“By your overpowering love for me?” he teased.
I laughed. “Actually, yes.”
“I love you too,” he said. He smiled, and I smiled back. “You think you can handle going back out there, or should I cover for you?”
“I want to go back out. I just need a minute,” I said. My makeup was probably a mess.
I dashed into the bathroom and dabbed at my wet lashes with a few folded tissues, giving my mascara a quick refresh before heading back out to Stefan.
“How do I look?” I asked.
“Stunning, as always,” he said, and then pulled me in for a deep, slow kiss.
Together, we went back into the dining room, ready to face his family as man and wife.
Stefan
Chapter 18
Back at the table, in the aftermath of my declaration, I suddenly realized how good I felt about what I’d said. Better than good, actually. A huge weight was off my shoulders. Reasserting control over my life gave me strength and validation. Power. I’d stated my loyalties resolutely and definitively; now the people closest to me could either support my decision—and my marriage—or stay the fuck out of my way. It was a win-win. Tori and I were officially done making space in our lives for anyone trying to undermine or oppose us.
Refilling Tori’s wine glass, I glanced around at our guests, trying to gauge their reactions to my announcement.
My wife, of course, had been surprised and moved. It was clear by her tears and the moment we’d shared in the bedroom that I’d done right by her. Meanwhile my father had a scowl on his face as he took out his obvious displeasure on his food, shoveling it in, and my sister, the one person at the table who seemed to care for Tori almost as much as I did, was smiling broadly at the two of us as she talked animatedly about her upcoming photography work.
I grinned back at her, happy she was here, bolstered by the knowledge that Emzee was on our team—always had been and always would be.
My brother Luka was staring off into the middle distance with a tumbler of my most expensive whiskey in his hand, undeniably drunk, but that was par for the course for him these days. I watched him drain the rest of the glass and then nearly stab himself with his razor-sharp knife as he tried to cut a piece of steak on his plate. It might have been humorous if he wasn’t such a mess. I made a mental note to look into rehab centers…though I knew convincing my brother to check into one would be the bigger challenge.
And finally, Anja projected an air of obvious discomfort. She was barely eating, picking at her dinner and avoiding eye contact as she forced a smile to go along with Emzee’s happy chatter. If anything, she looked ashamed. I was positive now that she wasn’t a villain like my father. She was just a single mom trying to do her best with a hard life, who’d gotten drawn into a situation that in many ways was beyond her control. I’d make sure, no matter what happened, that she and Max were taken care of. That they weren’t my father’s prisoners and playthings.
Gretna and another staff member bustled in to clear our plates and serve dessert, which consisted of poached pears and white chocolate mousse with an elaborate spun sugar decoration perched on top. As I looked closer, I realized the sugar seemed to be dusted with gold flakes.
“Bon appétit,” Gretna said, bowing a little before leaving the room in her black dress and starched apron.
“Thank you, Gretna,” I called out after her.
I had to stifle a smile—I never made our personal chef wear a uniform, or stick around to serve us. She was merely playing a part tonight, and clearly enjoying the chance to lay it on a little thick, although I hadn’t specifically asked her to do so.
What Ihadmade clear to Tori and the staff, however, was that tonight was meant to be a demonstration of wealth and power. It was the only language my father understood. I wanted him to see that I wouldn’t be controlled or threatened by him. That I was confident enough in my ability to maintain my privilege that I could afford this kind of lavish spending.
Of course, my father was more than done playing second fiddle at this point. Ignoring the artfully constructed dessert, he threw his napkin down and pushed back from the table.
“We’re leaving,” he said, snapping his fingers at Anja.
She obeyed his order immediately, jumping to her feet and going to get her coat. I wasn’t sorry to see my father go, but I couldn’t stand the way he was treating Anja. Especially since he had claimed that he viewed her and Max as part of the Zoric family. How quickly her value had plummeted in my father’s eyes, now that I’d reasserted my commitment to Tori.
“Thank you both so much for coming,” Tori said, rising to follow them to the foyer and escort them out. I knew it was rude not to join my wife in seeing our guests off, but I’d had enough of my father’s pouting. He could stew for all I cared.
The front door slammed, and Luka jumped a little in his seat.
“That went well,” Emzee said sarcastically from across the table.
“As well as could be expected,” I pointed out as Tori came back and sat down again.
Tori smiled at Emzee and Luka and said, “Glad you’re both still here,” though I was pretty sure the comment was directed solely at my sister.
“Of course! Couldn’t let any of this dessert go to waste,” Emzee said, reaching over to slide Konstantin’s untouched dish toward her. “This mousse is a dream.”
