Page 70 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

The only reason she hadn’t cut them off without a second thought was Mathilde. Who was, by that point, all of thirteen. And deserved her parents as little as Jolie had.

She was afraid she knew exactly what kind of things they might do with a pretty girl like Mathilde.

How could she live with herself if she let them? When she could do something to stop them? She couldn’t. She justcouldn’t.

So she’d done the only thing she could. She’d struck a bargain.

And she’d been paying for it ever since.

Still, it was good to remind herself that she hadn’t simplyended uphere, she told herself now, gazing at the bookshelves before her that fairlyachedwith all the books they held. Even this marriage she found herself in now was a choice she’d made. Because, after all, a lack ofgoodchoices wasn’t the same thing as a lack of choices.

You survived this far,she reminded herself.You’ll survive a little longer.

Maybe then, when all the surviving was done, maybe she would givelivinga try.

But first there were flower arrangements and incoming guests. Bookkeeping and bills. Myths to embody and legends to keep afloat. Yet just as she was preparing to get back to her to-do list, something changed.

There was a disturbance in the air. And it seemed to be connected directly to her nervous system, or perhaps it was simply in her bones.

It was a winnowing. A tightening. A sudden shift.

Jolie was completely unsurprised to look up and find Apostolis there in the door to the library.

“Working hard I see,” he said with his usual censure. When they were alone, he didn’t bother to dress it up in a charming, playboyish smile. And she could have disabused him of the notion that she was lazy. That all she did here was lounge about, avoiding work. But that might indicate that she cared what he thought of her.

She couldn’t have that.

Jolie went even more languid in the chair. She made her hand wave a work of artful ennui. “I am the trophy wife, remember? Why should I work?”

She had the distinct pleasure of watching those distractingly sensual lips of his firm, then press into a tight line. Maybe one day she would find herself adult enough—mature enough—to keep from feeling joy when she jabbed at this man. One day she would find her way to blessed indifference.

But that was not today.

“I am not my father,” he told her, with that seething note in his dark voice.

He drew closer and everything in her urged her to stand up, to face off with him. To do what she could to at least stand tall before him—which was not tall enough, but certainly put her more the level of his face than she was now.

But she didn’t.

Jolie lounged in that chair, giving every impression that she was exactly the sort of spoiled little party girl he thought she was.

“Is this an identity crisis?” she asked as he stalked closer. “If so, my suggestion for you is to seek therapy. Daddy issues can be so pernicious.”

He didn’t respond to that directly, but she did enjoy the slight flare of his nostrils, and the way the muscles in his jaw clenched tight. It was the little things.

“I understand that you might think that nothing will be expected of you. I imagine that’s how your life has gone up to this point. But I have no intention of carrying you along like dead weight. You will work—”

“Or what?” she asked mildly. “For one thing, we’re stuck with each other and no one put you in charge. For another, what exactly do you know about the business of running the Hotel Andromeda, Apostolis?”

“Anything my father could do, I’m quite certain I can do better.”

She made herself laugh, though that hard look he had trained on her made it more difficult than it should have been. “And again I say...daddy issues.”

“It is nothing to do withdaddy issues.” And the way he said those words made her think that the very taste of them in his mouth was sour. She liked that, too. “It is a simple fact that he was an old man. His attention to detail has slipped, to put it mildly.” He shook his head at her, doing nothing at all to hide his distaste. “As his wife, I would expect you to have noticed that.”

This time she laughed to cover her own surprise. “You’d be surprised the sorts of things I know about the men I’ve married.”

She made that sound airy, as if she was just talking rubbish to annoy him. Inside, however, she was more than a little shaken.

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