Chapter 5
TALIN
When I was a little girl, I was terrified of the Sarkissian mansion.
It’s a huge structure in Roland Park, this obscenely wealthy suburban edge of the city where all the rich people live.
The house is around sixty rooms, or that’s what Sam always says, and he’s usually right about stuff like that.
Multiple wings, furniture and paintings expensive enough to pay for a private army, and several acres of meticulously maintained land.
Years ago the place was half crumbling, parts of the buildings closed off with iron bars, random locked doors, whispered warnings not to stray too far in case I get lost or seriously injured in some accident.
It’s a paradise and it’s terrifying as hell, or at least it was back in the day.
These days, the mansion’s different. Light streams from the windows.
Most doors are open. The rooms are clean and dusted.
The old, condemned wings have been fully renovated and turned over to family suites.
The gloom’s been banished, though Sam still swears there are crawl spaces and hidden passageways.
Today, I don’t care about any of that.
All I can think about is the man leaning against an outdoor bar, swirling a glass of bourbon in his hand, ignoring the crowd around him.
There are a few dozen people milling around the mansion’s beautiful back garden.
The pool’s open, but nobody’s going to go swimming.
Instead, staff in black pass hors d’oeuvres and glasses of champagne while a string quartet plays quiet, calming music.
In theory, this is a party to celebrate the tightening alliance between the McGraths and the Sarkissians, but in practice it’s Papa and Arsen’s way of giving me another chance to speak with my future husband.
But nothing is ever simple in my family.
They could’ve sat us down at a dinner table.
Instead, they turned it into a political event.
A state senator walks past talking quietly to a man I think is the chief of police.
Funny that the most powerful cop in the city is at a criminal’s garden gathering.
Lena Sarkissian, Arsen’s beautiful Russian wife, plays the immaculate hostess while also keeping an eye on a rambunctious little boy named Roman.
I don’t know how she manages to juggle it all.
“You look like you’re having a fantastic time.” Riley sidles up to my elbow, maneuvering me away from a very nice hedge that was acting as my buffer against the crowd.
“There’s a lot of people, that’s all.”
“Tell me about it. That’s why Alexan’s not here.”
“Your husband doesn’t get out much, does he?”
She laughs like I have no idea. “You learn to love them for who they are, even if they’re flawed.” She glances toward her brother and tightens her grip on my arm. “He’s a decent person, you know.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“And he means well.”
“I never said—“
“You don’t want to marry him.” Her words are simple and matter-of-fact, like she’s listing groceries for an upcoming shopping trip.
“I mean, ah, I can’t say, we just—“
“It’s fine, Talin, honestly. Why would you? None of this is exactly fair.”
I shake my head, cheeks red with shame. I know Riley better than her brother, and she’s always been nice to me, but we’ve never been close.
“It’s nothing personal. I mean, it’s not about him.”
She snorts, giving me a look. “Bullshit. That’s what I said about Alexan back in the day, but we all know that isn’t true.”
“But I don’t even know him.”
“And what are the chances you will fall madly in love?”
“Like you and Alexan did.”
She taps a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Good point. I guess arrangements really can work out.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Not really. I’m mostly trying to help you work up the courage to talk to him, because I promise, he won’t come talk to you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not his nature.”
“He can always change.”
“Sorry, Tallie, but that’s not likely.” She turns me toward where Brenden was standing, but he’s no longer there. “Rats, looks like he slipped away. Bastard probably knew what I was doing.”
“It’s fine, really. I’ll just… I don’t know… mingle?”
“With who? This party’s exhausting. Seriously, Tallie, this is hard, but take your chances when you get them, okay?”
She leaves me to stew. I grab a glass of champagne and think about what she said.
Why wouldn’t Brenden come to me? After what he did in the office, I feel like he owes me that much at least. But the more I obsess about it, and the more I touch the twin lighters I have shoved into the small pocket in my dress, the more pissed off I become.
This is his mess too. I’m not in this alone. He’s marrying me and he should take some ownership of that. Did he know that day in the office? Did he know who I was the whole time and didn’t bother saying anything?
