoyance.

"No," Derek said.

He raised his voice so Ian could hear.

"Tell him to return back!" Derek shouted. "Tell him the Grand Duke is busy! Tell him I am sick! Tell him I am dead! I don’t care!"

He looked down at Marissa.

"I am not coming in today," Derek declared.

Outside the door, there was a pause. Ian was probably smiling.

"Yes, Your Grace," Ian replied. "I will handle it."

Footsteps retreated down the hallway. Silence returned to the room.

Derek let out a long sigh of relief. He relaxed back onto the pillows, pulling Marissa with him so they were lying side by side, facing each other.

Marissa looked at him. Her eyes traced his features—the strong jaw, the dark eyes, the scar on his shoulder.

She reached out. She traced her fingers down the side of his face. She felt the roughness of his morning stubble. Her fingers moved down to his neck, feeling the strong pulse there.

Then, her hand moved lower, resting on his naked chest, her palm flat against his heart.

"Are you really not going?" she asked softly.

Derek looked at her hand on his chest. Her touch was driving him crazy. It was light, teasing, and possessive all at once.

He reached up and caught her hand. He held her fingers, bringing them to his lips.

He kissed the tip of her index finger. Then her middle finger. He kissed each of them, slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving hers.

"No," he said. "I am not going."

"But the army..."

"The army can wait," Derek said. "I have spent years living for the army. Living for the investigation."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. His expression turned serious.

"You know, Marissa," he said quietly. "I pretended to be a skiver before for a reason. It wasn’t just laziness."

Marissa nodded. "I know. To hide from Liam."

"Yes," Derek said. "To uncover the truth about my brother’s death. Theodore."

A shadow passed over his face as he mentioned his brother.

"And," he continued, "to exempt myself from being the throne’s candidate. The King... he has no other suitable heirs. If I showed competence, if I showed strength, the Council would push for me to take the crown over Liam."

He looked at her intensely.

"I didn’t want the crown," Derek said. "I didn’t want the target on my back. So I played the fool. I played the drunkard. I let them think I was useless so they would leave me alone."

He squeezed her hand.

"But now," he said, his voice firming up. "Now things are different."

"How?"

"Now I have you," Derek said.

He leaned in closer.

"I cannot be a fool anymore," he said. "A fool cannot protect his wife. A fool cannot give her the life she deserves."

He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

"I will be a proper husband," Derek vowed as he smiled, a look of fierce pride in his eyes.

"I will make you Denver’s most enviable wife," he promised. "No one will dare look down on you again. No one will dare whisper about you. They will only envy you."

Marissa smiled. It was a beautiful promise. But a kernel of fear tightened in her stomach.

She removed her hand from his hold. She reached up and tried to arrange his messy hair, smoothing it back from his forehead.

"Derek," she said, her voice laced with worry. "After years of hiding... after years of wearing that mask..."

She looked into his eyes.

"Changing suddenly," she whispered.

"Dropping the act. Showing your true strength. I fear it will endanger you."

She rested her hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension there.

"Liam is watching," she reminded him. "He is suspicious. If you suddenly become the competent, powerful Grand Duke... he will see you as a rival. He will come for you."

She didn’t want to lose him. Not now. Not when she had just found him.

"I would rather have a live skiver than a dead hero," Marissa said honestly.

Derek looked at the concern in her eyes. He covered her hand on his shoulder with his own.

"I know," he said. "I know the risks. I know Liam is dangerous."

He kissed her palm.

"But for you," Derek said, "I won’t act recklessly. I won’t be stupid. I will be careful."

He looked at her with absolute conviction.

"I have something to fight for now," he said. "Before, I only had revenge. Now, I have a future. I will protect us both."

Marissa looked at him. She believed him. She had to.

The heavy conversation hung in the air for a moment, then Derek decided to break the tension. He wanted to see her smile again.

He leaned forward.

He kissed her forehead. A soft, gentle peck.

Marissa blinked, surprised by the sudden shift.

Then, she smiled. She leaned up.

She kissed his nose.

Derek chuckled. It was a low, rumble in his chest.

He kissed her forehead again.

Marissa giggled. She kissed his nose again.

It became a game. A silly, sweet game between two people who had spent too much time being serious.

He kissed her forehead. She kissed his nose.

He kissed her temple. She kissed his chin.

He kissed her eyelid. She kissed his cheek.

They kept on doing it, laughing softly, the sound filling the quiet room. It was innocent. It was intimate. It was the kind of morning they had never thought they would have.

Then, Derek stopped.

He looked at her, his eyes darkening again.

The playfulness shifted into something hotter, something heavier.

"Okay," he whispered. "My turn."

He didn’t aim for her forehead this time.

He moved fast. He shifted his weight, pinning her to the bed with his body. He wasn’t crushing her, but he was surrounding her, claiming her.

Marissa gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders.

Derek looked down at her.

"No more games," he murmured.

He lowered his head. He captured her lips.

He kissed her.

Marissa wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, losing herself in the morning light.