“Calla,” Dahlia whines, but smiles as the little one kicks.
In this moment, she’s not the feared assassin, just a future aunt.
They slip out, but not before Calla says, “You’re Viviana Kinkaid now. Pretense alone will not suffice. It’s you against the world. And in ours, only those who keep together grow stronger.”
I can’t hide here anymore, so I walk out with them.
Dahlia’s husband puts a protective arm around her waist, and Enzo takes Calla’s side, kissing her in front of everyone. Not caring about showing his feelings.
“Are you okay?” My sister reaches me, glaring their way with sheer loathing, and shrieks. “Were you alone with them in the bathroom?”
Not that I don’t cherish my sister’s protective nature toward me, but I don’t think Dahlia could hurt anyone, and no one could stop Calla from doing it if she wanted to.
“We just chatted.”
“I can’t believe she went on to live her best life. No punishment,” my sister grumbles, voice dripping with hatred.
“You don’t know her story, Chiara.”
There’s a bit of hurt flashing in her eyes. “True, but it’s insulting how they behave.”
“Like they’re happy? In love?”
She purses her lips. “Yeah, for how long?”
“I just hope both sides will get over it,” I say wistfully.
I said the wrong thing, considering she stares at her with a frosty glare. “Never.”
Stubborn.
I can’t shake the nagging feeling that my being put in the middle will be a constant.
My sister joins her found family while I remain alone in the middle of a crowd, feeling lost, drowning. No one is there to hear my cries for help, to reach out and drag me from the bottom of misery.
My chest heaves, the panic rising, causing everything around me to spin. Everyone glances at me without peering through the mask. That I am freaking out. That I am shouting on the inside.
Tristan strides to me from across the room, discarding Vian and Rafe, and he leads me outside onto the terrace.
I inhale a deep breath, the fresh air instantly soothing my burning lungs, and my attention shifts to my surroundings.
The terrace looks spectacular, with hundreds of peonies and candles scattered around the garden, the fountains and sculptures adding a touch of fairyland. At the same time, a concrete jungle surrounds me—an oasis in the middle of the city.
“What do you want?” I snap, hating that, of course, he had to be the person to see me losing it and save me. My husband, my enemy, the person who knows me best. I am screwed, but I just won’t admit defeat.
Never again will I reveal my vulnerabilities to him. He can’t be the one to comfort me after he ripped my heart out and stomped all over it, crunching it under his merciless soles.
He slips his hands into his pockets and cocks his head, his intense gaze boring into me. “How long do you plan to punish me?”
The audacity.
I open and close my mouth, deciding to keep silent. Ignoring him, I drop onto the bench, crossing my arms on my chest in a clear sign of protest. He deserves nothing from me, not even words.
“Fine. Then let’s enjoy the silence together.”
He sits next to me, his scent intoxicating me, every muscle in my being pulling taut with desire. Every fiber is tensing into an electrically charged wire.
Fuck the asshole for conditioning my body like I am some Pavlovian dog. I’ll bite his head off and chew his cock.
