24. Tori
TORI
“—leaving for New York in an hour,” Stefan said, jarring me from my sleep.
“What?” I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. As I blinked in the early morning light, I saw that he was moving around the room. Making trips to the closet. Packing a suitcase. So he could leave me. “Why?”
“I have work there.”
Of course he did. “On a Saturday?”
“You know I don’t get weekends off,” he said.
It felt like he was running away. From our fight. From me. I didn’t like it—it made me feel defeated in my efforts to take our relationship further. And after all the upheaval last night, we hadn’t had a chance to mend things, or even talk about them at all.
“Well, how long is the trip?” I asked, knowing I sounded petulant. But that’s how I felt.
“A few days,” Stefan said, not even glancing my way.
As he packed, I got up to start my day. I took my time in the bathroom, mulling over my lingering anger that he’d barged in on me at the club and embarrassed me in front of my friends.
I would definitely need to text them later to explain.
I’d gotten a few texts from them around 2 am, apologizing for taking me out when I was underage.
Hopefully they still wanted to hang out with me after everything that had happened.
I stood in the closet, trying to decide what to wear while Stefan came in and out, taking a suit from his side and gathering other things from his drawers. I did my best to ignore him, standing there in my robe while studying my wardrobe with laser focus.
Did he really think I was going to just sit at home and stay put while he traipsed off to New York for the weekend?
There was plenty of mischief I could get up to while he was gone, fake ID or not.
He might have been worried about where I was last night, but he wouldn’t be able to check on me when he was gone.
Maybe I’d even get another phone, just for my nights out.
As far as he’d know, I would still be in the condo every time he checked my location.
But despite my excitement at all the fun I was dreaming of having, I was mostly overwhelmed with disappointment.
Because despite how Stefan had acted, I was sure things between us had changed in a big way.
And that we were finally on the path to something stronger, something deeper and more real than just an arranged marriage.
I knew that under all the swagger and the power trips, he was a good, decent person.
He had shown me evidence that he was. The way he’d comforted me after my father’s heart attack.
The way he’d shown up at the mixer at my school.
Even last night—I knew he’d dragged me out of that club because he was genuinely worried when I’d disappeared, not simply to assert his control.
He obviously cared. That this wasn’t just a marriage of convenience for him.
“Where’s your bag?”
Stefan’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned around, finding him standing there with an impatient look on his face. God. Why was he so damn attractive?
“Your. Bag,” he said slowly, as if I was a child.
“Why do I need a bag?” I asked.
“I told you. We’re leaving for New York,” he said. “Plane’s waiting for us.”
My heart leapt. “I’m going with you?”
He did want me with him! And I was going to New York with him because he didn’t want to be apart from me for the weekend. My sour mood immediately dissipated.
“You’re only coming because I couldn’t find a babysitter,” he said. “And last night proved that you can’t be trusted to behave while I’m not here.”
My heart sank a little. On the other hand, even if he wasn’t taking me because he was going to miss me, he was still taking me. That was the most important thing. I would get to go to New York, and I’d get to be with him.
“I’ve always wanted to see New York,” I said. “My father took me a few times, when he had work stuff, but we barely left the hotel. It seemed so busy and exciting, though. Maybe I’ll have time to go to a museum or something.”
He nodded. “It’s possible.”
Quickly, I packed a bag. It would be cold and beautiful this time of year, and I had no idea what we would be doing there, so I made sure to pack something for every possible occasion; a night out at the theater, a stroll in Central Park, a trip to the Met, ice skating at Rockefeller Center.
My suitcase was bulging by the time I got everything in it.
Stefan gave it a look when I lugged it out of the closet but said nothing. Instead, he just gestured to the doorman who had come up to help with the luggage, and in the blink of an eye it was whisked out of the condo, presumably down to the car waiting to take us to the airport.
“Are you ready?” Stefan asked.
I shouldered my carry on, almost as heavy and overpacked as my suitcase, and gave him an eager nod. I was going to New York. I couldn’t wait.
When we stepped into the cabin of the private jet, it became blatantly obvious that this was indeed a business trip. Konstantin, Luka, and Emzee were all waiting for us.
“Tori, you came!” Emzee squealed, jumping up to greet me with a hug.
She immediately pulled me to the back of the plane where she could update me on everything that had happened since I last saw her.
Even if this was a work weekend, at least I’d get to spend some time with her.
I liked Emzee a lot. She was funny and friendly and could go on and on for hours talking passionately about her photography.
We chatted while the crew readied the plane, but then she was called up to the front by Luka, who gave me a long, leering smile.
I turned away without smiling back, still disturbed by the way he’d cornered me in the condo and basically asked me to sit on his dick.
I knew he was young and used to getting his way with women, but even if he’d been drunk, it was completely unacceptable.
