I smile wide. "I don't need a gun to kill you."
I punch him again. This time he's expecting it, and he moves faster than I anticipate. I stumble due to the momentum.
"What the fuck do you want me to do, Saint?" he sneers. "You want me to ask your sorry ass for absolution?"
"There's nothing you can fucking say to me that will make this better."
He chuckles, and my fingers itch to rip his tongue out of his face. "You aren't pissed at me. You're pissed at yourself." He spits out a glob of blood and phlegm at my feet. "She's your wife, and you handed her to me on a silver platter. Not my problem that you regret it."
I take a step towards him, but his fist catches me on the side of the jaw. Not hard enough to knock me out, but I stumble. "Fuck!"
Adrian flexes his hand. "Are you done?"
"No. I'm not fucking done." I go to grab him, but he sidesteps me. "You're going to fix this. You're going to un-disown her. Give her back her name. Her family. Everything you took."
"I'm not," Adrian takes off his suit jacket and dabs at his face with his pocket square. It pisses me off that he's so nonchalant.
"She is your sister. Your blood. You fix this, or I'll fucking kill you. I don't give a fuck about the contract."
He's quiet for a long moment. Looking at me. Really looking. Those silver eyes, that I adore on Gemma, piss me off when I see them on Adrian.
"What?" I snarl. "Do you think I won't kill you? Do you think I give a fuck about you?"
"You love her." He chuckles. "You love her, and you realize how fucked up it was to do what you did."
I'm breathing heavy. I don't know when that started.
"You let another man lay a hand on the woman you love, and now, you have to live with that."
His words slice through me like a knife. He might as well have slipped one between my ribs.
He moves to his desk. Sits, and gestures to the other seat. "Sit."
"I'm not?—"
"Sit. Saint, fuck." His voice is different, tired. "Let me tell you something."
I sit, interested.
Adrian pours two drinks and slides one to me. "Sera's pregnant."
"I'm aware."
"Twin girls."
"Why the fuck are you telling me this?" I ask, confused. "No offense, but I don't give a fuck about your offspring."
Gemma and I have not talked children or pregnancy once in weeks. Not since we learned she wasn't pregnant, and just like Gemma felt slighted by Sera's ease of getting knocked up, I can't help the tight feeling in my chest thinking about Adrian having twin girls.
Is he rubbing this in my face? Soon, he will have three children while I haven't been able to produce one.
But as I look at his face, I realize, he's not rubbing it in.
His eyes are far away as he rubs the blood from his nose.
"We found out yesterday. She's had complications, so we couldn't find the gender until now. Twin daughters." He drinks, closing his eyes. "And all I could think about was Gemma. Howshe grew up. What Bianca did to her. What I did to her." He looks at me, his tongue presses against his teeth, and I can't tell if he's searching for words, or trying to suck the blood from his mouth. "I have daughters coming. And I can't—I can't imagine doing to them what we did to Gemma." He chuckles, shaking his head. "No offense, but I'd never fucking let them marry someone like you. Gemma was smart. Beautiful. Capable. And we wasted her. Destroyed her. Because we couldn't see past her use to us."
I want to tell him that Gemma is all of those things still, but I see an opening. Adrian feels guilt.
