Chapter 31 #2
He glances between Soren and me, one last time, before shaking his head in something I can only describe as amusement, then dipping out of the room, closing the door behind him.
My attention is back on Soren, who stands up. He stretches, lifting his arms above his head, his lower stomach peeking as the shirt rides up. My eyes zero in on the ink that decorates his flesh, but I force myself to keep my mind on track, flicking my eyes back up to meet his.
I want to discuss the Damien thing, too, but all of a sudden, it’s like all reason vanishes from my mind.
Soren lifts an amused brow, a smirk lingering on his lips. “Take a picture, it’ll last you longer.”
“Oh, I have plenty of pictures you haven’t even seen.”
He frowns. “Do I want to know?”
“Do I want to know what you’ve done with the underwear you’ve stolen from me?”
A beat of silence.
“Point taken,” he snorts, then walks toward the window, opening it ajar. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, lights one, then extends the pack for me to take. It’s the exact same brand I’m using, and with a sigh, I take one, standing next to the window by his side.
“Did you see it?”
“See what?”
I look out the window, the dark night falling over the academy. Harsh January wind manages to sneak through the crack, and I shiver involuntarily. Without looking at Soren, I take a drag of the cigarette, letting the nicotine fill my lungs.
“Why did you beat Damien up?”
“Because I said I would,” he responds almost immediately. “He got off easy, if you ask me. I said I’d break his arms and legs. I held myself back for your sake.”
A scoff slips me, and I turn to look at him. “Don’t you dare say it was for my sake. You can’t do that to people!”
“Evidently, I can,” he responds, nonchalantly. “That was a warning. For both of you. If you allow another man to get as close as Damien did, who knows what else I might do?”
The threat doesn’t go unnoticed by me, and I take a deep breath. It’s irritating how no one can reason with Soren, and I know better than to provoke the beast inside of him. So, no matter how terribly I’m feeling about Damien, I choose to let go of the topic and switch to the more pressing matters.
“Sawyer and Astrid got married.”
The silence is deafening. Soren’s shoulders tense, cigarette hanging between his lips. Slowly, he takes a drag, his eyes burning into the side of my face. He doesn’t move a single inch, the cloud of smoke leaving past his lips.
“Repeat that.”
“Sawyer and Astrid got married.”
I repeat, turning to face him. He was angry when I leaked his sex tape, and when I tattooed him, but this is next level. He looks ready to commit murder, his hazel eyes darkening a shade, and his body trembling a little. The cigarette falls into the ashtray, and Soren’s barely blinking.
“Say something.”
“How do you know?” He asks, his voice low, menacing, and almost threatening.
“Sinners and Saints.”
“Show me.”
I take the phone out of my pocket, unlock it, find the email, then hand it over to him. Soren’s eyes dip down to the screen, his body taut with tension, rigid with all the anger, while he scrolls down. When he reaches the image, his jaw clenches, and I’m surprised he doesn’t crack a tooth.
“Soren?”
I take a small step forward, gently taking the phone out of his hands. He doesn’t look up, still frozen in place. Then, he snaps out of it and starts rummaging through his dorm, looking for his own phone. He slumps on his bed, unlocking it, and I sit right next to him.
“Fuck,” he grits out, and aside from the twenty missed calls from me, he has another fifty from his parents. He sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I can’t believe she would be that fucking stupid.”
“Oh, I’m thinking the same about Sawyer.”
“You don’t get it, Soph,” he groans, rubbing his face with his hand.
The anger simmers beneath the surface, but he’s controlling it, which is a shocker on its own.
He’s not the one to hold back from unleashing his wrath, and the fact that he’s trying to keep the fury inside of him is equal parts admiring and worrying. “She just ruined her future.”
“So did Sawyer,” I sigh, shifting positions. My head rests against the bedpost, my legs sprawled over Soren’s lap. Almost on instinct, his hands come to rub my legs gently, though his mind is far, far away. “You heard my father; he won’t receive any of the business.”
“Yes, but when we were at your house that night, Astrid had a choice. Break it off with him, or get disowned.”
“They wouldn’t go that far, would they? This isn’t some medieval era fantasy, where the nobility disowns the child that dares to marry a commoner? Not that Sawyer’s a commoner.”
“It’s not about that. It’s about the principle. My parents hate your parents more than they love Astrid and me,” he snorts, and my heart aches, for some unexplainable reason. “That’s why I’ve been trying to tell her not to go through with it.”
“You knew they’d get married?”
“I knew they’d do something; I didn’t think they were this moronic.”
“Me too,” I sigh, rubbing my temples. “What do we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Soren turns to look at me. “I might beat Sawyer up, though.”
“Oh, be my guest. Beat him up real nice for me too, okay?”
Finally, a smile cracks through the mask of anger. Well, a small smirk, but with Soren, that counts as a small victory, and I’ll be counting mine in any way I possibly can.
“You’re still not on speaking terms with him?”
I shake my head. “After this, I’ll never be, either. How’s the situation on your end?”
“Our parents took away her allowance, and she’s off the inheritance. I’m not sure what they’ll do now when she’s officially become Mrs. Sloane.”
“Financially, she has nothing to worry about. Even if Sawyer doesn’t end up getting the business, he’s got a hefty inheritance.”
Soren falls silent for a moment, his eyes piercing into mine. He’s itching to ask me something, but he’s holding back. His hands continue to rub my feet and legs, my body relaxing under his touch.
“What is it?”
He doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes searching for mine. “If it were you and me that got married instead—”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not that stupid,” I cut him off with a scoff. “When I get married, I’ll have the biggest wedding of the century. But do go on.”
He rolls his eyes. “If it were the two of us, would your parents have reacted the same way?”
“No,” my response is immediate. “And this isn’t favoritism. They would be upset, and they’d use any threats and measures to break us apart, but eventually, they’d let it go. Because, unlike Sawyer, they know I’d never allow the business to fail.”
He lifts a brow. “And he would?”
“He’s… gullible,” I sigh. “Very smart, but he is also in love, and he sees Astrid through rose-colored glasses. She could ask him to sign off the entire company to her under the pretense of wanting to feel secure in their marriage, and the fool would do it.”
“And you wouldn’t?”
I straighten up. “Never. No matter who I marry, it’ll be the man I love. But I would never betray what my parents have fought for, what my great, great parents have built from scratch. I’d give up a marriage to save the legacy, and unlike Sawyer, I see right through bullshit. He doesn’t.”
“Does that mean I’ll never see the inside of the Sloane vault?” He teases.
I roll my eyes. “If you’re lucky, I’ll show you my bank account.”
He shrugs. “Oh, I already saw that.”
“You what?!”