Page 60 of Covetous

He dips his chin in a slow nod, worrying his lower lip between his teeth—a telltale sign, I suspect, of his crumbling self-control. That feral stare devours me, stripping me bare and rekindling the embers of our shared past. It’s the same look he gave me before he claimed me on the beach, body and soul. “All right. You?”

“Same.” I’m doing my best to keep it together when everything in me wants to melt into his arms.

“Mom,” Victor greets, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Izzy…Dad,” he adds, his tone borderline biting with Dad, a veil of tension lingering between him and his stepfather.

“Victor,” his stepdad replies curtly as Isabella and her mom observe their interaction, seemingly hoping for a civil exchange between the two men. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Anything for Stella. Speaking of, where is she?” Victor’s love for his sisters is clear, a deep-rooted sentiment that even his stepfather seems to acknowledge, judging by the softening of his expression.

Isabella points to the crowd. “Over there with Alex, her new boyfriend.”

Victor’s forehead wrinkles, his eyes narrowing. “How old is he?”

Eleanor waves off his worry. “Alexander is a nice young man. He comes over for dinner every Sunday.”

I take it Victor is not at those dinners, or he probably would’ve known about Alex.

“Nineteen,” his stepfather interjects. “He’s the lieutenant governor’s son.”

Victor’s lips twist with disdain. “Guess that makes it okay to pimp out your daughter to a legal adult, then.”

The urge to disappear into the background hits me hard. If only I could blend into the party and escape this uncomfortable moment. Eleanor’s eyes widen in a mixture of hurt and horror, her smile faltering as she shifts uncomfortably. I can see the pain in her eyes, a mother’s love for her son warring with the sting of his harsh words.

“That’s enough,” the senator bites, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

Victor meets his stepfather’s gaze head-on, his posture relaxed, and his expression unchanging. He doesn’t flinch or look away, seemingly unfazed by the senator’s displeasure.

“Let’s go, honey,” Eleanor interjects, her voice strained as she tugs on her husband’s arm. “We promised to make ourselves scarce.”

The senator takes a deep breath, his hard gaze lingering on Victor for a moment before he nods curtly. He turns to Isabella—who looks as uncomfortable as I feel—and his expression softens. “Keep an eye on things, please.”

“No worries, Daddy.” She flashes him a reassuring grin as he and Eleanor walk away.

Victor moves closer to me, his breath hot against my ear. “You look amazing in that dress. It’s fucking killing me not to throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my skin tingling. Isabella, eyes glued to her phone, grumbles, “Get a room.”

I take a step back, but his gaze remains locked on mine. The sizzling tension between us is palpable, as always.

“Victor!” Stella’s voice snaps us out of it. She pushes through the crowd and throws herself at her brother, who scoops her up in a big hug. Stella talks nonstop, bubbling with excitement. Alex, however, hangs back, looking uneasy under Victor’s hard stare.

While Victor’s busy with the two of them, I slip away from the group. I need a second to breathe and clear my head. As I make my way through the crowd, I can still feel Victor’s eyes on me, his magnetic pull never quite letting go.

I’m stuck on the sidelines, feeling totally out of place. My eyes keep drifting back to Victor like they’ve got a mind of their own. Tonight’s making one thing crystal clear— I'll never get over him. Period. And as if my thoughts have summoned him, Victor steps up beside me while I'm fidgeting with my engagement ring, sliding it from side to side.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he says, looking straight ahead.

“Me neither,” I admit.

“I’ve missed you.”

My heart does a backflip, then starts racing like I’ve just run a marathon. “I’ve missed you too.”

His fingers brush against mine, sending goose bumps skittering up my arm. We’re playing with fire here, and we both know it. Despite that, our pinkies intertwine, connecting us in the middle of this crazy party.

“Meet me in my old room. Upstairs, west wing. Four doors down on the left.” He lets go of my pinky and walks away, leaving me breathless.

The pull toward him is too strong. I can’t resist, no matter how wrong it is.

---