Page 33 of Mastered By Bliss

I turn toward the door and roll my eyes.He doesn’t know that I’ve told Danica everything, and there’s no reason to tell him now.This whole situation is fucking stupid.

The sidelight next to the door is frosted, so I can’t get a good look—other than I can tell it’s two people.I peer through the peephole.

Are they fucking serious?It’s Edmund fucking Layton and his buddy.I looked up the friend after that night I saw them both at Patrick’s party.Troy Manchester.He’s the muscle, the best-friend-slash-bodyguard to the Layton heir.

I yank open the door, already pissed off.

“Montrose, good to see you.”Layton smirks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Layton holds up a giant gift basket, stuffed full of fruit, of all fucking things.“We heard Sergey was under the weather.We’re here with a get-well gift.”

“Nope.”I shake my head and start to close the door.

“Please.”Layton’s voice is firm, but there’s a vulnerability underneath.“It’s a gift from my grandfather to yours.It’s a gesture of goodwill.”

“Let them in,” Granddad says from behind me.

I turn around to scowl at him.He’s standing close and he’s abandoned his cane, probably as a show of strength.

“Edmund, right?”My grandfather is all sincere hospitality, and Layton is fucking basking in it.“Ed Senior’s boy?”

“That’s right.”Layton puts on a genial smile.“And this is my best friend, Troy Manchester.”

Granddad shakes each of their hands.“Would you two boys like some coffee?”

Boys.Jesus fuck.They’re both at least five years older than me.

Layton gives Granddad an aw-shucks smile.“Yes, sir, we’d love some coffee.If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not.”Granddad leads the way into the kitchen.

“What thehell.”Danica glares at the guys.

Granddad shoots her a reproachful look.“Don’t be rude to our guests, Dani.”

Layton grins behind his back, but Manchester looks uncomfortable.

I don’t know what game my grandfather is playing.The Layton family is, and always has been, enemies of the Aseyevs.Edmund is the prince, the grandson of their leader.Seems like Granddad should be throwing fists, not making him coffee.

I’d probably understand better if I’d gone into the family business like Granddad and Mom wanted.

Granddad hands me the tray to carry to the living room.He walks ahead of me with Manchester.He’s already getting into his longwinded spiel about the history of the house—a lecture he gives to every new guest.

Behind me, Danica is walking with Layton.

“Seriously, asshole, you have some nerve.”

“What?Your grandfather had a hospital stay.My grandfather wanted me to send his respects.”

“With a motherfucking fruit basket?”

She’s being so mean, it almost makes me want to be nice to them.Almost.

“You have such a filthy mouth.”Layton says it with affection, a tiny bit of censure.

I nearly stumble.The tray of coffee and cups clatters in my hands.I recover, but I can’t un-think the thought that just tore through my brain like acid: Edmund Layton is a Dom and he has his eyes on my sister.From the sound of it, this has been going on for a while.

---