Page 113 of Sinful Desires
“Vic, knock.Jesus. I nearly had a heart attack.”
I sank back into the pillows. “What if I was doing something important? Likeactuallywriting. God forbid.”
Victoria ignored me and started rifling through my closet.
I sighed. “I don’t want to go.”
“Too bad. You’re going.”
“I don’t want to see Angelo.”
That made her pause.
I sat up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. “I’m serious. I don’t want to fake smile for that traitor and pretend we’re still all one big happy dysfunctional creative family team.”
“Scarlett?…”
“No. He sold me out, Vic. He let my father make medisappear.”
Victoria sat beside me, legs tucked up, and reached for my hands.
“He came every week,” she said quietly. “With Jade. To see you in rehab, babe.”
I looked away.
“He apologized a thousand times.”
Angelo, Jade, Victoria, Alexsei, and his wife, Caia, were the only ones to visit me with any regularity. My mom and Kiara had come too, but just three times that entire year, sneaking in like strangers so my dad wouldn’t know.
In the beginning, I’d refused to see anyone. I was too sedated, too shell-shocked to do anything but stare at the ceiling and pretend I wasn’t falling apart.
They’d kept coming anyway. Week after week. Fresh bouquets of lavender had appeared in my room, always on the same day. A silent peace offering.
Still, I refused.
Eventually, the silence had started to drive me insane, and I’d given in. Let them in. But not without conditions.
If they hadn’t brought sweets or chocolate, I sent them right back out. I’d made sure they knew I was pissed, and blamed them for everything I could.
But the truth?
Deep down, I knew I’d needed it.
I was an addict. An alcoholic.
“Your father did everything behind everyone’s back. By the time you were in that helicopter, it was too fucking late.” Her voice cracked at the end, and when I glanced back, her eyes were glassy.
I yanked my hands away. “If you’re about to cry, I swear I’ll slap you so hard you won’t be able to smile for a week.”
She blinked, then laughed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “No worries. I’m practicing my resting bitch face anyway.”
“Good,” I muttered, leaning against her shoulder. “You’ll need it. That party’s going to be a nightmare.”
She let out a laugh, grabbed my arm, and tugged me up with zero patience for my whining. “Up. Now.”
Before I could protest, she was dragging me across the room and gently shoving me into the bathroom like I was a stubborn toddler.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
