Chapter 69

***Levi***

We sat silently for a while. She, contemplating my words. Me, dispelling my hurt.

Mum had died from prolonged smoking, which she had imbibed, all those years ago, to dissipate her suffering.

But it hadn't worked. Rather, it had taken her life, when all my wealth streamed in. Everything I had amassed for her and yet, she had left too soon. The only consolation was that she had somehow enjoyed a bit of it. The house in Malibu had been hers. That's one of the reasons I avoided the house. The memories there. Miami was my tuff in those days, while mum just stayed in Malibu, drinking in the sun as she always loved.

"Am sorry about your mum."

I heard Kenya's quiet voice. She too had lost a parent; she must understand how I felt.

"Thanks." I smiled.

I forked my food, the taste bland in my mouth. I missed mum, it hurt sometimes. If dad had not been so callous with everything, mum wouldn't have succumbed to the cigarettes to drive away the humiliation she felt. Working those jobs night and day, to put food on our table and clothes on our backs.

"Then why do you smoke?" Kenya softly accused. I raised my eyes to her. No judgement in her eyes. Just curiousity.

I chuckled. "Not always. Just when am tensed. When I crave something that I can't have." I baited her. Her eyes briefly widened, making me smirk. She got my message. I returned to my food.

"Why can't you have it?" She asked.

I returned a startled gaze to her. Her expression, innocent, but I saw something there. *Seduction*? A hint of nonchalance. *Oh she wanted to play this game.* Choosing to play along with her, I replied.

"It's reluctance to yield to me. Fighting me at every turn." I drawled.

My voice dropping, teasing. I picked up a tomato slice and popped it in my mouth. She followed my lips with her eyes, swallowing. I smiled inwardly. She got my drift. Something dark and sensual stirred in the air. The tension crackling, suffocating. Needing an outlet, for release.

"Maybe you're wrong. Maybe this thing you crave prefers other methods. Prefers other worlds." She defended.

I paused, gauging her. She had pain in her eyes, and I couldn't tell why. She got a chance to tease me, yet she was gloomy.

"I..."

"Hey Levi." A female voice a few steps away from us, interrupted me.

I looked up to see Mona hurriedly stepping forward, her hands already wide for a hug. In no time, she closed the distance between us and I couldn't help but hold her, as she fell into my lap.

Beautiful, soft, warm, just like I remembered. Her expensive perfume, already veiling me. But this time, it didn't do wicked things to me. It only assailed me. My eyes hastily drifted to Kenya, gawking at us. I quietly rose to my feet, bringing Mona along.

Feeling awkward at the pair of eyes that assessed us, I spoke.

"Baby, this is Mona Hera. She's one of Victoria's top models. Mona, my beautiful wife, Kenya." I managed the introductions, without Kenya's glares shooting me down. *Was she jealous*? She looked flabbergasted. I liked her jealous.

"Hi, Mona. Nice to meet you." Kenya greeted, smiling. Mona nodded arrogantly and turned back to me, stroking my exposed tattoo. I frowned.

"Darling"

"Mona." My tone was menacing. "I think my wife just greeted you." I watched her, irritated. She stared at me, astounded, before she turned to Kenya.

"Hello." Mona arrogantly let out, dryly. Her gaze returned to my expressionless eyes, which stared darkly at her. What she saw there, startled her.

"Levi"

"I don't condone rudeness to my wife, Mona. And you just did. Apologize properly, immediately or this meeting is over." I was firm. Both women gasped. I didn't have to see Kenya's face to recognize her bewilderment.

Mona hesitantly muttered, her gaze on Kenya. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Kenya replied and shifted her eyes to me. There was a brief sadness there. Then quietly she rose to her feet, excusing herself from the table. I was upset.

"I can't believe you'd do that to me, Levi. Make me apologize to her."

A scowl marred my face as I stared back at Mona. Her eyes held tears as she continued. "I heard of your marriage, while I was in Paris. But I hadn't expected the devotion I just saw. You never had that when you were with me. Perhaps I could have paid more attention to you then." She sniffed, flicking a few strayed tears away.

I quietly considered her words.

Mona and I had dated, two years ago. We had gone out a few times. Enjoyed public appearances together. The sex. But we had never attached any labels to our relationship. A mutual agreement to just have fun. To have a beautiful woman beside me, because Mona was model beautiful. American's one-time top model. But I grew bored and things just, stopped. Both of us into our lives, it never would never have worked. *So what made her say such thoughts now that I was married?*

"We had fun, Mona. We wouldn't have worked out." I revealed, calmly.

Her gaze was steady on me. Her lips pulled into a tight line. Her black hair, singly braided and her olive skin shone from the stray sun rays. Yes, Mona was extremely beautiful, but she would never be compared to the woman I was married to.

Kenya was fire and I loved that I was the only fireman that could douse her. Drench her in all the passion I could summon. Mona was spiritless. One of the women that was carried away by my charm, my wealth. Kenya however, wasn't impressed by all my achievements. A surprise that she even checked me out on the internet. Or that she noticed I smoked.

With Kenya, I was the real me that I lost, 20 years ago.