Page 7 of Vampires of Eden
Raphael shakes his head, grimacing as if some true personal offense has been committed.
“Breathe,” I say. He rolls his shoulders. I go on. “Ollie’s situation at home was bad—worse than I could have imagined. I should have paid closer attention to what was going on, then I would have understood the animosity he harbored toward our arrangement. It’s on me.”
I am a fool. Ashwin is right about this point.
The way I behaved toward Oliver leading up to our wedding… thinking about it now makes me recoil. How thoughtless I was. Arrogant. I figured if I was just myself—the way I am with Raphael when I’m comfortable at home—Oliver would relax and we’d have fun. I assumed he’d get used to me. Everything would be alright, eventually.
Somehow, though, my every action served to push him further away and our relationship deteriorated.
By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. The sensation was like a switch being flicked in my head.Click. I understood Oliver’s feelings. His blatant fixation on the designer wasn’t an unrequited and harmless crush. It was very real. And very notunrequited.
Humiliation flooded my heart in a way that I’ve never experienced. Shame and painful regret. These heavy emotions squat like a slimy toad inside my chest. At times, the cringe overtakes every inch of my being. Crippling me.
“Welp, Lexie, we’ll just always disagree on this topic. I hear what you’re saying, but I still think Oliver is a selfish prat and that you can do much, much better.”
“Lord Cherrington is better?” I say, staring up at him. “And not ‘Lexie.’ That was fine when we were little, but it doesn’t fit anymore. How about ‘Zander,’ like inBuffy.” My cat tilts her head and flickers her ears in attention. “Not you,” I tell her.
Raphael’s face falls flat. “No and no. Zander is the worst, you’re nothing like?—”
My phone buzzes loudly against the nightstand. Like two well-trained animals, Raphael and me both pause, glance toward it, then look at each other.
“Leave it,” I say.
“Speak of the narcissistic little devil. I’ll bet that’s him.”
“That’s enough.” Trying to play it cool, I adjust my spine against the comforter.
Raphael scowls. “You want to check it, so go ahead. He’s leaving for Thailand tomorrow night, right? I’m surprised you haven’t chartered a private jet to take him there.”
“Enough.” My chest tightens and the rush of emotion colors my face. Frustration and shame. Disappointment churning silently but densely in my heart. I’ve been stifling and wrestling with these feelings for weeks, but today? I can’t deal.
“Go,” I say, gently lifting and easing Buffy from my chest. I crawl toward the top of my bed and collapse onto my stomach. Buffy follows, but curls up near the pillow behind me.
The bed shifts as Raphael stands. The carpet muffles his steps as he moves. When he speaks, his voice calls out from the door. “Do not offer to take him to the airport. You’re really busy tomorrow anyway with the quarterly Governing Board meeting and lunch with?—”
“Leave.”
The door clicks open. Raphael sighs. “Listen, I know…Pleasedon’t be heartbroken over this. Yes, it was a long engagement, and I do understand how you felt about him. You don’t like hearing it,but Oliver was never right for you, Lexie. We’ll find someone whoseesyou, alright? Who pays attention. And not Lord Cherrington, for God’s sake. Goodnight...”
When the door closes, I curl into myself and close my eyes. There is no “someone.” Because what is there to see? I’m an idiot that’s fucked everything up.
Everything.
I’ve promised my entire dowry to Lord Blakeley in exchange for Oliver’s freedom.
In this aristocracy, that alone was my bargaining tool. Aside from my royal title and our family’s legacy as being one of the original clans to sign the Eden Peace Treaty to end the war, having an impressive dowry is what granted me autonomy in this antiquated system. It allowed me to have some agency in choosing a mate.
When I turned eighteen, the money was signed over for me to manage. The sum was exceptionally large compared with most Eden dowries, because both of my parents come from vampire clans that have hoarded generational wealth and managed prosperous business investments for centuries.
All of this makes me attractive among Eden’s elite purebred families. But for all these years, I’ve only ever focused on one vampire. He alone held my heart in the palm of his hand… whether he wanted it or not.
In my parents’ eyes—particularly my mother’s—I’ve recklessly thrown away my share of our wealth. Now, I’m cut off. I’m an irresponsible vampire because I’ve swiftly failed in helping our ridiculously wealthy empire prosper.
My phone buzzes again. A new message? Or a reminder of the last one, impatiently waiting to be seen. Still huddled in the fetal position, I stretch my arm out and haphazardly grab the device from the nightstand. When I drag and flip it up toward my face, it glows to life with three messages.
All from Ollie.
[Hi, I just wanted to remind you that I leave tomorrow.]
