Page 52 of Twisted Truths

I follow his gaze to the sight of them laughing with each other and chatting easily without an ulterior motive. My gut churns because I’m still not a part of it. Not really.

My brothers have found their life partners, but I can never be that to someone. If I even tried, I’d end up hurting and destroying them. There’s too much of my father in me for any other outcome, and I refuse to do that to the person who’s supposed to mean the most to me.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

It’s all I can offer him. I’ve already lied to them today by making them think that Ariana is the end game for me. I don’t have it in me to double down on the lie.

But Asher being Asher, he picks up on my little avoidance tactic. “Something wrong, Sid?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s just a lot, you know.”

Understanding flits in his blue eyes. “It is. Especially when you were raised the way we were. But you’ll get used to it. Learn to trust it.”

I nod, because what else can I do? “I need to get back to my office. Have to finish going over the contract Havis Corp sent over for the acquisition.”

“Let me know if anything seems amiss.”

“Should be fine. The team’s been over it already, but I just want to be sure. See you later.”

He nods, then joins Anabelle.

I leave his office with anticipation firing in my veins, eager to brainstorm all the ways I can initiate Ariana next weekend, but at the same time, there’s a lump in my throat. Because despite all the changes in my life, I still carry around a piece of the feeling I had on that stormy beach—that I’m not meant to have what my brothers have found.

With one final thrust, I push into Ariana and hold myself there, spilling inside her.

Her hands skim over the scars dotting my back, but she doesn’t ask about them. Hasn’t asked about them, thankfully.

Leaning in, I kiss her neck, then I roll off of her, throwing my arm up over my head, and work to control my breathing.

Since our deal was struck, we haven’t been able to get enough of each other. I feel as if I’m a slave to an addiction because even minutes after I’ve come inside her, I want her again.

She groans next to me, and I roll over to face her, lying on my side with my head in my palm.

“I have to go shower and get ready.”

I frown. “Where are you going?”

She rolls over to face me. “It’s Saturday night. I’m going to meet my brother.”

Fuck. I had so many other plans for her and for her body tonight. “Does he visit you every weekend?”

She stills at my question and alarms flare red in my mind. “We’re close. We both still lived with my dad before I came here.”

Ariana hasn’t said much about how she grew up, but the little she has said, and knowing that her mother took off on her, makes me think it wasn’t an easy upbringing. I know better than anyone how trauma can bond siblings.

I want to ask her more questions: Where is she from? What was her childhood like? What’s her brother like? But I’m trying hard to stick to what we’ve agreed to, and knowing more personal details about her will only make it more difficult.

“Well, make sure you tell him you’re unavailable next Saturday.”

She gives me a questioning look.

“It’s your initiation into the Ritual Room.”

Her eyes widen.

“Having second thoughts?” I try to keep my voice casual as though it wouldn’t matter to me either way, but I feel the panic course through me.

“Not at all. I’m just nervous, not sure what to expect.”

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