Chapter Seventeen
Romy
B anging on the door jolts me awake. I’m bruised and sore from head to toe. Flashes of last night drift in like a light show.
We had sex.
Multiple times.
In fact, I’m unsure if I got more than an hour’s worth of sleep. Every time I’d crash, Caius would wake me up with some sort of pleasure. The best was waking up with his tongue inside me.
The banging continues, reminding me why I woke this morning. Caius is completely passed out, unaware of the person trying to get us to answer the door. He’s going to have a lovely hangover today.
I clumsily make my way off the bed onto jiggly, weak legs. Turns out, having multiple orgasms throughout the night makes your entire body feel as though you ran a marathon. I have muscle aches in places I didn’t even know muscles exist.
My clothes are nowhere to be found, but I do spy Caius’s white dress shirt tossed carelessly on the floor. I snatch it up and pull it on. While on my way to the door, I quickly make it through enough buttons to make sure I don’t expose anything to the visitor.
“Who is it?” I hiss as I look through the peephole.
Bastian?
Confused as to why he’s here, I unlock the door and open it. Relief floods over his features. He seems genuinely happy to see me. I’m not sure I can say the same about him.
“Can we talk?” he asks, eyebrows pinching together. “Please.”
I cross my arms over my chest, annoyed with the fact I’m barely dressed in front of my brother. He quietly closes the door behind him.
“Want some coffee?” I ask as I make my way over to the kitchenette.
“Sure.”
I turn on the light over that area and notice a pad of paper. A note’s been scrawled on the paper.
Me and the kid went to breakfast with Dad. Sleeping on the couch last night while you two went at it was torture. See you later. - Theo
Now I feel like an ungrateful brat. While I’d been upset over the stuff I’d found in Vivienne’s journal and Caius was hiding from me, Theo comforted me. He ordered me food, watched movies with me, ordered me more food, and made sure Kaitlyn was okay the whole time. Then, when I was feeling lonely and defeated, he got into bed with me and held me.
I know he likes me more than friends. In fact, I’ve played on that before to get him on my side. But what I feel for him is pure friendship. It’s so much different with Caius.
Caius consumes me.
I burn for him.
God, I’m such a bitch.
Bastian paces the floor behind me while I make our coffees. I try to focus on why my brother is here rather than how I may’ve hurt Theo. As much as it pains me to know he was upset, I’m not sorry for crossing into a new territory with Caius.
Things are a mess with everything, but we connected last night. There’s no denying it or changing it. The thought of getting back into bed with him to have round five or whatever number we’re on has my skin flushing hot.
“So,” I say, turning and thrusting the coffee mug at my brother. “Talk.”
His gaze falls to my neck and his eyes narrow. I can only imagine what my skin looks like. Somewhere in the middle of the night, Caius took great joy in “marking” me as he’d said. At the time, it was hot and enjoyable. Now, I’m embarrassed.
“What?” I demand in a defensive tone.
Before he can answer, footsteps thud behind him. I catch Caius’s sleepy eyes as he makes his way over to me in nothing but his boxers .
“Did you make some for me, love?” Caius asks, pecking me on the top of my head as his palm slides under the shirt to grab a handful of my naked ass cheek. “I’m having one helluva hangover.”
I hand him my mug just to get him away from me. Not that I don’t want him because I really, really do, but not with my brother standing four feet away. Caius lets go of my ass to take the mug. He sips and moans while scratching his sculpted, tattooed ribs. A flash of heat ripples through me.
Bastian glowers at him, disgust written all over his face, before jerking his head my way. “Can we talk…alone?”
“Do you want to be alone with him?” Caius asks, barely containing his distaste for my brother. “Whatever you want, love.”
I blush at his words. It’s hard to tell if he really cares or is just riling up Bastian.
“We can speak alone,” I say breathily. “It’s fine. You should go find your family. They went to breakfast.”
