chapter 30
Avira
If I had the authority, I would’ve given my sister the world’s biggest award, preferably the Eiffel Tower itself.
She’s such an incredible pianist. Even without knowing a single note of music, I still feel every emotion she pours out, tugging at my heartstrings like they’re part of her melody.
That’s why insane crowds show up at her concerts every single time.
Right now, she’s playing something soft and soothing. We’re having a private concert in our music room. I’m lying with my head on Pa’s shoulder, he still has that solid, comforting strength even at his age. Broad chest, firm arms… our Pa is a sexy old man.
The tune shifts into something romantic. I lift my head from Pa’s shoulder so he can wrap an arm around Ma and enjoy it properly, and I can have my own little misery party missing a certain asshole of a man.
It’s been a month since I last saw him, last talked to him. I miss him every single day, but I’m still mad as hell. If he thinks this is how we should live—separated, pretending—then so be it. I’m done fighting for something that keeps breaking me. I won’t move an inch this time.
And trust me, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because all I want is to run back into his arms. I know exactly how he’d react, how his hold would tighten around me like he’s scared I’ll vanish.
But I also know his patterns. His determination weakens for a heartbeat, then rebuilds itself stronger than before.
I want to crush that determination, shatter it with my own hands.
Her beautiful long fingers strike the final keys, letting the notes linger in the air like the last breath of a dream. She turns gracefully on her stool and bows toward us.
We clap for her.
“You must play the last one in your next concert,” Ma says.
She grins. “Of course, Ma. I’ll play that one, and twenty others you’ve picked.”
We all laugh.
Pa turns to me. “Have you talked with Zo about the event?”
The new book I published ten days ago has been sitting at the number one best-selling position ever since. Because of that, the online publication platform I work with has organized a signing event in Los Angeles, scheduled three days from now.
Every time I attend a signing event, Zo personally takes care of my security. And, honestly, it’s a bit of a pain in the ass, because his version of “security” means no photos of me, no selfies with fans, and absolutely no camera devices allowed anywhere near me.
“I haven’t.”
“Talk with him. He’ll need time to arrange security.”
I nod.
Zloban
My phone rings on the table, the distinct tone echoing through the office, a sound I haven’t heard in what feels like forever.
I glance at the screen, and before even answering, I switch the camera feed from her room onto my desktop and project it on the bigger light screen in front of me.
She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear.
“Hello, Dove,” I say, leaning back in my chair.
She presses her lips together. “I have a signing event after three days. Arrange the security.”
Before I can say anything, she pulls the phone away from her ear, and the call disconnects. I stay still for a moment, then turn the audio on from the camera.
She’s still sitting on the bed, staring at her phone, biting her lower lip. “Should I call him again?” she murmurs to herself.
A second later, she shakes her head and tosses the phone aside. “Absolutely not. He’ll think I want his attention.”
She exhales, then after a pause, snatches the phone again. “I’ll just say I want to make sure about the security,” she mutters.
Then she looks up at the ceiling and groans, clutching her chest. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. I forget about staying mad the second I hear his voice.”
The phone lands beside her again with a thud. She pats her chest. “I won’t call him. He’s a selfish bastard, and I’m mad at him.”
A smirk curves on my lips as I pick up my phone and hit call.
The second it rings, she answers. “Yes?”
“Send me the details of the event,” I say, my voice low and even.
Her lips press together again, the faintest twitch threatening to turn into a smile.
“What details?”
“Location, timing, and who’s organizing it.”
“Don’t you have all my devices hacked? Why don’t you check on your own?”
“Right,” I say with a small, amused exhale. “I’ll check.”
“Oh wait,” she cuts in quickly, smirking. “I’ll send it to you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
I tilt my head, playing along. “Why would I hurt myself?”
Her smirk widens. “You’ll see an email from my latest order.” She bites the corner of her mouth.
I rest my head back against the chair, but my gaze stays fixed on the projection of her face. “And?”
“And you’ll find out that I ordered a few dildos.”
My brow arches, I lean forward slightly. “You wouldn’t dare put something inside that pussy.”
Her cheeks instantly flush. On my screen, the color spreads beautifully.
“I will. And since you’ve got cameras in my room, you can enjoy the free porn.”
“You can try if you want, but I wouldn’t suggest it.”
She crosses her arms. “I didn’t actually order anything yet, but now that you’ve provoked me, I’ll make sure I do.”