I was his brother’s wife. But in a way, I was grateful—because his actions were what had led to me and Stefan finally consummating our marriage.
I could only hope that Luka would give up the drinking.
We took off and I curled up on the couch, watching Chicago out the window as it got smaller and smaller below us.
Luka and Emzee had settled into their own seats on opposite ends of the plane, with Luka scrolling through Instagram on his phone and Emzee flipping through a folder of recent photos she had taken.
Overall, it was shaping up to be a mellow two-hour flight.
Up toward the front, Stefan and Konstantin were talking, their heads close together, hands gesturing emphatically.
They were discussing KZM business, no doubt.
I had smiled at Konstantin when we got on the plane, but tried my best not to make eye contact.
He still made me uneasy in his presence, and the less time I spent with him, the better.
I watched their conversation from the back of the plane. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by the hand gestures and the look on Stefan’s face, it didn’t seem like a very friendly conversation. It looked like they were arguing.
Finally, Konstantin pointed his finger directly into Stefan’s chest.
My pulse kicked. I had no idea what Stefan would do. I could see a muscle in his jaw tense, and his own hand curl into a fist, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just stared at his father and gave a nod. Then he got up and came to the back of the plane.
I half expected him to take a seat behind Emzee or Luka, but instead he sat down next to me on the couch. It was obvious he was angry about whatever he’d just discussed with his father.
“Is everything okay?” I asked gently.
Stefan didn’t look at me, just straight ahead at the back of his father’s head.
“It’s fine,” he said flatly. “Just business stuff.”
It had to be more than just that, but I didn’t press him. I had a feeling he wanted to stew with his thoughts for a bit, so I figured the best thing I could do was keep quiet and let him.
“Psst! Tori,” Emzee was hissing at me. “Girl talk!”
I looked up and she motioned me toward the empty seat next to her. With a grin, I got up and moved to sit beside her. I was sure Stefan would appreciate the space.
“Let’s lean our chairs all the way back,” she said with a grin.
We did, reclining almost fully flat. Then Emzee shook out a blanket and covered us with it. In the semi-dark, it was almost like we were in a tent. Emzee’s grey eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I feel like we’re having a sleepover,” I told her.
She laughed. “Exactly! So now we have to tell each other secrets.”
“What kind of secrets?” I asked.
“I’ll go easy on you,” Emzee said. “You can tell me anything you’re comfortable with.”
I thought about it for a moment, but it didn’t take long to come up with something.
“I’m not sure if this counts,” I whispered, “but I used my fake ID to get into a strip club last night.”
Emzee gasped, grabbing my hands. “You bad girl! I’m impressed. You seemed better behaved than that, but it turns out you’re a wild woman. Just like me.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t that exciting—your brother found me and took my ID and dragged me out before I saw even one oily buff guy in a thong.”
We both giggled, Emzee kicking her feet a little with glee.
“Now you,” I said. “Tell me something good. Anything I don’t know about you.”
“I’ve got something even better,” she whispered. “About my brother. If you’re interested.”
I lowered my voice. “Tell me.”
“You’ve seen all the paintings hanging up at Stefan’s place, right?”
I nodded. They’d been one of the first things that stood out to me about the condo. “Yeah. They’re great. A little dark, but gorgeous.”
I remembered angular swaths of shadow and light, bent figures, light spilling from windows, hands and trees and churning skies in thick impasto, like Van Gogh.
Emzee smiled. “Those are all our mother’s.”
My heart felt like it was cracking. “Your mom painted all of those?”
She nodded. “Stefan’s always surrounded himself with them. Even when he was away at college. I have a bunch too, but I keep them in storage. It makes sad to see them. I hate that I don’t remember her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I lost my mother when I was young, too.”
“I know,” Emzee said. “That’s why I told you about Stefan. I thought you’d get it.”
“I do.”
Emzee smiled, but it was a little less mischievous this time. “Your turn. Tell me something you haven’t told anybody else.”
I chewed my lip for a moment. “Okay. I’m glad I got married, for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that…
I’m glad to be away from my dad. I mean he’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve always been like a pet to him.
And he had so many rules for me growing up, it’s just…
really nice to be out on my own, doing my own thing, without him running my life. ”
For a second Emzee was quiet, and I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing.
Then, in the ghost of a whisper, she said, “I know exactly what you mean. Moving out on my own when I turned eighteen was the best thing I ever did. So liberating.”
We shared a smile.
For the rest of the flight, I helped Emzee go over the proofs of her photos, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Stefan and those paintings.
Whether he could admit it or not, losing his mother at a young age had scarred him, had made him feel completely powerless.
And he’d reacted in the only way that made sense—by trying to control everything else around him.
Even me. So maybe the reason he’d acted so cruel all those times wasn’t because he wanted to hurt me.
But because somewhere, deep down, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me, too.