Caius studies me for a beat and then nods. “I’d wanted to shower with you, but we can do that later.” He returns the half-empty mug to me and steals a wet, messy kiss that has no business ever being seen by a family member. “Call me if you need me. Don’t leave the hotel.”
I roll my eyes at the bossiness but am grateful he seems to care. I’m feeling too undressed for this conversation, but if I go into my room with Caius, I have a feeling things will get a lot more awkward for Bastian because there’s no way we’d be able to behave.
The grin on my lips is difficult to fight into submission. I feel like I’m in middle school and the guy I like just confirmed he likes me too. It’s silly.
I pluck Kaitlyn’s blanket off the floor and settle on the love seat, pulling it over my bare legs. It makes me feel a little more put together. Bastian, dressed to the nines in slacks and peacoat over what must be a polo shirt if I know him, sits on the sofa. His gaze drifts to my neck again. Whatever he sees there makes his nostrils flare.
We make small talk and I have a feeling Bastian is stalling until Caius leaves. Fifteen minutes later, Caius emerges from the bedroom freshly showered and smelling good enough to eat. His dark eyes devour me as he saunters over to me.
“I’ll be gone an hour tops,” he says, hooking a finger under my chin and lifting my head to meet his gaze. “That should be plenty of time.”
His minty kiss is dizzying. I’m left with lips parted and panting by the time he finishes with me. I stare after him as he exits the suite. Seconds pass before I can look at my brother again.
“He’s got you under his spell.”
The words, angry and abrupt, dig into my skin. “Excuse me?”
“Whatever crazy shit they do to keep people under their thumb,” he mutters. “He’s doing it to you.”
I grit my teeth, anger rising up inside me. Rather than go off on him, I level him with a narrowed glare. “Get to the point of this visit.”
He withers at my tone, sinking back against the cushions. “Fuck. Sorry, Romy. I’m just…my head’s been a mess since the other day.”
“How do you think I feel?” I arch an eyebrow up in question. “My family has done nothing but lie to me for years.”
“I know,” he says with a wounded frown. “That’s why I’m here. To apologize and to be an open book. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
I fidget in my seat and twist one end of the blanket in my grip. “Honestly, I’m less messed up about Megan. That’s…well, it’s frustrating to say the least, but not as hurtful as…”
“Vivienne.”
I give him a sharp nod. “Yep. The nanny who I imagined.”
He has the decency to look ashamed and winces. “That was all Dad’s idea. I was just a kid. I went along with it because he said it would help.”
As much as I want to be angry with him, I know he’s telling me the truth. Dad can be controlling and overbearing. If he says something is law, you’d better follow said law to avoid causing trouble for yourself.
“It made me feel crazy,” I tell him, voice trembling. “The lies screwed my head up, Bas.”
He swipes his palm over his face. “I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. I see how wrong it is now.”
My throat aches with emotion, but I’m all cried out from yesterday.
“Tell me what happened. How did you find out?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, unable to meet my eyes. “One day everything was fine with Vivienne. We were planning a trip to the beach. And then…” He grows quiet for a moment. “There was shouting in the middle of the night. Dad was yelling. I’d never heard him yell like that before.”
Despite my father being a prick, my heart hurts knowing how upsetting it would’ve been discovering someone you’d trusted was doing such horrible things to your baby girl under your own roof.
“They woke me up,” Bastian reveals. “I crept out of my room to listen. Dad was in her room, throwing her things into bags while she sat on the bed sobbing.” He frowns. “She was always so put together—wore heels, makeup, had nice hair and nails. But that night? She was a wreck.”
“Was she caught in the act?” I ask, bottom lip quivering.
He tilts his head, studying me as if he’s shocked I can’t remember such a horrific event. Dad paid good money so I would forget.
“From the bits and pieces of what I heard him saying to her, yes. He’d been saying she was acting strangely and something told him to check on her.” Bastian swallows hard again and looks down at his knuckles. “She said something about how she was shocked he’d hit her. He called her a pedophile who deserved it.”
