Page 15 of Owned By her Enemy
“I can do it.” I don’t need his help. I don’t.
I fumble with the phone for a few minutes as he waits patiently, one eyebrow quirked up cynically.
Stopping, I sigh. “Why would you do that for me? What would you want in return?”
For a second, I imagine affection flares in his expression, but it’s brief. Shuttered again before I can understand. He holds out his hand. “Not everything has a price.”
I scoff. In the mafia world of secrets and lies, that’s just not true. If it were, I would have companionship and love that I’ve never had… Except I do. From one place and person in particular. ListeningToHer doesn’t put a price on their friendship with me. Even when occasionally my other fans are demanding, they’re always patient.
“It’s weird.” This whole talking about my videos out loud rather than tapping on my phone. “No one else knows about Rapunzel.” I’m used to keeping my recordings deniable, furtive. The idea of having someone else watching is disconcerting.
“It’s our secret.”
Nik can keep his word. Somehow, I know that, deep in my gut. I cross the gap towards him. My thumb brushes over his wrist as I pass him the phone and I think he doesn’t notice, or that he isn’t affected by the sparks that the touch causes because he’s observing me fixedly, no response.
“I like for the sea’s horizon—” I begin to explain how I frame my shots.
“I know.”
He says it so confidently, I can’t help but obey. The sunlight gleams off his black hair, highlighting it gold. He shakes his head, and a lock of hair falls almost over his eye, and I have the shocking urge to sweep it aside.
“You watched my videos?” I guess I thought he wouldn’t have bothered. He’s gorgeous and way older than me. Why would my little warbling attempts interest him?
One nod, then he gives a silent countdown with his fingers.
I panic, not ready as the red light indicates he’s started the video.
But the words come stronger than I expect, clearer. I look right at my new husband and sing about being free. Instead of looking into the camera as I usually do, I hold his gaze as I belt out the words. I thought it was a pointed remark to sing about freedom when it came into my head. But it doesn’t feel like that now. It’s almost like a thank-you.
Which is ridiculous.
He doesn’t watch the screen. The phone is forgotten and I’m singing for him, good chills going down by my back as we look at each other. He’s as compelled by me as I am by him.
I draw out the last note and desperately try to come up with something to say to my followers. I can’t. My whole mind is full of my husband.
“Hope you like the background for this one,” I say after a beat, my brain stuttering into life. ListeningToHer, my most loyal and kind fan, will like this one, I think. The thought makes me smile.
“I like this real beach more.” Nikolai passes me the phone and this time I’m careful to not allow our fingers to touch.
He’s the enemy and he killed my mother. I have to remember her words—that family is everything. Blood ties.
I turn away and collapse onto the warm sand, the sun on my back as I edit the video so I’m anonymous but cute. Out of the corner of my eye I watch my husband, calmly reclining nearby.
Then all of a sudden, like a fire is lit under him, he yanks his phone from his pocket, just as I begin to upload my video.
Weird.
It goes live and I sit with the phone in my lap, sharing my attention between the screen and the waves crashing and skidding over the rocks at the side of the beach, waiting for ListeningToHer. They always post a comment immediately, like they have an alert set up.
I wait. And wait.
My heart sinks as the minutes tick by.
“Huh.” They’re not listening, I guess. Maybe they’ve lost interest. My throat goes tight. Alone again. That little social media account has been my lifeline. That one relationship.
“What is it?” Nik asks.
“Oh nothing.” It has to be nothing. Gah. I’m so stupid.
