Page 88 of Beautiful Scar

“Yes, actually.” She softens slightly as she stares at her drink. “Go ahead, laugh and make your stupid comments, but it’s true.You got to grow up with Arsen. My natural son. You were his family, and I was just… Aunt Sona. I was jealous of you because he treated you like a brother and protected you, while he was nothing to me. And I guess I grew bitter over the years.”

I let that sink in. A part of me can understand how that might be hard. “I was just a kid,” I tell her, shaking my head. “None of that was my fault.”

“I know,” she says, sighing. “I never said I’m a good person.”

“No good people for miles around here,” I mumble quietly.

“Listen, I think your methods are brainless and overly aggressive. But I can concede that you occasionally achieve good outcomes.”

“That’s just about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

She flips me off and finishes her drink. “Arsen’s sick of our fighting. Are you going to be stubborn, or are you going to find a way to work with me?”

I don’t answer right away. I get what she’s doing. Give me a little personal story and make me think everything’s good between us. But in a day or two, she’ll be back to treating me with disdain.

But she’s right. Arsen wants the bickering to stop, and she is my aunt. We have to find a way to work together, even if I’d rather slice open her throat and kick her body into the harbor.

I can admit that she’s one of the smartest and best-organized people I’ve ever met, and we’re better with her in leadership.

“We’ll call a truce,” I say, feeling deeply reluctant. “But only because Arsen wants it. No more undercutting me. No more fighting you on everything you say.”

“Fine. Truce.”

I get to my feet. “Now, I’m going home to my wife. I’m betting she’s worried.”

Sona’s little smile drives me crazy. “You care about what someone else feels? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Fuck off, old shrew.”

“Right back at you.”

Chapter 27

Dasha

The whole bed stinks like a fire. I strip off the sheets, mumbling to myself as I toss them down the laundry chute. Tigran came home extremely late, reeking of alcohol and flames, and I wasn’t even mad at him.

Just relieved that he’d come home at all.

But now, in the ugly harsh light of day, I’m kind of annoyed. I mean, seriously, did he have to literally run around in a fire last night? And he couldn’t have tried to wash the stink off?

This is good, though. It’s better that I’m annoyed at him for smelling like a smoker’s lung than crying over his dead body.

There’s a knock at Tigran’s bedroom door. I finish tucking in the sheets and hurry to answer it. Vito’s waiting for me with a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag.

“Good morning,” he says, brushing past me and into the living room.

“How’d you know I was in here?” I ask, slightly surprised.

“You and Tigran have been sharing a bed for a while now.” He clucks his tongue at me, smiling. “Nothing happens in this house without me knowing. Besides, they’re still replacing the windows in your room.”

“Okay, good point.” I sit down at the table and sip the coffee. “What’s in the bag?”

“This, my dear, is for you.” His smile fades, and he gives me a knowing look as he pushes it over. “You’ve been feeling sick lately, haven’t you?”

“Kind of,” I admit, frowning as I open it up. “I mean, it’s been a little weird, but I’m in a new environment, and I’m pretty stressed, so I just thought…”

I trail off, unable to finish that sentence, as I pull out three boxes of pregnancy tests.

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