“He’s married.”
“All right,” she says, “but do let me know if I can play matchmaker. I have very strict criteria and valuable insight into the bachelors working for Damian.”
I laugh, but my heart isn’t in it. Even now, even with this great distance and a wife and a risky escape and all the bad history between us, Maxime holds me hostage. I’m still his prisoner.
“You know what?” I say. “I need to live in the present, not in the past.”
“Does that mean I can go bachelor hunting?”
“Nothing serious. Just drinks.” Even as I say it, I have the ridiculous notion that I’m betraying Maxime. Guilt settles in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. It rises up in my chest and throat, and leaves me strangely unsettled.
The waiter comes to take our order. We both choose a Waldorf salad with honey-drizzled yogurt and berries for dessert. As he leaves, the back of my neck starts to prick. Turning in my seat, I survey the parking. It’s fuller than earlier when I came in. More people have arrived. All the tables outside are occupied.
“Is something the matter?” Lina asks.
Shaking off the weird feeling of being watched, I offer her another half-hearted smile. It’s going to take me a while to stop looking over my shoulder. “Everything’s fine.”
“I’m going to take Josh to build his pizza before our food arrives. Would you like to come?”
“I won’t miss it for the world.”
Getting to my feet, I shoot a last glance at the bushes on the other side of the parking before I follow my sister-in-law to the tables next to the pizza ovens where the kids are rolling out their dough.
God, I really am paranoid. Perhaps I do need help.
Maxime isn’t going to find me. I’m being too careful.
Lina is right. It’s time to move on, or I’ll never be free. At least not truly free.
“You know what?” I say as we dodge a child racing around the mini track in a plastic jeep. “A date sounds like a good idea.”
Chapter 5
Maxime
Standing in front of my open study window, I take in the view. It’s a beautiful late April day, sunny and clear. There’s a bite in the spring air. I don’t mind it. I like the cold. I like the heat, too. I like all the seasons. I like them because of what this house represents. Home.
It’s what I wanted for Zoe, why I gave her the apartment. I only wanted her to have a place of her own where she could feel safe, happy, and relaxed. Since she ran, I had a lot of time to think. I had a lot of time to figure out where I’d gone wrong. I thought reading her needs and meeting every one of them was enough to trap her in my carefully designed web of psychological warfare. Making her fall for me had seemed like the perfect answer at the time. Like my oversight with the one thing she wants more than anything—love—I didn’t take her sense of right and wrong into consideration. Zoe isn’t the kind of woman who can be swayed with gifts or money. My material weapons are useless. She’s immune to them. Not to my charm, but that specific weapon has backfired on me. Falling in love with me seems to have hurt her more than bringing her happiness. She needs love and honor. She needs everything I don’t stand for.
No matter. She’s mine forever. I’m bringing her back, if it’s the last thing I do. It’s going to hurt her. Badly. For that, I deserve this punishment I’m bringing upon myself. It’s going to be hell to bear, but I’ll suffer it gladly. It’s only fair. It’s the only way I can stand hurting her—if I hurt more. Sometimes this all-consuming obsession feels like a vicious circle of never-ending pain. I can never regret finding her. I can never regret the feelings she awoke in my dead heart, not even the blinding pain.
The front door opens and shuts with a bang. Footsteps echo in the foyer and fall louder as they approach the study. I don’t need to turn to know to who the lazy gait belongs. Lazy is nothing but an imitation of confidence, a disguise for a lack of self-assurance. Anyway, I expected him.
Alexis stops next to me, close enough for our shoulders to brush. From the corner of my eye, I see his smirk. He’s staring at me like an eager child, unable to contain his ugly excitement.
I don’t acknowledge him. I continue to take in the view, to remember the moments I loved here most, all of them ironically involving Zoe.
Breaking first, he asks, “How does it feel?”
I turn away from the beauty of the ocean framed by the cliffs. Alexis only taints its perfection with his presence. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Fantastic. Best cunt I’ve ever had.”
I raise a brow. “Does she know how you speak about her? Her honor isn’t mine to defend, but I’m sure her menfolk will take up the task.”
There are two kinds of hatred. The cold kind that fills you with loathing but leaves you unaffected, and the heated kind that devours your soul and eats you up from the inside. When I look at my brother, it’s winter I feel. Cold. The hatred burning in his eyes, on the other hand, is the heated kind. It makes him the loser, always, even when he wins.
“You know they’ll kill you if you hurt her, right?” I ask with growing amusement as his face distorts with the realization of how powerless he is against me. A person only has power over you if you give it to them. To give it to them, you have to care, and I don’t give a shit.
“I’m going to crush you,” he says through clenched teeth, “and I’m going to love every minute
