The same one I loved all my life and counted down the days to marrying.
That familiar air of authority and desire to protect me emanates from his presence, and he still looks at me with the same adoration.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Desmier’s angry voice rips into my daze and I shudder from deep within. The playfulness we shared moments ago is gone and the ruthless devil is back once again.
He drops my hand like a steel weight and when he marches up to Viktor, I instantly realize this is my fault. My one and only text weeks ago resulted in this visit. This is around about the time Viktor said he would drop by. I just never had a date or hour, and then I forgot altogether that he was coming.
I can’t believe I actually forgot. When I first got here, holding on to the idea of seeing him was all that kept me going.
“I was invited,” Viktor replies with a smug grin.
“Fucking invited by whom?”
I rush forward, resting my hand on Desmier’s arm. “Me.”
His gaze snaps to mine and rage flares in his eyes like the untamed fires of hell.
“You?”
“You said, remember?”
“When the hell did I say—?”
“When I first got here, that’s when. You allowed me one text.”
He narrows his eyes, and I feel the hard muscles on his arm flexing beneath my fingers. “You didn’t know I’d be back today. I specifically said I needed to be around if he was going to come here.”
“That’s my fault.” Gytha speaks up, standing a little taller, setting her shoulders back like she’s posing for the camera. “I informed your brother you’d be back, and I didn’t think it would be a problem for him to come today since Anastasia had invited him.”
She really is one messy bitch. One look at her and I can tell she’s loving this. She took what I started and fashioned it into something else that worked for her.
I haven’t seen her since that day she was watching me with Desmier. It was clear she hated seeing us together when she’s supposed to be the queen.
People like her look for any opening to screw with you. Especially when you allow them to.
Like I have to do now. No matter how conflicted I am about my feelings, I owe it to Viktor to speak with him. Even at the cost of Desmier’s wrath.
“I need to see him, Desmier.” I tug on Desmier’s arm then drop my hands at my sides.
The same fury continues to blaze in his eyes, but if there’s one thing I know about him it’s that he’s a man of his word.
“We’ll just be in the living room.” I nod as if he asked me something and I’m giving a response.
All he gives back to me is a stony glare with no words and no other emotion besides rage.
This is the first time I’ve seen the brothers together since the wedding. I knew they didn’t like each other by what Desmier did during that phone call, but I didn’t realize how much he hated Viktor until now.
“Come, we have things to talk about too.” Gytha takes Desmier’s arm and tugs on it, but he doesn’t look away from me.
I already know he’s going to be mad at me when Viktor leaves, so I just walk into the living room with Viktor following.
We sit opposite each other and neither of us speaks until Desmier walks away, Gytha in tow with her runway strut.
Viktor sighs and relaxes his shoulders as he softens his expression.
I can’t believe how long it’s been since we last saw each other. Nor all that’s happened to me since.
But what’s happened to him?