26. -25- #2
“You’re starting to sound like Malin,” I pointed out. “What happened?”
“Office,” he commanded like I was one of his bodyguards, his rigid expression forcing my overthinking mind to picture awful scenarios. “Now.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
My office was exactly as it had always been, chaos masquerading as a workplace. I plopped into my office chair.
“Sit,” I offered, pointing at the chair opposite me. “You make the place look more respectable.”
He ignored my words again and leaned against my desk, arms crossing over his chest. He looked too big and too sharp for my messy space, like a weapon placed on a pile of children’s toys.
“Malin told me what he found,” he opened without a warm-up. “Not enough, but enough to worry.”
“Your default state,” I exhaled, taking a pen to preoccupy my fingers. “You would worry if I sneezed.”
“You were taken from our property,” he remarked, his eyes narrowing.
It was like staring in the mirror at a deeply unsettling version of me.
“You were drugged with something our labs couldn’t identify.
Your car was pushed off a cliff. Camera footage was erased.
That entire chain of events happening in my city, to my brother, is unacceptable. ”
“If it makes you feel better, it was very unpleasant from my side, too,” I lied through my teeth, keeping my voice steady.
“It’s not a joke, Dorian,” he said icily. Usually, he had endless patience with me, but this time was different. “I’m serious.”
“I noticed,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “You have your ‘head of the family’ face on.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. As identical triplets, we shared a connection people didn’t understand. It was way above the usual feeling that something was happening. It was an instinct that forced us to dig further, to find what the other was hiding.
I had this weird hunch when Zyon kidnapped his future wife for the first time.
Excitement and adrenaline coursed through my veins for no logical reason, and when I confided in Malin, he confirmed it, too.
A couple of hours later, we discovered Zyon’s extracurricular activities and laughed our asses off at his expense.
This time, the roles were reversed. Now I was the one under scrutiny, questioned not by evidence, but by that same quiet certainty.
“Malin said you are constantly lying to him. Is it true?” Zyon interrupted the silence, his black eyes piercing my soul. It was barely a question. Whatever Malin told him, he accepted as fact, no footnotes required.
“Not exactly,” I replied, deciding on my game plan. With Zyon, I at least had a chance to deal with ma vilaine by my rules. He held the power to put Malin on a shorter leash. “I don’t want to tell him anything because he wants to kill my kidnappers.”
“And that is a problem because…” His eyes narrowed. I quickly assessed all angles and came up with only one option. I had to get him on my side.
“Give me your word that you won’t freak out or do something impulsive first,” I negotiated, covering all the bases. My brother had immense power. Stopping him from using it was crucial.
“Is it that bad, huh?” He grimaced, sitting comfortably opposite me and crossing his long legs. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “I won’t do anything behind your back.”
“Thank you.” I nodded, deeply appreciating his collaboration. “Please, remember that if Malin finds out what I’m about to tell you, he will turn the city upside down.”
“Leave Malin to me, Dorian, and speak.”
He cast me an impatient look. I inhaled and briefly closed my eyes, gathering my thoughts into meaningful words.
“I have an obsessed stalker who kidnapped me and forced me into a marriage,” I disclosed, pressing my lips into a thin line when the last syllable left my mouth. Zyon stared at me with a blank expression as if his brain refused to process my revelation.
“I’m married, Zyon,” I said after a long moment of deafening silence, when he just glanced at me. I felt deeply uncomfortable, but I couldn’t do much but wait until he thawed out.
“Well,” he exhaled eventually. “That is unexpected.” He blinked in confusion, opening his mouth like he wanted to say more, but nothing came out. I just quietly watched him, praying that this wasn’t the silence before the storm.
“Believe me, I was as surprised as you,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. “And I’m confused as hell, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
“Okay.” Zyon nodded, his brows knitting above his dark eyes. “But what are you planning to do? Because inviting her for a family dinner seems impossible, considering we have no idea who she is.” He leaned closer, his probing look piercing my skull. “We don’t know who she is, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” I answered quickly, shrugging. “She loves masks and secrecy.”
“So, you are protecting the woman you know nothing about.” Zyon pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back into his chair. “After everything she’s done, you don’t ask for revenge but mercy. What the fuck happened to you?”
I bit my lower lip, forcing my brain to come up with a response. But nothing seemed good enough to explain how I felt about ma vilaine, so I decided on a different approach.
“You kidnapped Valeria, and she married you,” I reminded him carefully. “Is it truly such a dramatic difference?”
“You’re mixing apples with oranges, Dorian,” he countered, subconsciously touching his wedding ring. “Valeria was never a threat. This woman attacked our family. She attacked you.”
“I see your point,” I said, agitation crawling up my spine.
I was trying to explain something I didn’t fully understand myself.
I didn’t know why I cared about ma vilaine.
I didn’t know why the thought of never seeing her again twisted something sharp in my chest. She touched a part of me no one ever reached.
As illogical and stupid as it sounded, I couldn’t just throw her to the wolves.
“Do you?” Zyon pressed, eyes flashing with a warning. “Because we both know you were a breath away from not waking up, and you still act like what she did is okay.”
“What if the kidnapping has nothing to do with our family?” I started, but he instantly cut me off.
“I don’t play what-if games, Dorian,” he rumbled in his typical commanding voice, but it was my time to dismiss his remark.
“What if she just wants me?” He glared at me, his mouth opening in protest, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “She’s my problem; I’ll deal with it.”
“She almost killed you!” He threw his arms in the air in frustration, like I was a disobedient child who refused to listen to him.
“She’s my wife.” The words ripped out of me with a force that startled us both.
“Not legally!” He stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind. “You’re not thinking straight!
“My wife, Zyon!” I abruptly stood up, holding his look without blinking. “You will not touch my wife!”
In almost forty-one years, I could count on one hand how many times I refused to do his bidding. I was raised to do anything he required. He was the boss, but not this time, not when it meant giving her up.
Fuck! Did I really stand up to my brother for her?