“He hit her?” I ask in surprise.
“Oh yeah.” He shakes his head at the memory. “Not just a slap either. Clocked her in the head. She was already bruising under her eye by the time I saw her.”
“Where was I?”
“Well,” he says sadly, “that was my question as well. As soon as I realized what had happened, I rushed to your room. At first, I couldn’t find you, but then I found you hidden beneath your dolls and stuffies in your closet.”
I shiver at his words, eyes boring into him so he’ll continue.
“You were mumbling about the monster and you…” He bites on his fist as tears form. “You were naked.”
Tears fill my eyes. So much for being cried out. “Then what?”
“I pulled you out of there, got you dressed in new pajamas, and then took you to my room where you’d be safe.” He sighs heavily. “Dad continued to yell at her and then…”
“She was gone.”
“Yeah, she was gone. Dad came into my room, checked on the two of us, and then left.”
“At what point did he decide making me forget was the answer?”
Bastian meets my stare with a grim one of his own. “I guess after he took you to a therapist. I’m not sure what was said, but Dad said you were going to need something a lot more intensive if you were ever to forget Vivienne and what she’d done.”
In a way, I’m happy I didn’t have to know her all those years after until now.
“Apparently, it worked,” I mutter. “I forgot until…”
Until Theo kidnapped me and I became Caius’s problem. They didn’t keep me on my medication. Plus, they screwed with my head that opened a can of worms rather than whatever desired outcome the Crownes had hoped for.
“We never saw Vivienne again,” Bastian says firmly. “Dad had no idea where she’d gone to. I know he was worried she might come back and try to steal you. You were never to be left alone with anyone but either one of us. I think that’s part of why he was so worried about you going off to college.”
The thought of Dad being worried is too strange of a concept to consider.
“She pretended not to know me,” I say harshly. “I’d felt afraid of her upon meeting her. I had a feeling something bad was going on with her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.” More tears flood my eyes. “She did those terrible things to Kaitlyn too.”
My brother hangs his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Romy. So sorry that happened to you.”
“Well, what’s done is done,” I grumble. “I remember now and know you both tried to keep it from me. It makes me wonder what else in my life is a lie.”
Does my mom really not want to see me anymore like they always claimed? Or is she living a life somewhere, pining over the loss of her daughter? It, too, could be a lie. I wish I’d pressed to see her when I was younger—to make my own determination of whether she loved me anymore or not.
He closes his eyes and huffs. “I know. I know, I know, I know. With Vivienne and what happened with Megan, your trust is shot. I’m sorry it came to this. Just know everything with making you forget about Vivienne was done out of love for you.”
“And Megan?”
“That was for me. Selfish, I know.” His nostrils flare. “That’s why I’m not thrilled with you being with a Crowne. I know what sort of things they’re capable of.”
“You and Dad consort with them. It makes me wonder what sort of things you two are capable of.”
His face turns to ice, reminding me of Dad. “We’re not much different than them. VEIL is more than a global media conglomerate. We have a purpose.”
“Besides telling the news?”
“Sometimes the news needs to be served in portions or flavors people can handle,” he explains vaguely. “We create the menu for our viewers and spoon-feed them ourselves.”
“What does that mean—”
The ringing of his phone interrupts my question. He pulls it out and frowns. “Dad’s calling.” He swipes to answer the call. “Hey, Dad. Yep. On my way. Had to stop to grab some coffee. Be there shortly.”
He ends the call and stands abruptly.
“Where are you going?” I ask with a frown.
“To work. If Dad knew I told you all that…” He shakes his head. “Can it be our secret?”
Apparently, that’s all this family does. Keep secrets from each other.
“That’s all I get, huh?”
He nods and then bends to give me a quick hug. “For now. Maybe Dad will tell you all about the company one day. You deserve to know.”
With those cryptic words, he leaves.
Every time I feel like I have a handle on my life, more questions pop up around me, leaving me more confused than ever before.