Chapter 26
Xander
Cora whips her head to me, and Liam exhales a small, humorless sound.
“Step away, I said,” I growl at my brother.
He finally does, and I rush to wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her to me. To save her from my brother, but also to reassure myself she is still mine.
I came to the dome yesterday to tell her the truth. I was going to tell her again last night. And then before Lottie barged in.
Every time, the conversation gets derailed. Or I let it derail.
Maybe it’s a sign I shouldn’t tell her.
Instead of the truth, I told her I love her.
That is the truth. The only truth that matters.
The businessman in me already knows the probability that the truth will matter to Cora is greater than I care to accept. I would even go so far as to admit the odds are not in my favor.
I’m an investor; I take risks all the time. Yet here I am, avoiding one simple conversation with my wife. Because it’s not simple.
In my defense… Fuck it, there is nothing I can say in my defense. I fucked up, and I need to get my head out of the gutter and deal with the situation.
“Wow, this one is a keeper,” Liam drawls. “I see why you would break our pact.” He turns to Cora. “My apologies, it’s the habit of deception my brother and I enjoy playing. I guess no longer.” He shrugs. “Liam Stone. You must be Cora.” He kisses her knuckles.
“You never told me you had a twin.” Cora looks at me wide-eyed.
“You didn’t tell her you have a brother?” Liam asks.
“He told me about you, but he never mentioned you were twins.”
“Identical.” Liam sighs, like it’s a burden. “Maybe we know each other better than you think,” he deadpans in his dry way, and Cora looks at me, shocked.
“Fuck off.” I lead her away from him.
I love Liam, but he’s a cold-hearted asshole who loves to play with his victims. No way am I submitting Cora to his kind of cynicism.
“We’re taking the same car,” he mumbles, trailing behind us.
“What pact was he talking about?” Cora asks.
“Never mind.” I put my hand on the small of her back, and nod to the footman who is holding the door for us.
“We vowed never to get married,” Liam says.
Cora picks up her skirt before she enters the car. “I thought if you were born to all of this”—she beckons her head toward the house—“you’re obliged to provide an heir.”
“She caught up fairly quickly. Beautiful and smart,” Liam says dryly, like the praise annoys him. It probably does.
“You’re awfully chatty today,” I quip. “What have you been drinking?”
“Enough to tolerate humanity, given the current social obligation.” He drops into the seat without ceremony.
“It’s our mom’s most important occasion of the year.” I take Cora’s hand in mine.
“Relax. You set the precedent.” He pulls out his phone and leaves the conversation.
Cora eyes me curiously.
“My brother hates events like this,” I explain.
“Oh, darling sis-in-law, the occasion might be perfectly palatable. It’s the people I hate. No offense.” Liam doesn’t even look up from the screen.
“None taken.” Cora smirks.
We spend the forty-minute ride in thick silence. Liam avoids small talk at all costs. Cora appears to be mesmerized by the scenery outside, though I guess it’s just to avoid eye contact. Not that my brother looks up.
I… I fucking regret letting Liam into this car. I need to talk to my wife. At this point, it might be the worst timing ever, but I can’t wait any longer.
“What did Nana Sybil want?” Cora turns to me.
“She wanted my advice on a gift for you.”
“Seriously? I don’t need any gifts.”
“Modesty. That’s new in this family,” Liam grumbles.
I ignore him. “She wants to welcome you to the family.”
“She doesn’t need to—”
“Do you want to tell her yourself?” I smirk.
Cora huffs. “Fair point. What was your advice?”
Just to deal with the internal turmoil, I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “That I keep you naked most of the time, but jewelry suits you well even when spread-eagled for me.”
Cora gasps, a shudder reverberating through her body. “Xander,” she warns.
“Get a room,” Liam grumbles. “Tell me, Cora, how do you feel about meeting Tawny tonight?”
I groan.
“Who is Tawny?” Cora looks at Liam.
“Xander’s ex-almost-fiancée.” The fucker finally puts his phone away.
Cora’s eyes flicker to me, and then she leans forward, her attention fully on my brother. “Tell me, Liam,” she mimics him. “How do you feel about being the asshole in the room?” She gives him her brightest fake smile.
“Actually, I don’t mind it at all.” He shrugs, but I don’t miss a glint of approval in his eyes.
Cora swings her hand around my shoulder and plays with the hair on the back of my neck. I love when her fingers mindlessly swirl there. “Well, at least I can be sure I married the right brother.”
The ballroom gleams with candlelight and polished glass. Crystal chandeliers hover above, their sharp glitter catching on every sequin, every diamond, every artfully highlighted cheekbone.
Classical music hums in the background, smooth and stately, but it’s all white noise to me.
I glance at Cora, radiant in a chocolate gown that hugs her as if it were stitched by lust itself. Her hair is pinned up, with a few defiant curls loose by her neck.
When I saw her earlier in the room, my heart stopped and restarted in some disjointed rhythm that doesn’t seem normal, but it feels right.
I wanted this woman the minute I laid my eyes on her. Then later, the thrill of the chase played a role—I enjoyed her sass, and loved that she was resisting.
Somehow, she grew on me. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told her she made me a one-woman man. I wasn’t lying when I told her I loved her.
I only wish we had started differently. Without the false arrangement hanging over our future.
The crowd parts as we make our way into the heart of the room. Lottie and Mom flit between guests like they own the place.
With many eyes on us, I introduce my wife to several people, and greet even more. It’s a whirlwind of small talk and pleasantries, and Cora handles every introduction with quiet poise and quick wit.
An art I mastered a long time ago, but it feels different with her by my side. Less pretentious?
She leans in, her voice barely audible above the music, when we finally have a moment alone. “The golden boy returns. How does it feel?”
