chapter 26
Avira
I had no idea how much would change after I announced I was marrying Roxion in a week.
That was just two days ago, and now the guest apartments on the two floors below this penthouse are buzzing with cleaning and preparations because our family will be arriving the day after tomorrow.
Wen already came yesterday morning, and today she and Lyn spent the whole day with my wedding planner debating the color and type of flowers for the venue.
After last night’s marathon movie session, we finally decided to give ourselves some sleep tonight.
Wen has taken the room downstairs, and Lyn refused to stay in Leo’s house, so she went back to her own apartment.
I’m lying flat on my back, staring at the off-white ceiling. It feels real now, like I’m actually getting married. And the feeling is far from good when the person waiting for me at the other end of the aisle isn’t Zoan.
I let out a sigh and close my eyes. The last time I saw him was at that breakfast table. Since then, he’s vanished from sight, from this house, from me. I even checked last night, after Wen and Lyn finally passed out at four in the morning, but his room was cold and empty.
These days, I start feeling Zoan withdrawal symptoms if I don’t see him for more than twenty-four hours.
I could just video call him, but I’ve sworn to myself I’ll throw tantrums this time.
Pretend to stay mad at him, at least while I’m away.
Because I know myself too well, once I see him again, I’ll crawl right back into Zoan’s puppy mode.
Sleep tugs at me, pulling me under with my opening and closing thoughts about that man. But consciousness resurfaces like a rippling tide when I hear the faint sound of my door unlocking. Wait, how could it open? I remember locking it.
A familiar fragrance seeps into the room, subtle yet unmistakable. Footsteps follow, measured, steady, unhurried, coming closer with each soundless step. He must have the key. Of course he does. It’s not even surprising anymore.
He stops at the side of my bed; I can feel his presence looming over me, his gaze a weight against my skin. I force my breathing to stay slow and even, needing to know what he’ll do.
Then he leans closer, and the back of his finger traces the outline of my cheek in a featherlight caress. The touch disappears almost before I can feel it. His lips press briefly, softly, against my forehead, then he moves away. But he doesn’t leave.
The faint rustle of movement dies into silence. He doesn’t climb into the bed. He doesn’t retreat. Where is he? I hate his noiseless movements. Even ghosts, I’m sure, make more sound than this man. I guess that’s why they call him the Phantom.
I open my eyes and glance around. My heart jolts when I see him sitting on the floor, leaning against the edge of my bed, watching me.
In the dim light of the room his face looks as though he hasn’t slept in days.
The exhaustion in his eyes is stark, the dark crescents beneath them striking against his tanned skin.
I shift closer to the edge of the mattress. “You can come up on the bed. It doesn’t look comfortable down there.”
“It’s comfortable,” he mutters, his voice low, rough with fatigue.
Zloban
The floor of her room has always been more comfortable to me than any bed.
“Alright, it may be comfortable for you, but it’s not for the eyes. So come on the bed.”
“I’m fine here. You can go back to sleep.”
She purses her lips, then climbs down from the bed, settling beside me. “I hope you don’t mind sharing the comfort.”
“You’re so stubborn,” I murmur, my gaze locked on her beautiful face, refusing to blink.
She leans closer, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Learned from the best.”
Only five nights are left. The hollowness in my chest gnaws deeper, an ache that even her presence can’t fill.
“Where were you last night? And the night before?” she asks, shifting even closer.
“Working.”
Killing.
That’s the only thing that keeps me sane. But not for long, not after five nights. Even I don’t know what I’ll do then.
She fidgets, shifting in her position, clearly uncomfortable. I rise to my feet. I can never win against her.
She springs up with a grin, flips onto the bed, slides to the far side, and pats the empty space between us. “Come.”
I sit down on the bed, peel off my socks, place them neatly on my shoes, and finally slide under the covers.
She immediately closes the distance, nestling her head against my shoulder, her fingers playing absently with the buttons of my shirt.
I hadn’t had the strength to change after returning home from a day full of blood and dealings.
Two sleepless nights, combined with the suffocating countdown to her wedding, have drained me to the bone.
I’m not ready to let her go yet. I thought about killing Roxion, but that would be a foolish thing to do.
I know he will keep her happy, no matter how much venom the thought leaches into my veins, it’s the brutal truth.
