Page 61 of Cage the Storm
Both of us ignore her comment and pretend we didn’t hear her. It’s not worth an argument.
“Did you two enjoy the alone time?” I'm not sure if Bria is trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse.
“We managed,” I reply as Nico’s fingers tap once against the table. I feel the moment he’s had enough, the slight straightening of his spine.
“That’s enough.” Bria lifts a brow, but the smirk dies. His mother sets down her teacup. Waiting.
“This is my house,” he says calmly, but there's an edge to his voice. “Luna and I have settled into a routine while you’ve been away. I won’t tolerate any disrespect in my home. Let’s eat, catch up, and leave whatever game you’re playing at the door.”
“Who said I was playing?” Bria hums, tearing off another piece of croissant.
Nico turns to Bria then, his gaze unwavering. “You’re not in Santorini anymore.”
Bria laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, trust me, I noticed.”
“Then act like it.”
A challenge flashes in her eyes, but she doesn’t push further. She takes another bite of her croissant instead, but I catch her fingers tapping against the table. She’s restless. Like her brother.
His mother watches the exchange silently, taking it all in, filing it away as always.
I slowly sip my tea, settling into the quiet, knowing it won’t last long.
CHAPTER FIFTY
NICOLAI
The clink of silverware,the hum of conversation, I let it all fade into the background, studying the scene before me.
Bria settled into her chair, watching with that ever-present amusement. My mother, refined and impassive, sipping her tea like she’s filing away every moment for later scrutiny. And Luna.
Luna in red. Looking gorgeous and commanding the room.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she chose it. The silk caresses her body like a second skin, and she won’t be told what to wear in our house.
I let her have her moment for now.
Beneath the table, my fingers press lightly against her thigh. She doesn’t so much as blink, and no one’s the wiser.
The conversation continues around us, Bria recounts their travels, and my mother offers quiet commentary where necessary.
I speak at the right moments and answer when prompted, but my mind is elsewhere. The estate is no longer ours alone. I have business to attend to. And Luna has secrets she thinks she’s hiding.
The meal concludes with routine farewells, my mother disappearing into the east wing, and Bria vanishing toward the courtyard.
Luna moves to stand, but I place a firm hand against her wrist.
“Come with me.”
She’s wary as she follows me down the quiet corridor toward the library. Then she steps inside, crossing her arms as she leans against the bar. “If this is about the dress, save your breath.”
I close the door behind us, turning to face her. “It’s not.”
“Then what?” I’m afraid she’s prepared for a fight that’s not coming. So, I close the distance between us. My wife is always on the defensive.
“You did well.” Her breath catches, shocked that I’m not angry. “They needed to see it. Proof that you’re not just wearing my name, you own it.”
Pride sizzles in her gaze, then I lean in. “But don’t take it too far.”
