Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Soft classical music floated above our heads. The gold and marble sixteen-sided room glinted with candlelight and soft firebulbs. The bright moon peeked through the windows far up in the dome, casting a romantic glow on the vast space.
Glittery ballgowns, twinkling jewels, and crystal goblets danced and twirled around me, creating a world of dreamlike perfection.
Elaborate and over the top, food and drink grotesquely overfilled every table and tray even more than usual. The finest china was set out, suggesting this wasn’t a typical party, but a sit-down meal. Istvan only did those when something was of top-level importance.
“Wow! You look gorgeous.” Hanna strolled up to me, her mouth open. “I mean . . . damn.”
I scoffed, swiping a glass off a tray. “Thanks.”
The deep blood-red dress Rebeka had me wear was the pinnacle of an ostentatious evening, staining my soul.
Hundreds of tight hand-stitched roses decorated the huge skirt, while the top was almost pure silk lace.
Only my breasts were covered, while the rest of my skin showed through, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
She had Maja straighten my hair until it laid like black glass down my waist, and she painted my lips red while I sat there like a doll.
I felt like the Russian dolls my father brought me from his family’s homeland—beautiful, wooden, and hollow.
Deep down, I was suffocating. Dying a slow death here.
“How are you holding up?” Hanna rubbed my arm, her head tipping in compassion. “I know this must be difficult.” She motioned around with her champagne glass. “I know I’d be in my room with ice cream and Pálinka right now.”
A feeling in my gut told me she wasn’t just talking about me being back.
“What are you talking about?”
“The celebration.” Her brows bunched together.
“What about it?” My throat went dry, and I felt a sinking sensation in my belly.
“You don’t know?” Her eyes went wide, her mouth parting. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That bastard! That is messed up and cruel. Especially how he was with you at lunch the other day. He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Should have known he’d cower out of telling you.” She peered around, looking for someone.
“Tell me what is going on, Hanna.”
“Oh no, the messenger always gets whacked. He needs to have the balls to tell you himself.”
“Tell. Me.” I faced her, my teeth gritting together, my voice vibrating with fury. Before Halálház, I would never have raised my voice to her. My defenses rose, and they no longer were patient or nice; they had learned to be cruel. To be the monster Halálház treated you like. “Now.”
She swallowed nervously, her skin paling. “Okay. Just please. Don’t be mad at me . . .”
“Hanna . . .”
“This party. It’s . . . it’s an engagement party.”
“Whose?”
I knew the moment she spoke, but my head spun with doubt and hope I was wrong.
She bit her lip. “Caden’s.”
“To who?”
“The Ukrainian princess. She lost her husband two months ago. She’s still young, not even thirty. She’s beautiful and can bear him children.”
Vomit coated my tongue.
“You mean the Ukrainian princess I found Istvan fucking in his office when she was only twenty-two?”
“What?” Hanna exclaimed. “Oh, gross.”
The knife of deceit twisted into my chest, ripping the air from my lungs.
“Pretend it’s that night, change every wrong choice I made which turned my life into a nightmare. I’m trapped now. My future is no longer mine . . .”
Caden’s words last night came back to me. He’d given me tiny hints he was leaving me, but he didn’t have the guts to actually tell me.
Whirling around, my feet started moving, my chest heaving.
“Brexley!” Hanna called after me, but like Rodriguez, the bull-shifter from Halálház, all I saw was red, and I was barreling toward it at full speed.
Istvan, Rebeka, and Caden stood with the Ukrainian leader and his wife. Their stunning widowed daughter stood draped on Caden’s arm, staring up at him with stars in her eyes and a perfect smile. Like a good obedient dog.
Caden’s eyes flicked up, seeing me, his face turning ghostly white. My gaze tore into him with anger and accusations. His eyes twisted with guilt and apology.
Fuck you, I mouthed, whipped around, and stormed for the closest exit, making it to the hallway.
“Brexley!” Caden’s voice followed me. “Brexley, please stop. Let me explain.” He ran after me.
“Explain?” I whirled around, seething. “You want to explain to me how you almost fucked me on top of the roof last night?”
“Shhh.” He jerked his head around in panic.
“You are engaged!” I shoved into his chest. “All the bullshit you told me last night . . . How could you do it to me? Haven’t I been through enough?”
