“It’s okay, Sebastian, I’m here.”
I bound down the last few steps. “Miss me already, little bro?”
“Please, I only saw you a week ago. It’s been a treat,” he teases, but the hug he pulls me into says otherwise. It’s not like we saw each other daily when I stayed at my apartment, but I’m guessing this is one of those times when people think they can’t reach out.
When he releases me, he smiles at Min. Sebastian coughs subtly to remind me that we’re still in the front entrance, and I haven’t offered my brother a drink. We’ve never been a family of pomp and poise, and Stephan always helped himself to whatever was in my fridge, but Sebastian is all about tradition, manners, and ceremony. That much I figured out on the first day.
“Let’s head to the conservatory. Can I get you a drink?”
He shakes his head and holds out a box. “I just came to drop this off.”
I look at him curiously. “What is it?”
“Some jewelry Mom wanted you to have. It wasn’t with your other stuff, so the movers didn’t take it.”
I take the box from him and swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t know why this thoughtful gift has me feeling so emotional, but I am.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go. We’re doing a stock take at the Braxton warehouse.”
The need to spend more time with my brother is overpowering. Perhaps I’m just looking to have a bit of familiarity around me. Plus, the urge to get out of the house and feel useful again is overpowering. “Need any help?”
“Nice try, but you’re technically still on honeymoon, and I’ve been told that under no circumstances can I let you come.”
“Am I that predictable?”
“No, you’re just a workaholic. This downtime must be killing you.”
“You don’t even know.”
Stephan gives me another hug. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The moment he gets in his car, the sound of tires on gravel has me looking down the drive. I almost turn and walk back inside because heaven knows I don’t recognize the car or the driver, so this is definitely not someone here to see me. Then I remember that this is my home now, and I can’t be rude. Maybe if I repeat that enough, I’ll start to believe it.
A tall woman with blonde hair steps out the car and removes her sunglasses, arranging them perfectly on top of her flawless hair. I recognize her as Marcus’s stepmother. Does perfection run in this family?
When she sees me, her steps falter. “Oh, Esmerelda. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Way to make me feel even more like I don’t belong.
My silence prompts her to speak again. “How are you? I trust the honeymoon went well?”
I honestly don’t know what to say to her. She of all people should know that the only reason Marcus and I are married is because the council forced us. Eventually, I stick with a simple, “Lovely, thank you.”
“Good. Good.” I can see her mind whirring with questions she’s too polite to ask.
No, lady. No heir on its way. We’d have to share a bed for that to happen.
Not that I want to. I’m perfectly fine with the way things are thank you very much. Completely okay with it.
We stare at each other for a while, then she blurts, “Well, we should have a welcome home dinner for the two of you. It will be a great way to get you and Marcus back into the good graces of the council. You know, while the marriage saved us from exile, I heard we’re still on the shit list.” She looks at Min, who she hasn’t acknowledged until now, a fake apology on her face. “So sorry, dear. Family only.”
I’m about to tell her where she can shove her dinner when Marcus steps outside. Are there secret passages in this house? Because damn, everyone just appears out of nowhere. “Of course we’ll attend, Olivia. Just tell us when. It’s our duty, after all.”
There’s an undercurrent to his tone—irritation, maybe? But right now I’m too pissed off to give it anymore thought.
I guess I’ll be playing the dutiful little wife.