“I’m no longer the golden boy.”
“Based on the reception line we just got, I beg to differ.”
I smirk. “I burned that title to the ground years ago. They’re all tripping over to meet you, dear wife.”
She beams. “I always wanted to be the talk of the town,” she says with sarcasm.
I laugh. “Careful what you wish for. Do you want to take a break and find a corner to make out? I know a few nooks around here.”
She runs her fingers down my arm, sliding into my hand like she was always meant to be held by me. “I don’t even want to know why and with whom you discovered those nooks.” She pretend-glares.
“I still can’t wait to take that dress off,” I whisper in her ear, her laughter spreading inside my chest.
When I lift my gaze, my spine straightens.
Sterling Stone.
Silver-haired, impeccably dressed, hands clasped behind his back like he’s already halfway through a keynote speech, he gives me a curt nod.
The last two years apart haven’t dulled the steel in his posture, or the cool precision in his eyes.
I consider pretending I didn’t see him, but he starts toward us.
“Son.” He nods curtly and turns to Cora, smiling. “I’m sorry I missed you last night; you must be Cora. So very nice to meet you.” He clasps her hand in both of his.
“Cora, this is my father, Sterling Stone. Dad, this is my wife.”
“It’s so great to have you here with us.” Father smiles at her. “Marianne worked so hard on this event, and having the whole family here means a lot. I hope we will see more of you.”
He finally lets go of her hands and looks at me. I know that look well. Not triumph. Not manipulation. Just a silent satisfaction. He got what he wanted. His family reunited.
“It’s good to be back, Dad,” I choke out, and it’s the fucking truth.
Dad pats my shoulder. “I have some more mingling to suffer through, but I’ll see you kids at the dinner table.”
“He’s nice.” Cora cocks her head, searching my face, evidently surprised by the civility of the encounter.
That’s because I’m the villain in this story. “I need to—”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats,” the announcement interrupts me.
Yet again. For fuck’s sake. It’s like the universe doesn’t want me to be honest with her.
Perhaps I’m making too big a deal out of nothing. Just like I did two years ago when I fled from here.
We pass under arches of white roses and soft, gold lighting toward our table and settle into our seats.
Nana Sybil is already seated, wearing a pale lavender turban and at least three heirlooms from the Stone vaults.
“I told the designer I wanted a train,” she complains to Lottie who is seated beside her, “and the old bastard gave me a bustle. I look like a peacock in mourning.”
“Hello, Nana.” I kiss her cheek.
“You look great, Sybil.” Cora smiles, and my grandmother pats her hand.
Dad and Mom join us.
“I love your dress, darling.” Mom kisses Cora as she takes her seat on the other side of Dad. “Where is Liam?”
“I’m here,” my brother grumbles, and falls into the last empty chair.
Nana Sybil holds her champagne flute aloft like a weapon. “I told the waiter if he bends over one more time, I’m going to tuck a twenty in his waistband.”
Lottie snorts. Cora stifles a laugh, squeezing my thigh.
“Welcome to the Stone family.” I shrug.
“I guess I know where you got your playful gene.” She snorts.
“Mother,” my father says mildly, “please don’t harass the staff.”
“Oh, please do, Nana.” Liam raises his flute. “This evening needs a bit of spice.”
“William,” Mother says sternly.
“Oh, please…” Nana waves her hand. “He winked at me first. If I were thirty years younger and slightly less unhinged, I’d take him home like a party favor.”
This time Cora spits into her napkin, while I snort.
Soon enough, we settle into small talk, and I watch my family warm to my wife like embers catching.
She fits here. She really fits.
For a moment, I forget what’s coming.
Until Dad raises a glass. “To Marianne—for hosting the gala of the season. And to Xander—for finally joining the family again.”
My mother beams.
Cora stiffens beside me. “Not without encouragement,” she says, sarcasm coating her words.
I squeeze her thigh. Please, for fuck’s sake, let’s not unravel this here and now.
All she is doing is defending me against my father’s blackmail, as she calls it.
Dad frowns at her frosty tone. “All I asked was that he attend tonight—for his mother, and the legacy she’s built with this event.”
Cora blinks. Her eyes narrow faintly. “That’s all you asked?” She snorts.
Mom’s head jerks, and Dad looks puzzled, while Lottie, Liam, and Nana lean back, wine in hands, like this is the most riveting performance they’ve ever seen. At my fucking expense.
Dad clears his throat. “Of course. Marianne deserves to have her family under one roof again.”
Cora turns to my mom. “I’m sorry, Marianne, but you should know your husband forced Xander to marry. He made it a condition for helping him with a business deal.”
The entire table stills.
“And the plot thickens,” Liam gloats.
“What?” Mom’s voice is a whisper, her eyes darting between me and Dad.
“Son?” My father studies me, his expression a mixture of concern and surprise.
Cora’s gaze swings toward me, her eyebrows drawn. “Xander?”
“What’s going on?” Lottie asks.
“Hush,” Nana admonishes. “We reached the main program.”
Liam snorts.
“What is Cora talking about?” Dad’s voice can cut steel.
I open my mouth. The words don’t come. Because the lie—my lie—is sitting at the center of the table now, fully dressed in candlelight and linen.
“I’m sure this is some misunderstanding,” Mom chirps. “This chestnut bisque is fantastic.”
All heads swivel to her at her effort to salvage the situation.
“Excuse me.” Cora pushes the chair, throwing the linen napkin onto her plate.
I move to pursue her, but my father grips my arm. “No scandals,” he warns, whispering.
Jerking away, I slouch in the chair. Cora’s soup soaks through the napkin, drowning it like I’m drowning under the weight of my lie.