Page 231 of Chandelier Sin
I didn’t regret it. Atticus was the first man I’d ever felt a connection to, the first man I’d ever trusted. The first man I’d ever fallen in love with.
In the stillness, I waited for the imminent heartache I was about to experience if Atticus saw the wisdom in denying us.
He held my gaze as though offering a silent plea that echoed his decision to untangle our hearts.
“Listen,” said Atticus, assessing Aemon with hooded eyes. “I believe this moment opens new doors for us. You’ve floated the idea of an alliance. A business arrangement that would benefit us both. I see this opportunity for us as advantageous.”
“What about the matter of you fucking my wife, Atticus?” asked Aemon, his tone full of disdain.
“Well, that was my gift to you, Aemon. And I’m sorry if you don’t see it that way.”
“I admit to garnering some dark pleasure from watching you together. Unlike me, you seemed to understand what her cunt needs.”
“Aemon,” I snapped.
“I’m not threatened by him,” he added. “This man can’t afford you. Your tastes are too expensive. You’re far too spoiled to ever go without the luxuries of life.”
That wasn’t true but there was no arguing with him. If he’d paidany attention, he’d know that I’d much preferred the modest cottage to that big, lonely house.
“You were going to have Lance abuse me,” I bit out.
“Well, he’s dead now. I wouldn’t be surprised if your actions had something to do with it.”
“He was warned against visiting the sixth floor.” I shook my head. “Those are your rules.”
I turned away, refusing to let Aemon see how much I loved Atticus with every fiber of my being.
It was a proclamation of love that we refused to say until now, as we shared glances of reassurance, proof he would protect me. I needed to protect him, too.
As I held Atticus’ gaze, the unspoken words formed a silent pact, a promise that we’d survive this.
But then it faded, and Atticus’ eyes turned dark.
He pushed to his feet. “I brought her to you. Here she is. I went out of my way to prove my loyalty. Now let’s talk business.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” said Aemon.
My mouth went dry as I tried to fathom what he was suggesting.
“I’ve returned your wife back to you,” said Atticus. “In exchange, I get a piece of Pendulum.”
The ground beneath my feet felt unsteady.
Aemon’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “She’ll always be my wife.”
“Yes, but I prevented her from bolting. Don’t I get points for that?” Atticus arched a brow.
My heart stuttered and I became dizzy and flushed, sweat snaking down my back as I tried to understand what was happening, his betrayal cutting deep.
“Atticus?” I said breathlessly.
No, please, you were the only one I believed in.
“Call me, sir,” Atticus snapped. “And address your husband with respect.”
Aemon beamed with pleasure from the dark unfolding delightof seeing me berated. Seeing me subjugated was always something he savored.
When a veil is lifted, and you see things the way they really are, there is no denying the truth in front of you.
