CHAPTERTWELVE
Stella
The events of the night clearly didn’t have any kind of real impact on Seb, because after making out for hours and getting tangled up in his sheets, he fell fast asleep. I guess that’s what happens when nights like tonight are something akin to normal life.
I, on the other hand, am totally unable to switch off, so I lie there for hours, staring at the ceiling.
Hearing movement outside of our door, I slide from the bed as carefully as I can so I don’t wake Seb, drag on one of his abandoned hoodies, and slip out of the room.
The apartment is in darkness aside from a glow coming from the kitchen, and when I round the corner I find Theo sitting at the counter, staring at his cell with a bottle of vodka in hand.
“Hey,” I whisper, not wanting to startle him.
It takes him a few seconds to look up, but when he does, his expression is completely blank, giving nothing away about how he’s feeling after everything that went down tonight.
“A-are you okay?” I ask, edging closer despite the fact that he’s giving off serious ‘don’t come anywhere near me’ vibes.
“Perfect. You?”
“Umm…” I hesitate, flicking the kettle on so I can make myself a hot chocolate in the hope that the warmth will help me sleep. “Y-yes. Tonight was—”
“You know who she is, don’t you?” His question makes me turn back to him.
“Does it matter?” I ask.
“Of course it fucking matters,” he spits.
“Why? Her dad is no longer involved, and it’s not like she is.”
“Isn’t she?” he asks, shocking the shit out of me.
“No,” I confirm with confidence. “Is that what your problem is? Why you won’t give in to what you clearly want?”
His eyes widen in shock and I almost expect him to blow out of the room in frustration, refusing to answer my question. But he stays put.
“What makes you think she’s what I want?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh come off it. You really don’t think we see it?”
“You don’t know me, Princess. Not really.” I think of Seb’s words from before he passed out, and I know that Theo is right. I might have spent quite a bit of time with him, with all the guys, since Seb and I sorted our shit out, but I don’t know him. Not really. Although that doesn’t mean I can’t see the longing in his eyes every time he looks at Emmie.
He wants her. End of.
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that,” I say, walking over and resting my forearms on the counter, staring him dead in the eyes. “Didn’t have you down as a psychopath, Cirillo.”
A dark chuckle rumbles in the back of his throat as an evil smirk curls at his lips.
“Didn’t you get the memo, Princess? You’re fucking surrounded by them. We’ve been trained from the day we were born. There isn’t much the six of us—all the men around us—aren’t capable of.”
“And what about the women?” I ask, genuinely curious about his opinion on where we stand while they’re out there killing and torturing their enemies.
“What about them?”
“Only good for keeping your house tidy and raising more little boys to continue your empire?” I ask, taking a punt.
I’ve experienced how they treat Calli. It’s not hard to believe that the guys have similar opinions of what they want from their women.
“Depends on the woman,” he confesses, taking a swig from his bottle.