He could give her something I never could, a life where she will never have to suffer because everyone points fingers and whispers that she married her brother.
I open my eyes when I feel the softest touch of lips on my face. She’s half sprawled across me, kissing along my jaw and brushing the corner of my mouth. Her teasing, her messing around, is doing terrible things to my morning hardness.
I catch her by the neck, pulling her face up. Under the soft sunlight streaming into her room, she looks like the very manifestation of light itself. I cradle her jaw in my palm, my thumb tracing along her cheek, glowing like the freshness of morning dew.
“Dove,” I murmur. My Dove. My love. My life.
She leans her face into my hand with a soft hum, her eyes half-lidded, melting into me.
A knock suddenly rattles the door.
She looks at me with a wicked grin. “Imagine Daddy is knocking.”
Pressing her palms flat against my chest, she rests her cheek over them. “What will you do then?”
Another knock echoes through the room, louder this time. Still, she doesn’t move.
“Get up.”
But mischief glints in her eyes as her smile widens. “You want me to open the door and show whoever’s outside that you were sleeping in my bed?”
“Avi,” Dad’s voice comes from the other side.
Her entire body jerks. Wide eyes. Panic. “Shit. What is Daddy doing here?”
I slide out from beneath her and step off the bed, an amused smirk tugging at my lips as I start toward the door.
But she leaps down in a flash, throwing her arms wide, blocking my path with frantic desperation. Whisper-yelling, she hisses, “You can’t open the door!”
She pushes against my chest, and I let her drag me toward the bathroom. She swings the door open and shoves me inside. “Stay here.”
The door slams shut, only to crack open again a second later, my shoes flying inside. I pick them up and put them on, shaking my head with a half-smirk.
Avira
I open the door with a wide grin. Daddy is standing there in a blue suit, looking impossibly handsome even this early in the morning. Without a second thought, I throw myself into his arms.
“Good morning, Daddy.”
He hugs me back. “Good morning, pumpkin.”
I pull back, only to find his sharp gaze fixed on me, a frown tugging at his features. “I need to talk with you.”
I nod, step out of my room, and close the door firmly behind me. “Let’s go downstairs. Where’s Mama?”
“She’s in the apartment below, unpacking,” he replies as we move down the staircase together.
A relieved sigh escapes me, thank God he didn’t get the idea of talking in my room.
We settle onto the couch in the living room. He takes my hand in his large one and pats the back of it gently, but his expression stays heavy.
“Are you sure you want to get married in a week?”
We’ve had this conversation before, on the very day I decided to marry. Even now, he’s surprisingly unsettled by the idea.
“Of course I’m sure, Daddy.”
But his frown doesn’t ease.
The apartment door opens then, and Mama walks in. I spring from the couch and run straight into her arms. She hugs me back with a light giggle.
When I pull away, she cups my face in her palms. “You look happy. Your daddy was getting stressed over nothing.”
I stroll back to the couch and sink down beside him again. “Why are you even stressed?”
“I didn’t think that the day I proposed the idea of marriage you would agree so quickly. It just doesn’t sit right with me, considering how unhappy you were that day.”
I lean back on the couch, glancing around as if the perfect answer might come from some hidden corner.
“It just clicked. You know, Roxion and I fell for each other very quickly. Love at first sight, sort of thing.” I chuckle softly, trying to lighten the tension.
“How many times have you met him?”
I hold up three fingers.
“But you’ve been staying here for the past week.”
I realize my father in interrogation mode is not good. I look around again, buying myself time. “He’s busy, Daddy. He’s not free all the time.”
“No one is ever too busy to not meet someone they love at least once a day,” he says firmly.
I take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of drama I’ve been nurturing, and let it spill out.
“We love each other, Daddy. For us, it’s not important to stay physically close right now.
We want to do this for four more days, to feel the essence of an arranged marriage trope.
It would be a waste to spend too much time together now.
We know we’ll live happily with each other, and that’s what matters the most. A happy life is the most important thing, everything else… can come and go.”
I don’t know what nonsense I just spat out, but maybe—just maybe—the sheer length of it might convince him.
Mama chuckles lightly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Alexander. She likes him, and the guy seems good. Let them enjoy their arranged marriage trope.”
I grin and nod, feeling a small victory, but Daddy’s face remains serious.