Page 25 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

I seek solace where I usually do, in my daughter’s room. She’s fast asleep, drifting tranquilly in a sea of plush animals. I run gentle fingers through her silky hair, kiss her on the forehead, and try to feel the peace that she’s feeling right now. Today was spent with her tutor, and I was so caught up in the turbulence of my own mind that I couldn’t figure out how to pull her aside and explain what just happened to our family.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that she has a new mother? She liked Raleigh well enough in the five minutes they were conversing, but will she like her as a constant presence?

And for Raleigh’s part, does she even want a child? One that isn’t of her own body and that suffers from anxieties she can never understand? She was concerned about Sidony’s safety when she first found her, but anyone can be sympathetic toward a child they perceive to be in danger. That says nothing about their desire to be a parent themselves. And even if she would be happy to have Sidony as a charge, is she fit? Will I have to protect my daughter from my own wife?

These are all questions I’ve asked myself already, and ones that will keep me up for nights to come. I only wish Fantasia had paused for a single moment to think of them herself.

Speaking of which…

I place two more tender kisses on Sidony’s forehead, three kisses in total just like she would want, and straighten. I go back through my bedroom, listening for several long seconds to confirm that Raleigh is still asleep. Then I head downstairs.

I’m not surprised to find my sister awake in the drawing room, but it doesn’t improve my mood at all. A half-empty bottleof sherry balances dangerously on the cushion of the footrest in front of her, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was full when she first started drinking out of it. Fantasia stares into the last sips left in her glass. Her gaze is so empty, except for the reflection of the fire in her eyes, that it sends a chill through me. She doesn’t even notice me until I sit in the chair beside hers.

Then she blinks. Suddenly, she’s returned from whatever twisted inner world she’s built for herself. I claim the bottle of sherry, a poor consolation prize. I prefer whiskey, but I’ll take anything at this hour. Whatever I drink is less alcohol for her, too.

Fantasia smiles at me, clinking her glass against my bottle, even though I don’t reach it out to her. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

I clench the bottle so hard I feel like the skin over my knuckles will split. Not only does she assume I’ve just whored myself out for her purposes, but she’s right, and that’s worse. “Do. Not.”

She huffs. “When are you going to stop being sad, Achilles? It’s getting tiresome.”

I grit my teeth. “When are you going to stop being in love with Piers? It’s getting embarrassing.”

Her eyes widen with horrified rage, and I glare flatly in return. I’ve crossed an unspoken but nevertheless absolutely forbidden line. I don’t care. If Fantasia wants to whore me out for the sake of income, then she should be prepared for a less than pleasant response.

“What thefuckAchilles?” Fantasia asks, her voice trembling.

“Did you at least kiss him before you ordered me to kill him? Or have you been such a bitch for the last year because you’ve been left to wonder forever-”

Fantasia lunges to her feet. “Shut up!” she shrieks. Her entire face is red, and it’s impossible to tell where the rage ends and the humiliation begins.

I spread my hands, unfazed. “Don’t speak to me about my inconvenient feelings and I won’t speak about yours.”

Fantasia downs the rest of her sherry like a shot. “Is this why you let him get away?” she demands. “So you could hold it over me forever?”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve already assumed that’s the case. I learned back when you werefivethat I can’t stop you once you’ve made up your mind.”

The mention of our youth seems to mollify her somewhat. Every now and then, she needs a reminder that I have, in fact, been on her side since the day she was born. That I held her longer than our mother did when she was a wrinkly, shrieking mess newly wrapped in blankets. That I was her playmate, her protector, her teacher.

And that I will never betray her, not really, because I’ve always cared more about what’s best for her than what’s best for me.

Fantasia’s jaw works as she changes her tone. “How soon can you be ready to return to Thomas’s estate? Tonight?”

I feel like I’ve skipped ahead in the conversation and missed something crucial. “I’m sorry, when did we decide I’d be going back?”

Fantasia huffs impatiently. “How else will he find out we’re now legally entitled to Raleigh’s fortune?”

I take a swig of the sherry bottle to hide the flaring of my anger. “I’ve spent all of twenty minutes with Sidony since I got back, Fantasia. I’m not leaving her again, not anytime soon.”

She opens her mouth to argue with me, but I don’t let her. “No. No, Fantasia. I can’t be running out on her every ten seconds to do your errands. You need me, but myfour-year-oldneeds me a hell of a lot more. At some point you are going to have to start understanding that.”

Again she looks like she’ll try to fight back, but I shoot to my feet.

“I did what you wanted already, didn’t I?” I rant. “I was never going to remarry. Itold you that. But you still demanded that of me, and so I did it. Foryou. I married a stranger, an enemy, ahostage- for the sake of your schemes. And you still want more from me? No.”

“Achilles-”

“Send him another letter, Fantasia. Wait another six months to see whether or not he’ll even respond to this new threat you’ve cooked up. Or better yet- go threaten him yourself! Take a ten hour flight to his front door and fight your own battle for once.”

---