Was I disgusting enough that he’d send me away? Would he pick up where Mitchell left off? Punish me for running my mouth?
He’d seemed surprised by what I revealed, but sickness like that ran in families. Odds were he was just as crazy as his brother. Or worse.
Mitchell always told me Vander was insane. That if I believed he was bad, I had no idea how much worse it could get.
When a monster tells you to fear someone, you believe them.
“I’d like you to eat breakfast with me.” His voice was deep and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. Reminding me of how he’d whispered in my ear that day in his office. How he’d made me feel alive. Feel like something besides an empty shell of a person.
“And if I don’t?” My heart seized. My throat closed.
What was I doing? I couldn’t push a gangster like him. I would never have dared to speak to Mitchell like that.
My chest rose with an unsteady breath as he lifted his head, and our eyes connected. The energy inside me expanded, choked the oxygen from my lungs. His gaze swept over me like he was trying to see the scars under my clothes. But there was nothing visible; I always made sure of that.
Vander sighed as he ran a hand through his brown hair. Another curl fell. My fingers itched to put it back in place.
No! I didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
“I won’t force you. But I’m a busy man. There’s a good chance I won’t see you for the rest of the day. I’d really like to have breakfast with my wife.”
His wife? A stamp of ownership. A silent command.
“I’ll be right down.” I shut the door, slumping against it.
My breaths became easier as I heard his retreating footsteps. I could do this. I could face the monster again.
I hurriedly dressed, not wanting to make him wait. When I got downstairs, he was placing plates of eggs on the island in the kitchen. They were on opposite ends, with three seats in between, like he knew I wouldn’t want to sit next to him.
He gave me a small smile as he took the farthest chair. Reluctantly, I followed. Taking the few steps and sitting at the island with him.
It was silent as he chewed his food. My nerves bounced around as I picked up my fork. I pushed the eggs across my plate as I waited for him.
Even though I was expecting it, I still jumped at his voice. The sound was deep, twisting my insides. “Is there something wrong with your food?”
I turned to face him. His brows pulled over curious dark green eyes. “I don’t like egg white omelets.”
I wasn’t sure why I told the truth. Maybe because I’d already told him so much. Maybe I could no longer shut that door inside me and hold it all in anymore. I wasn’t sure, but it came tumbling out.
“But you have one every—.” His brows snapped straight as realization crossed his face. As he took in the depths of Mitchell’s control over me. “Fuck.”
He cursed under his breath as he stood. The sudden movement made me flinch as he took my plate. I controlled my breathing, taking slow inhales as he rounded the island, setting it in the sink.
He stared at it as he spoke. “What do you like?”
“I’m really not hungry.”
His fingers curled into the counter. “That’s not what I asked.”
He didn’t have to shout and scream to make me scared. This quiet anger was just as effective. The undertone that if I didn’t answer, there would be trouble. “Bacon and scrambled eggs, please.”
Vander nodded before he started pulling the ingredients from the fridge. As the bacon sizzled in the pan, he finally looked at me again. My skin tingled under his intense gaze.
“Is this why—.” He cut himself off, shaking his head and turning back to the stove.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. I didn’t know how to react to him. To someone who knew what I’d gone through. I spent six long years burying the pain. Hiding the bruises. Putting on a smile. “You already know, just ask what you want to ask.”
When he raised his gaze to me again, I couldn’t breathe. The soft look in his eyes had my chest tightening. Had me wishing it was anyone but me who’d suffered. I disliked the pity. Couldn’t stand being a victim. Because I’d let myself become one.