Page 80 of Thorns of Deceit
My gaze drifted to the window, where the Paris skyline unfolded. From this vantage point, I could just make out the bell towers of Notre-Dame rising solemnly above the rooftops, and beyond them, the Seine winding its ageless path through this timeless, almost sacred city.
And yet, I had the unsettling feeling that what I was about to do would leave a mark on it, however faint.
I turned my head and met my brother’s eyes. “I’m going to use this information and force her to stay with me.”
Tyran let out a relieved breath. “That’s not so bad. At least you won’t kill her.”
“Why would I do that? She’s my wife and I’m going to make her the mother of my children.”
Surprise flickered in his gaze. “Wow, moving fast, I see. No judgment here, I’m just surprised you’re not planning to punish her for letting you believe she was dead all this time.”
I smiled cruelly. “Oh, I’m going to make her pay.”
She would enjoy it, of course, but I would enjoy it more.
THIRTY
RAVEN
It had been a month—six weeks to be exact—since the night I last saw Aiden. The night he took me to his penthouse and I gave him, or maybe he took, my virginity, almost didn’t feel real. I could easily convince myself that it was a dream, if not for the lingering worry of my late period.
Truthfully, I was surprised he’d left me alone, but deep down, I knew our story wasn’t finished because I would catch glimpses of his brothers in the most unexpected places, and once or twice, I swore I even saw Aiden himself.
What I couldn’t understand was why he’d given me space. Or time.
Now, Isla and her family had just dropped me and Athena off at the apartment from Reina’s engagement party, and I found myself heading straight for my bedroom, craving quiet.
My feet ached from the heels I wore and, frankly, so did my eyes. The girls and I had attempted to rebel against her marriage arrangement by wearing garments in all types of bright, obnoxious colors. Of course, it didn’t work, and we looked like clowns.
Reina’s fiancé’s persistence made my chest tighten with sympathy for her. But that sympathy quickly turned inward, to the thought of my own husband—the man I’d left behind to think I was dead. The thought alone sent my anxiety spiraling. He was angry, I could feel it, and whatever this was… it was his way of making me pay.
Was this torment? Or something darker I couldn’t name? What was I supposed to do about him now?
A shudder crawled down my spine as filthy, unwelcome—or that’s what I kept telling myself—images filled my mind.
“Get it together, Raven,” I muttered, kicking off my heels. They hit the floor with a dull thud as I began pacing the perimeter of my bedroom.
I knew what I had to do, but I’d been putting it off for five days, praying and hoping my body would fix everything on its own. Five days of excuses.
I blamed it on stress, on excitement, on everything and anything but the truth. My husband and I.
Damn Aiden.
Damn the way he made me lose control.
Damn him and those amazing orgasms and unprotected sex.
How could I have been so stupid to forget about protection? Still, I couldn’t ignore the tight pull in my chest or the faint nausea churning in my stomach.
I headed for the bathroom, moving fast before I could talk myself out of it. The harsh overhead light buzzed, throwing sharp angles across the tiles. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, pale and uncertain.
I dug through the first aid kit under the sink until my fingers closed around the slim box the girls and I kept stocked. It’d started out as a joke, but every few months it needed restocking. Now, it was more of a “don’t ask” situation.
My stomach twisted as I tore it open, unfolded the crinkled instructions, and forced myself to read every line like it was a legal document that could decide my fate.
“Okay,” I muttered, following the steps to the letter, my hands trembling despite my effort to remain calm.
A minute later, I snapped the cap on the stick, sealing away whatever truth it held, and headed back into the bedroom. I shoved the test into an old toiletry bag I’d been meaning to throw out.