Maybe that’s why he was so forward.
He felt like he owned me already.
I need space. The party feels suffocating. I slip away into the house where the air conditioning cools the sweat on my skin and makes me shiver. I stalk down a side hall and into a quiet wing where guests don’t usually go.
I’m vaguely familiar with the mansion. I didn’t grow up here, but my father has been bringing us for visits throughout the years.
I’ve explored all the rooms and side hallways and the strange hidden crevices with Sam and we’ve gotten in trouble more than once for getting into places that we shouldn’t.
My cousins are all older than I am and I didn’t really know them growing up, but I’ve always loved this house.
It’s so strange and big, a relic of another era.
I lean against the wall near a window and gather myself together.
I can’t let Brenden fluster me so much, not when I don’t even know the guy.
We had one interaction and nothing more.
He went down on me, got me off better than I’ve ever managed it in my life, and convinced me to steal from an old couple of arms dealers. All in all, a fun twenty minutes.
I’m feeling better when I hear a noise in a room nearby.
There shouldn’t be anyone back here. These are mostly empty guest suites.
I’m pretty sure nobody’s ever stayed in any of them.
I drift over to where I heard the bump and hesitate, listening at the door, and there it is again.
A soft knocking, like someone’s banging against a wall with a muffled hammer.
“Hello?” I open the door and peer inside.
“Is there anyone in here?” Thoughts of ghosts, of long-dead owners of this place, or maybe long-murdered victims of the Sarkissian family, make me feel jumpy.
I know what the Sarkissians do, and there are some very nasty rumors about the brothers, especially the current Patron.
From what I’ve heard, Arsen had a psychotic break and went crazy on some members of his family back in the day.
I’m not sure how much I believe that though.
“Is that you, Talin?”
I yelp and jump sideways, smashing my head into the door frame. I groan, lights flashing in my eyes, and grab the back of my skull. Brenden steps from the closet, grimacing and reaching a hand out like he can do something to help.
“I’m fine,” I hiss through my teeth and swat him away. “What the hell? That freaking hurt.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What the hell are you even doing back here?!”
He guides me by the elbow to the bed and makes me sit on the edge. “Let me take a look.” His touch is surprisingly gentle and he sounds like he’s concerned. “Hm, no blood, that’s good. But there’s going to be an ugly little knot if we don’t get you some ice.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Come on.” He tugs me back up. “Any dizziness? Feel sick at all?”
“I’m not concussed, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He puts an arm around me. His body’s big and warm as he pulls me closer and makes me lean on him. “The kitchen’s this way.”
“How do you know that?”
He doesn’t answer. We walk into the hall, despite my protests. I try to convince him that I’m fine, but he does have a point. There’s a splitting headache grinding down the back of my spine, and when I try to wriggle my way free, it only gets worse.
To my surprise, Brenden navigates the maze-like mansion with ease. He breezes me into the kitchens, ignoring the staff and the cooks hard at work preparing the food for the party guests, and sits me down on a stool in the corner. He fetches ice wrapped in a towel and presses it to the lump.
“There you go, that’s better,” he says, holding it tight. “What’s five times five?”
“Twenty-five, the number of punches to the kidneys you’re about to get if you don’t stop fretting over me like that.”
“You took a hard knock there, Tallie.”
I tighten my jaw. “You’re calling me Tallie now?”
“We’re getting married. I might as well.”
“Actually, you might as well stick to my actual, real name.”
“Sure thing, Tallie.” He checks under the ice. “Let me know if it’s too cold.”
“I told you, I’m fine.” I brush his hand back and hold the ice in place myself.
Brenden pulls up a stool and sits across from me.
He seems at ease despite the number of people bustling around.
Several cooks pause to stare and one staff girl asks if I’m doing okay.
Brenden explains what happened in a way that makes it sound normal and fine, like I hadn’t caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been.
“Let me ask you something. Do you get hurt often?”
“Not before I met you.”
“Come on, that wasn’t my fault.”
“You surprised me.”
“You barged in on me, remember?”
“What were you doing in there, anyway?”
