“Even as a twelve-year-old boy, that’s your perspective?”
He nodded. “Yes. Even as a boy. Because he instilled a certain sort of bravery inside me. Because he taught me all that I needed to know. And he did that from the cradle.”
“I don’t want that for our child.”
“Don’t worry. I have no designs on picking up the reins of his criminal empire. I’m happy to let it die with him.”
“Good.”
“I do not have a need for power. But I will claim what’s mine. That is a promise.”
“I know that you… I know that you are angry with me but—”
“This is not a difference of opinion to be solved through a conversation, Emerald. You betrayed me. And I may not have designs on my father’s criminal empire, but one thing I have in common with him is that I do not forgive easily. Or perhaps ever.”
He was not capable of feeling guilt. He had thought that perhaps he was, but the way he felt in this moment proved to him that he was more like his father than he had previously realized.
A pity for them both. But a reality that he was beginning to embrace.
She finished the soup and pushed the bowl forward. “I find that I have spent as much time in your company as I can bear.”
“Good night.”
There was no reason for her to stay.
He might want to spend another hour or so in her presence, but why? It was only mutual torture.
The part of him feared that a lifetime filled with the mutual torture of wanting one another was going to be a hallmark of their relationship.
It had always been thus. And when they’d had each other, they’d shattered the world.
So back to this it was.
It was too late to change course now.
Chapter Eleven
SHE COULDN’T SLEEP. The bed was beautiful, and comfortable, and she was exhausted from everything that had happened in the last twelve hours, but she still couldn’t sleep.
She was dressed in a soft gown that had been provided by Andrei, and part of her felt that she should perhaps resist his gifts. Resist wearing the clothing that he had provided for her, resist… The food, everything.
Except she couldn’t. She was pregnant, and she needed to take care of herself. And also she just… The dichotomy of her feelings for him was overwhelming.
Because in many ways, he was still the man who she had loved for more than half of her life, and then suddenly he was a stranger.
The son of a crime lord. And he looked ruthless. Capable of doing everything his father had done and then some.
She lived in a world where blood was everything. Royal blood meant that you had a duty to the Crown, to the kingdom, to your people. She had long believed that her blood meant that she was destined to be like her mother. To do what she had done, did that mean that Andrei was always destined for this? For a sort of ruthlessness that defied morality?
And then, part of it… She had to take some responsibility for.
She padded out of the bedroom and walked silently down the halls, the carpet soft beneath her bare feet as she went back toward where they had eaten their dinner. Then she walked through that room and into the kitchen. She startled when she saw Rebecca, standing there in front of the oven.
“Oh. Hello,” she said. “I’m just making raisin bread for tomorrow. It’s about to come out of the oven. Would you like a slice?”
Emerald’s stomach growled. “I—I would.”
“Have a seat, dear.”
