I realize the moment I take her back there, things will be different. There is one more thing we need to do when we get back to New York, a trip I haven’t yet told her about. I need to have a chat with Yasmin. She’s most likely going to try her bullshit with me and try to get into my good books, but I’m married, and that’s not changing, unless Scarlett tells me to leave.
And even then, I may not obey.
“I think you need to put on something less distracting,” I tell her as I pull her closer to me. My hands grip her hips, her body flush with mine. “Because tonight, all I’ll be able to think about is fucking you on the dinner table while your parents watch.”
“Stop being such a filthy animal,” she accuses with a smile on her face, as she slides her delicate hands over my shoulders and loops them around my neck.
“You love it when I’m filthy,” I counter, to which she cannot argue because I’ve seen how her pupils dilate with desire when I gift her my dirty words.
“Only when we’re alone,” she informs me before pressing a kiss to my mouth which I quickly deepen, my tongue dancing along hers, tasting the sweetness of my wife. When I finally pull away, her gaze is shimmering. “Thank you for being here tonight. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
“You’ll never have to do anything without me again,” I promise, and it’s one I intend to keep. There’s nothing that can tear me away from her. “Ready?”
Scarlett nods, and I realize she’s nervous. I can read her like a book, and tonight is most definitely not going to be easy on her. With the number of secrets that have been spilled over the past few weeks, I doubt anything can shock me anymore, but as we make our way down to the dining room to wait on our guests, I wonder if tonight will illuminate more hidden truths.
28
Scarlett
I’ve only had a couple of sips of my drink when the doorbell goes, and I see one of the staff making his way to the door to open it. Even from here, I can hear my father’s voice, deep and commanding, something he and Lycan have in common.
Only, when Lycan gifts me his commands, it’s filled with affection. My mother’s voice bounces through to where I’m standing, her carefree laugh is something I didn’t miss. She never called once to check on me. Even after I got my phone back from my grandmother’s home the night of the gala dinner. Something I thought would come naturally didn’t come at all.
“Darling,” she greets with a wave of her hands when she enters the dining room. Draped in a black dress that sweeps along the floor, she looks ever the public figure, but she’s nothing like the person she portrays in company. “I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” I challenge, stepping back when she tries to lean in for a kiss. I don’t want it and don’t need it. My anger has a hold of me, and the fake smiles and words are no longer something I will put up with. Her face falls when she takes me in.
“Of course, darling,” she responds. Her mouth gapes in surprise when I don’t make a move to give her air kisses either. “Now that you’re married you want to act like an adult?” Her tone takes on a cold, unfeeling grit that makes me even angrier than I was moments ago.
“I’ve been an adult for a long while. You just didn’t notice because you were too busy making sure everyone else loved you, not at all bothered that your daughter felt like a stranger.” I don’t know where my words come from, but they fall free as I look at the woman I don’t know. I’m nothing like her. She’s nothing more than the person who gave birth to me, she’s not, and never will be a mother.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that, Scarlett,” my dad says, or shall I call him a sperm donor because that’s what he is.
“Oh look, the man who sold me the first chance he got just so he didn’t have to go to jail,” I bite out through gritted teeth. This was a mistake. I want to run and hide, but Lycan’s hand on my lower back steadies and grounds me. His touch is warm, strong, and I take a long, deep breath.
“Good evening,” Lycan greets, not wavering under the clear scrutiny of my father. “I think we need a few drinks in here. Don’t you?” His tone is light, but it’s laced with a threat they clearly notice because my dad’s face turns to ice.
“We do.” This comes from my mother, because of course she’ll need alcohol to get through a dinner with me. I’m used to it. I’ve grown up with her either drunk on expensive wine, or with her head in the clouds from the Valium she loves to swallow.
Lycan moves around me toward the cabinet where the tumblers and bottles of alcohol sit. “What would you like, Marinda?” he questions, keeping his tone calm, while I’m anything but relaxed.
“White wine, please, Mr. Shaw,” she answers, and I see Lycan’s shoulders tighten at the way she says his last name. I’m also certain my mother knows that grandad is guilty of killing Conall Shaw. There’s no way she wouldn’t know.
Lycan returns with a white wine and a tumbler with a double shot of whiskey for