He considers for a moment before getting up to check my ice. “Let me get you more.”
“Brenden.”
He ignores me and comes back a second later with a fresh batch. I grunt as he presses it to my head, holding me steady.
“Riley used to drag me to events like this all the time. She hated it as much as I do, but she was the smarter sibling. She knew how to play the game.”
“You don’t?”
“Not really. I got in too much trouble to be useful at a fancy garden party. Riley wanted to be a troublemaker, but deep down, I think she always shone best at places like this.”
“You two are pretty close, huh?”
“I guess so. You seem like you and your siblings are tight.”
I rub my hands together bitterly. “Me and Annie used to be called The Twins by everyone when we were little. We’re ten months apart and were always together.”
“But not anymore?”
“We grew up.” I don’t like the look he gives me. It’s both pitying and curious. “I’m close with Davit and Sam too. But the others are all older or don’t live at home anymore, so it’s hard.”
“Eight siblings. I can’t even imagine.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I mean, my oldest brother was out of the house by the time I was even aware of him as a person.”
“How did your parents do it though?”
“It’s easier when you have enough money for a nanny or two.”
He laughs and I like the way it sounds. Low and genuine, coming straight from his stomach. His face transforms and he looks five years younger, like some of the stress and the pain he’s been through melts off.
“Yeah, I can see how that might work.” He checks under the ice. “Swelling’s going down.”
“Thanks. Let me.” I rub at the spot. There’s definitely a lump. I take the ice and hold it as he returns to his stool. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very good at avoiding a conversation?”
“All the time.”
“You were doing something in that room. I heard you knocking.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I definitely did. Those rooms are supposed to be off limits. And how did you know how to find the kitchens?”
He leans closer. His smile fades and that heaviness comes back.
I hadn’t noticed it until now. There’s a shadow in his eyes like he’s looking into the past all the time, and only ever half way here.
His gaze is distant and hard, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but he’s so damn attractive that it makes my heart flutter, remembering what he did to me with that mouth of his.
“How did you like my gift the other day, Tallie?”
I pull away, lowering the ice into my lap. “What gift?”
“The second lighter.”
My jaw drops.
Holy shit.
How does he know about that?
The second lighter’s been bothering me since I woke up and found it in my room. I know I didn’t put it there, but I figured it was Sam or Davit playing a trick on me. That’s the sort of mental warfare Sam would go for. And Davit likes pranks sometimes.
“You… you did… how?!”
“Do you like it, Tallie?” He comes closer, crushing the space between us.
“I wanted you to have it. So you knew… I was thinking about you…” His lips lower to mine.
My heart’s going wild. I lift my chin toward him, and crap, do I really want him to kiss me right now?
Do I want this, even knowing he’s dangerous?
I go to tell him off, or maybe I’m about to crush my mouth to his, but something cold spreads in my core. At first I think it’s dread, pure and simple terror, until I realize—
The ice is spilling.
“Shit!” I leap up and start brushing at myself. There’s a big wet mark on my dress. “Ah, crap, what the hell! Of course now it looks like I—“
By the time I look up, the stool across from me is empty.
Brenden’s gone. I’m stunned, not sure what to think, as I look around the kitchen.
No sign of him at all, like he’s a ghost.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I whisper to myself, fetching a dry towel to clean myself the best I can. The staff girl from earlier is sympathetic and directs me toward a fan. I stand in front of it until the spot dries enough that I don’t look like I’m incontinent.
All the while I roll what he said around in my head.
Brenden gave me the lighter… which means he broke into my house…
And was in my room while I was sleeping.
He’s insane. That’s the most invasive, psychotic thing I’ve ever heard. Who does something like that?!
I’m buzzing with energy, head still pounding, when I go back to join the party. Riley finds me and seems concerned. “You disappeared for a while. Are you okay? I’ve been trying to find Brenden too.”
“Don’t worry, we already had a chat.”
“Really?” She seems delighted. “I figured he ditched us.”
“I think he did, but I ran into him first.”
“That’s great. Are you two getting along?”
No. Not at all. Not remotely.
“Good enough,” I say with a sigh.