Fake Empire (Kensingtons, #1)

by C.W. Farnsworth

You can’t expect anyone to see you as above them if you lower yourself to their level. Insults say more about the speaker than the intended recipient.

“Kensington,” I correct. Hannah’s brow furrows. “Her name is Scarlett Kensington now.”

“Insult my wife again, and this will be our last conversation, Hannah.”

But that’s the beauty of dreams: they’re yours. No one else’s. You don’t need permission or justification to pursue them. You can give them relevance and importance and meaning all by yourself.

We’ve only been married for a little over a month. And yet, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.

I tilt her head up and trace my thumb across her bottom lip. “Scarlett.” Her name is my favorite word in the English language. I love saying it. Caressing the syllables.

We. I’ve never been part of a we. It just became my new favorite word in the English language. I’m in love with the sound. And the man saying it.

I love him because I want to. Because he challenges me and confides in me. Supports and softens me. I know the moment he enters the room and the second he leaves.