To his credit, Tristian argues, “She used to be a hooker, mother. And let’s be honest. It’s not the hooking part you have an issue with. Half the women in that ballroom are using sex to get ahead. You’re just looking down on Posey because she didn’t charge enough.”
There’s a brief pause, and then his mother’s hiss. “I’ve had to put on a good face because of your father’s business with Daniel Payne, but there’s no way in hell I’m allowing you to trot that girl out on that dance floor at midnight.”
“But you think Genevieve is a good choice?” Tristian says in a low snarl. “The bitch who humiliated me in front of the whole—”
His mother scoffs. “That was years ago, Tristian! You were both kids. She made a mistake, but even she realizes that it’s time to grow up, make amends, and get back to the business of building a stable future with a good partner. An appropriate partner.”
“She’s not a broodmare and I’m not your goddamn stud.” I flinch at the sharpness in his voice. “None of this is your business.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” his dad’s voice rings out. “It’s business. You have an obligation, and it’s not to South Side or Daniel Payne. You’re not a thug, Tristian. You’re a Mercer, and you’ve tarnished your reputation enough. You’re certainly not going to ruin it further by making some kind of declaration about your house girl.“ His father lets out a scornful laugh. “Everyone knows Royal women are good for two things, and both of them are located between their legs.”
Tristian snaps, “Watch what you’re saying,” and his father barrels right over him.
“I’ve allowed this spoiled, petulant, entitled behavior to go on too long. Christ, son, you were held at gunpoint!”
“And that bastard is dead,” Tristian argues. “Because of Story.”
“We can’t allow these kind of people around the twins,” his mother says, tone softer now, as if she’s begging him to understand. “You know I’m right. You’ve had your father stepping up security around them for weeks. You’re killing yourself driving over here every two days, texting them all the time. Something has you scared, and you can’t tell me she isn’t a part of it.”
This is all news to me. Tristian is scared for the twins? He’s been over here that much?
“I have it under control.” The words sound ground out through gnashed teeth, and they make my stomach sink. Because she’s right. I can hear it in his voice—can just imagine the steely shadow crossing over his face as he says the words.
He is scared for them.
I’d been fine until that point. I know what Tristian and I have. I know it runs deep, but I’m fully aware that it’s unconventional and impossible to maintain. It’s dark and dirty and sexy and depraved, and could never be explained to the likes of his mother. I light the match, and he sets the fire. He tells me to bend, and I let him push me until I’m about to break.
But there are some things he just can’t control, and the complete nightmare known as my life is one of them.
With my heart in my throat, I step away from the door, not even knowing where to go. It takes me a long moment of wandering to find the corridor we’d entered the ballroom through. On either side of me, the Christmas trees twinkle and shine, but it doesn’t penetrate—not like it had when we first arrived and I’d swelled with wonder and joy at the sight of it all. Now the blue and silver looks too cold, the lights too bright, the branches looming and greedy. I feel suddenly exposed, as if one glance could reveal me, an imposter in a pretty gown and shiny shoes.
By the time I find a bathroom to duck into, my feet hurt.
It’s a well-lit space that’s almost as big as my room at home. An enormous mirror sits above two decorative basins, and there’s a pile of elaborately embroidered hand towels stacked by each. It’s immaculately tiled—perhaps more marble—and the light fixture has crystals hanging from it. I focus on these details to slow my breathing, reaching into my small clutch to retrieve my phone.
He answers on the fourth ring.
“What happened.” It’s not a question. Killian’s just a hopeless pessimist in that way.
“He threatened them, didn’t he?” My lungs still feel constricted, but I push through an exhale, and it shudders out of me. “The twins. Ted threatened them.” There’s a long stretch of silence before Killian answers.