“Brexley, calm down.” He peered around, seeing if anyone heard. I was way past caring.
“I will not calm down. You are a gutless asshole!” I pushed him away again, and anger flared in his eyes.
“Jesus, Brex, you think I want this?” he hissed back, agony and anger cracking his features. “I don’t want to be engaged to her. I want to be with you. But I don’t have a choice.”
“You don’t have a choice?” A derisive laughed huffed up my throat. “Wow, that’s rich coming from you. Wasn’t it you who yelled at me that I didn’t have to marry Sergiu? Now look at you, lying down like a good boy.”
“It’s because of you I even have to marry her,” he yelled, getting in my face.
“This is my fault?”
“No.” He pinched his nose. “Not what I meant. But because your marriage didn’t happen with Sergiu, the deal with Romania fell through. They have him set to marry some leader’s daughter in China, which is a huge blow to Father since they have some object or substance my father wants.”
“Substance?”
“Some special nectar.” He waved his hand. “I don’t know. That’s not important to me right now. You are. I don’t care about her.”
Nectar. The word triggered something in my memory, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
“Strange how perfectly timed the princess of Ukraine suddenly became single.” I wagged my head.
“Az istenit!” Caden ran his hands through his hair, grunting under his breath.
“I told you—when I lost you, I didn’t give a shit about anything.
My life felt gray and cold no matter what I did.
Father told me I would be marrying her .
. .” Caden’s rage bristled under his skin.
“Married to her or some other woman, it didn’t make a difference to me.
” He grabbed my arms, backing me into a wall.
“You don’t get it. Nothing mattered then.
Because I lost you.” His brown eyes lifted to mine, full of sorrow and regret. “I love you. Only you.”
A tear trailed down my cheek, grief digging pins between my ribs. Everything seemed against us, our paths once again forced apart.
He wiped my tear away with his thumb, his face twisting with anguish. “I don’t want to lose you again.” He pinched my chin, pulling it up. “Please. I can’t . . .”
“You’re getting married. She will have your kids. I don’t—”
“Don’t you dare say you don’t belong in my life, because you do. More than she ever will. I may have a family with her, but you will always be mine. The one I choose to be with. The one I truly love.”
My mouth dropped. “You mean you want me to be your mistress?”
“And I will be your lover.” His lips grazed mine, kissing me softly. “We can still live a full life together, no matter who we are married to.”
His mouth moved over mine while my brain reeled at the proposition. Not even four months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. If it meant being with him, I would have taken anything I could get.
“No.” The word belted off my tongue.
“What?” He leaned back.
“No.” I pushed him back easily, getting distance. “Fuck, no. I’m not going to be your little bit on the side, Caden. Waiting and living for the moments we can secretly meet up, while you go home, kissing your wife and kids.” I shook my head. “That is not a life I want.”
“Brex.” He reached for me.
“No, Caden.” I pulled away. “I love you, but I love myself too. I deserve better than that. I’ve been through too much shit not to be someone’s first choice.”
“You are my first choice.”
“The woman in there is your first choice.”
“I don’t get to fucking choose!”
“Yes, you do!” I shouted back. “I want a love where nothing can keep us apart.”
“Brexley . . .” Pain lined his face.
“Nothing.”
“Caden,” Istvan’s voice barked from behind me. “Your fiancée is wondering where you went. You do not want to be rude to your future in-laws.”
Caden’s gaze met mine. Torment, pain, and love flooded his expression as we stared at each other.
“Now, son.”
Caden’s throat bobbed, and for one second, I thought he would tell his father to fuck off. Choose me. Instead, he sighed deeply, his head dropping as he strolled past me.
My lungs wheezed through the pain stabbing my chest, my eyes watering as I looked to the side. The sound of the door shutting was the final nail in the coffin.
“Brexley.” I squeezed my lids together at the sound of Istvan’s voice, not wanting to hear anything he said. Wiping away my tears, I took a deep breath and turned around.
He pursed his lips, stepping toward me, his medals and awards clanking.
“I am no fool, nor am I blind. I’ve seen what you felt for Caden for a long time, what he may feel for you . . . but you understand, marriage is not about love. It can’t be for either of you.”
I folded my hands in front of me, staying silent.