“And you think I won’t ban your account on every site before you can check out?”
“I’ll make a new account.”
“I’ll ban that too.”
Her lips press into a thin line. Then, slowly, a grin breaks through. “You’ve ruined my mood for the day. Now get lost. Good night.”
She lowers her phone, then pauses, frowning before lifting it back to her ear. “Do you watch me at night?”
“I watch you the whole day, Dove.”
Her gaze sweeps the corners of her room. “Where are the cameras?”
“Everywhere.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Keep watching. Bye-bye.”
The call ends with her little grin still on the screen.
I set my phone down, eyes following her on the screen as she gets up from her bed and walks out of the room.
I turn it off and resume my work.
A knock comes at my door. Two seconds later, Leo enters. He walks in and sits on the chair across from me.
He returned from New York a week ago, after Iselyn went back to Russia.
“I’m marrying her.”
I raise a brow.
“Arrange marriage,” he smirks. “I’ve settled the deal with her father.”
My other brow rises as well.
He shrugs. “Dad helped.”
“Has she agreed?” I ask.
His smirk widens.
“You must have done something, I’m sure it made her hate you even more.”
“Part of her saying yes is because of that hatred.” He always finds a way to get what he wants.
“She will make your life hell.”
Iselyn is not easy to deal with, and he knows it very well.
He grins. “I love hell.”
I smirk back. “Better to love than to suffer.”
He nods, eyes glinting. “Like you.”
I narrow my eyes. “You want me to help Iselyn construct that hell?”
“Sure, if you want me to help, Avi.” He clicks his tongue, mock sympathy in his tone. “I’m feeling bad for you, man.”
“Fuck you.”
“By the way, how’s the public pity feeling?”
I smile.
Avira
When I reach downstairs for dinner, I find Wen, Ma, and Pa in front of the TV, watching the news. Ma and Pa are sitting on the couch, Wen standing behind them. That’s very rare, no one in our family ever watches news channels, they’re completely fake.
I join them and stand beside Wen. The content on the screen makes my eyes widen instantly. There are images of Zoan. My eyes water before I can stop them.
There are photos of him where he had been found, so weak that every bone is visible beneath his skin. My chest tightens, a mix of grief, anger, and helplessness rising within me.
Wen rubs my arm gently. “Don’t be sad. It’s in the past.”
“How did it even get in the news?” I ask.
“Someone leaked the footage yesterday evening,” she explains, leaning closer. “They said it was Zloban Bennett before Alexander saved him. Then the media dug deeper and found out everything. Now all the channels are talking about it. But… how did you not find out sooner?”
I purse my lips. “I’ve stopped stalking him.”
Pa turns off the TV. “It’s not a big deal. Otherwise, Alex and Zo would’ve taken down the news by now.”
“But now everyone knows he’s adopted,” Ma sighs heavily.
Wen and I exchange a glance, our expressions mirroring each other.
Ma rises from the couch. “All right, everyone, let’s eat. We’re already late for dinner.”
We usually have dinner at 7 p.m., but whenever it’s Wen’s performance evening, we tend to run late.
After dinner, we played cards. Around ten, I head straight to my room, then to the bathroom for a long, relaxing shower. Wrapping myself in a towel afterward, I move toward my closet, but recalling my earlier conversation with Zoan, I turn toward the bed instead.
I remove the towel and drape it over a chair.
Being naked in a room where God knows how many cameras are watching me is… daring. But the thought of him watching me through those lenses is intoxicating.
I lay down on my bed and close my eyes, replaying that night when I was tied to the headboard. My hands wander to my breasts, fingers tracing the curve, pinching the one he’d sucked. His half-lidded blue eyes appear behind my closed eyelids, vivid and consuming.
I move my hand downward, shivering as my fingers brush my clit. I press gently, a small moan escaping my mouth.
He force-fed me the erotic visuals that night, the images of his tongue sliding inside me, his lips sucking on my clit.
I slide one finger inside myself. The fullness feels new, strange, unfamiliar.
I start moving it, but it doesn’t feel particularly interesting.
I pull it out and focus on the sensitive bud of nerves instead, it’s infinitely more interesting.
I rub it with two fingers, feeling the pressure building inside me slowly, steadily. The visuals from my memory dance vividly in my mind, and in no time, my orgasm crashes over me, shooting through the back of my head, taking the images with it.
After collecting my breath, I rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom to wash my hands, my body still humming from the intensity.