Chapter 38 #2
“Your ego really knows no bounds, doesn’t it?
” I shot back, but there wasn’t any real anger in it.
Because despite everything—despite the danger and the mistakes and the chaos—I’d never hated Sebastian.
It wasn’t personal. Our problems had always been tangled up in other people’s messes: Max’s control; Romanos versus Callahans.
He watched me carefully. “You look different.”
“Yeah, well, sobriety will do that to a person. You should give it a try.”
He grinned. “I prefer my vices.”
“I bet you do,” I muttered, eyeing his cigarette pointedly, though I didn’t bother to ask for one.
A small victory, maybe. Or just stubborn pride.
Asking him for a smoke felt too familiar, too much like stepping back into the role of old Valentina.
Reckless, careless, stupid Valentina who hadn’t learned a single lesson from the past few months.
“I gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day Valentina De La Vega shunned alcohol. Sobriety suits you.”
“Yeah, well, I’d hate to disappoint my husband,” I said dryly, the word “husband” tasting strangely foreign, but also somehow right.
His brows rose. “Ah, right. I heard about that. Marco Grey. You know, if I’d realized all it took to get you to the altar was a contract, I’d have offered you one myself ages ago.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes dramatically. Sebastian’s arrogance always bordered on charming, until it didn’t. Until I had a different standard to compare it to.
“Please. You and marriage? We’d have killed each other in a week. Great sex, sure, but let’s face it—you’re even more of a disaster than I am. You’d drive a good girl crazy, let alone me.”
He laughed again, softer this time, taking another drag. “Maybe you’re right. Still, you’re wasting your talents playing housewife with Grey.”
I hummed. “But I quite like playing housewife with Grey.”
“What does he offer you?” he wondered.
Good question. Great question, actually, and one I’d avoided asking. I knew what Marco didn’t offer—no promises, no romantic gestures, nothing sappy enough to put in a greetings card—but what he did offer felt dangerously intangible.
What did Marco Grey offer me?
Stability, for one. And not the boring kind—the kind that made chaos feel manageable, even when my life was still objectively a mess. Protection too. And care. Quiet, restrained care that somehow felt deeper than loud declarations ever could.
But Sebastian definitely didn’t get to hear that part.
“Too late for you to one-up him, Sebastian.”
He shrugged. “I could have it annulled.”
“It’s cute you think paperwork’s the only reason I’d choose him over you.”
“And it’s cute you think he’d still be here without it.” He laughed softly, bitterness barely hidden. “You always did confuse security for sincerity.”
I rolled my eyes. “And you always did confuse arrogance with honesty. At least Marco knows how to pick one.”
“Calling your own husband arrogant?”
“Do not pick a fight with me,” I argued, snatching the cigarette from his fingers.
“I’m just wondering, because it certainly isn’t honesty.”
I stared back at him blankly. What the hell was he implying? Marco was plenty of things, but dishonest?
That wasn’t Marco.
Marco was the opposite. Marco was the guy who lectured me about honesty with his eyebrows alone. No—Marco wasn’t dishonest. He was painfully honest.
Obsessively so.
I’d built my barely-there trust around that relentless transparency. Hell, I’d practically made it my emotional support animal—something I could pet and pretend was real until I inevitably got bitten. And god, right now, standing here, Sebastian’s look felt like teeth grazing skin.
My heart gave a sudden squeeze, uncomfortable and annoying and very badly timed. Because it felt like Sebastian had something huge, something ugly, and I really wasn’t ready for ugly. Not again. Not today. Not sober.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He studied me for a moment. God, I hated him in that moment. It felt like he was about to rip the rug out from under my feet, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever was hiding underneath it.
“Let’s take a drive,” he suggested.
“Let’s not and say we did. Saves us both the regret.”
“This isn’t for me, Valentina. Trust me. My day would be a hell of a lot easier if I left you out of it.”
My pulse quickened, irritation and curiosity doing that stupid tug-of-war thing in my chest again. Sebastian was annoyingly good at knowing exactly what to say to keep me hanging on long past common sense.
I didn’t want to get into that car. Didn’t want whatever truth he was holding back. Marco was supposed to be the one uncomplicated thing I’d ever picked. Well, okay, maybe not uncomplicated, but uncomplicated enough. Safe-ish. Reliable-ish. Someone whose secrets didn’t outweigh their sincerity.
But the fact was, if I walked away now, whatever he was about to tell me would follow.
I sighed, mentally preparing myself for regret. Because apparently, no matter how many times I learned this lesson, I still couldn’t help but touch the flame, even knowing I’d get burned.
So, against every screaming instinct, every ounce of better judgment . . .
I got in the car.