My Convicted Wife is My Mate (Bella and Kane) novel Chapter 8

chapter 8
BELLA’S POV

His words struck like a shard of ice to my chest—sharp enough to shatter the fragile dream I’d drifted in.

Right, I thought bitterly. This is just a contract. A borrowed life. What did you expect?

“I understand,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm.

“Good.” He stepped back, and the intoxicating scent of him finally loosened its grip on my lungs.

When I emerged from the shower, he’d swept the dust from every corner.

But as I stood there, towel clutched to my chest.

I realized something serious —only one bed sat in the shadowed bedroom.

“Um…” I muttered, pointing awkwardly. “There’s just—uh—”

He smirked. It was subtle but enough to make my heart skip. “So, there is.”

I blinked, unsure how to respond. The way he looked at me with that slightly amused expression made me feel warm in places I shouldn’t. My face heated.

“I can—uh—sleep on the floor,” I blurted. “Or maybe—”

He raised a brow. “Don’t worry. I’ll take the sofa.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I said I’ll take the sofa, Bella.” His tone was soft but final. Not cold… just certain. It was the kind of certainty that made you stop arguing.

I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay.”

When he turned to leave, I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. My chest felt tight. My heart was beating too fast. There was something dangerous about him. He was quiet and had that dominant aura without even trying. He didn’t try to intimidate me, but he didn’t have to. It was there, in his presence, in the way the air changed when he was near.

After he left, I changed into one of my old clothes. When I was done, I crawled into bed.

From the living room, I could hear him. I could hear the sound of his voice as he talked briefly on the phone. I could hear the sound of his footsteps on the old floorboards. These were ordinary sounds—things I never noticed before prison. Things I had taken for granted.

I tossed and turned.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of cold walls, metal cuffs, and blood. But they faded faster that night. My body still ached. My mind was still guarded, but something about his presence… felt safe.

When sleep finally came, it was soft and dreamless.

Here, there were no screams. There were no chains.Just peace.

****

Prison habits never really leave you.

I was up before the sun, slipping out to the market.

I bought a simple tablecloth and picked wildflowers on my way back, their petals still cool with morning dew.

Back at the safe house, I got to work. The tablecloth covered the worn wood, the flowers stood in a jar on the windowsill. I was just setting two plates of eggs and toast on the table when the door opened.

Kane stepped inside. He stilled, his gaze sweeping over the transformed room before settling on me.

"You decorated," he said.

Kane paused in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the room I’d transformed—walls now draped in saffron-yellow cloth, dried wildflowers in repurposed jars on the windowsill.

His piercing blue eyes traced every change, lingering on a patchwork cushion I’d stitched from scrap fabric.

He said nothing, but his shoulders softened.

“They’re all thrift finds,” I admitted, heat rising to my cheeks. “But color… it’s like breathing again.”

He remained silent as I enjoyed breakfast.

I hadn’t lied—I’d ached for this kaleidoscope of warmth. Before prison, my home was a sanctuary where every guest sighed, It feels like sunshine here.

The memory drew a sigh from me now.

Before. When I wore a white coat instead of prison grays, I had been a doctor, a professional healer - a good one. I had everything I’d ever wanted. But when Kathy begged me to take the fall, when I thought I was saving her… my entire world collapsed.

The hospital had dropped me the moment I was convicted. “A murderer,” they said.

But Helen, my childhood friend, didn’t abandon me. She pulled strings and found me work as a cleaner in another hospital. It was a humble job, but at least it was something. It was something honest.

When I was done, I picked up my purse and pulled out some money. It was just a few crumpled bills. Since Kane was a rogue, he would probably need all the money he could get. I wanted to support, to show him we were in this together.

It wasn’t much, still I placed them on the table.

“Here,” I said. “Maybe get something to eat. I’m going to work now. I’ll be back later.”

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