His laugh is slow and smug. And even if he looks over at Robin, I can’t stand to do the same. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and if I meet them even once, I’ll break.
“I was just talking to Robin here,” he says, so I cut him off.
“Who?”
His eyes skip back and forth between us, then he breaks into a chuckle. “Oh, Marco. Don’t you worry. You’ll always be my number one.” He accompanies the reassurance with his finger running from my lips down to the point of my chin.
Robin’s head dips, so I sneak a glance at him.
Sandy hair falling in his steely eyes, fixed on the floor, an angry flush about his cheeks.
I keep my voice low, my lips close to the Emperor’s ear, because I don’t want Robin to hear, even though he’ll figure out what I’ve said all too soon. “I realize it’s indiscreet but… seeing you in this… I don’t know if I can wait…”
His hand clenches on my biceps. “Naughty boy,” he declares, far too audibly. Then to Robin, whose head snapped up at the words, “You’ll excuse us. We have business to attend to.”
And he doesn’t let go of me once as he drags me away, regardless of who sees.
They all know. They all whisper, laugh, roll their eyes. Not one of them cares. Not a single one ever has or ever would step in to help.
Julius is perhaps the worst, his lip raised, pure hate-filled disdain hurled at me from across the room.
But it’s not Robin being dragged away to do this. It’s me. And even if he hates me, I’m thankful for that.
So I walk on, out the gilded doors, through the towering marble hall, past the statues, and the paintings of the ancient civilizations he’s desperate to replicate, along the cool and perfumed walkway, and to his office, the closest privacy to the ballroom.
The door slams closed, and reality sets in.
I knew what I was doing. A thousand times over, I knew. I did it in front of every sponsor and every man I have to train and kill in the arena. I did it for him, and I would do it again.
But now I’m cold.
Now my back’s against the heavy mahogany door, and it’s just the two of us.
It’s time.
His fingers glide over the curves of my chest, and my body recoils, nothing like the fire that Robin lights beneath my skin.
He pulls the top of my robe open, and my nipples harden with the cool air, nothing like the desire one look from Robin sparks in my chest.
“You couldn’t wait?” he asks.
“Not another second.”
It’s some kind of truth. Unlike the lie I try to tell myself when I close my eyes and picture Robin. When I try to think of him on my couch, in the locker room, on the floor of the gym when he let me brush his beautiful hair… When he let me hold him in my bed…
But the lips that meet mine are thin, shaped with cruelty, and impossible to imagine away. The smell is wealth and a type of power, but there’s no sunshine here, no real strength. None of the things I crave daily—that I tasted once—and now they’re gone and here I am againand maybe forever.
I press back against him, try to make myself want this, try to think of what’s waiting for me if I can just get through the rest of this season.
He grabs my hand, places my open palm on his stomach, then forces it down, slowly, like I should be enjoying this.
“What the hell is going on?” The sharp sound snaps the room in two.
Julius, standing in the open doorway across the room.
“Get out!” the Emperor snaps, wrenching his robe closed. I do the same, only a little slower, so shocked at the entry. “What are you doing, Julius!”
“You are supposed to be throwing a party,” Julius seethes through gritted teeth. “Everyone knows what you’re doing in here. You’re making a laughingstock out of the whole family.”
