Without thinking, I pulled Eva back to my side and kissed her. My tongue dove into her, and my hands curled around her waist, reminding her that I was here. “I’m so proud to call you mine,” I rasped against her lips.
Eva pulled back, her eyes shining. “W-What?”
“You’re amazing, Evangeline. And I will spend the rest of my miserable life showing you how much.”
I meant every word. I made a mental note to fill my home with photos of her, maybe even some of us together. Fuck, I would plan a whole damn shoot if that would continue to bring back some of the lightness she’d lost in here. I would dedicate wings of my mansion to her—a ballet studio, a library, a movie room, whatever the fuck she wanted—and I would make sure that every time she stepped inside, she would know it washers.That as much as she was mine, I was hers too.
Eva smiled, a soft smile but a real one. Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink that matched her dress. “Thank you.”
And my heart tightened. Because for the first time, Eva accepted my compliment. She didn’t throw it away, didn’t try to argue it.
She continued to lead me through the house, her steps now much lighter and her hand back in mine. Eva didn’t bother to explain more of the house, and I didn’t ask her because I didn’t need to hear it.
I’d seen places like this before. Houses built to impress rivals and intimidate allies. Fortresses masquerading as estates. This was the kind of home families like the Vallens prized—filled with old power, the walls practically oozing the blood of the families they stepped on to get there. The sort that believed the city belonged to them simply because it always had.
And maybe it did once upon a time.
But that was before my grandfather came in like a fucking wrecking ball and rewrote the rules. He watched the Vallens kill his brother for getting in the way, and he let his anger fuel an empire.
At first, the Vallens didn’t care about some scum beneath them. Until we became a fucking threat. But by then, it was too late. The power was transferred to my father, and now, my fatherwas slowly handing it over to me. Three generations of Drakov men hungry for vengeance. For my great-uncle and for Liza.
The day they perished was the day I would finally know peace.
I had never seen the Vallen home—the rats were good at keeping it hidden—but I imagined it looked like this, all arrogance built into the architecture. Old money always looked the same when it rotted.
I shoved my thoughts away as Eva started walking down a hallway. She glanced back at me, offering a small, nervous smile.
“The dining room is down here,” she said softly.
I followed, cataloging every exit out of habit, every shadow, every creak of the floor beneath my shoes. The hallway stretched long and narrow, portraits of unfamiliar men staring down at us with flat, unimpressed eyes. I saw traits of my Eva in all of them, in the freckles painted on their faces, in the darkness of their eyes.
But as we got to the newer portraits, I frowned. Something about them, about the stern set of their thin lips and the harshness of their jaws, looked incredibly familiar. Like I’dseenthese people before, if not in person, then in photographs.
I tried to find the most recent picture, hoping to see her father, but before I could, Eva cleared her throat. Her hands were hovering over the handle of the door for half a second before she opened it and led me inside.
The room was massive. A long table carved from dark wood dominated the space, already set with pristine silverware and linens folded with surgical precision. A chandelier hung overhead, casting light that felt more interrogative than warm.
Eva took a seat next to the head of the table, and I followed suit behind her, pulling out her chair before sitting to her left. The room was empty, thankfully, though that didn’t settle theawareness prickling in the back of my head. Whatever storm was coming, the air already tasted like its lightning.
She turned to me, giving me one of those wretched, false smiles I abhorred. I didn’t want her to hide her emotions from me. Every part of her wasmine—including the parts she didn’t think were good enough. “Our cook is pretty good, but if you don’t like what she’s made, you can tell me, and she’ll make something else. And if Jules ever asks you something too personal, you can make a signal or something. I’m pretty good at changing the subject, but sometimes he can be a pain. And if you want to leave, just let me know, and I’ll?—”
“Eva,” I said, tearing her from her ramblings. My lips brushed against hers, and she smiled, though it wasn’t real.
I scowled. “Don’t hide your true feelings from me, Eva.”
“What do you?—”
I pulled her face to mine sharply, and Eva gasped, her hands reaching out to grab the lapels of my suit. I was wearing the shirt that I cleaned her up with yesterday because, yes, I couldn’t resist the urge to wear her juices on me like a badge of honor.
I was a sick fuck for her.
“Don’t lie to me,” I murmured, my voice dark. It was taking everything in me not to bend her over the table and thrust into her from behind, to force her face to reveal something real. “If you aren’t happy, don’t pretend to be. I want the real Evangeline Vale. Not some pretense.”
But instead of looking reassured like I thought she would, Eva’s face fell.
“Alek, about that…” she began, but I didn’t get to hear what she said. Because next, the door opened.
And all hell fucking broke loose.
