Page 58 of Sweet Lies

“None of your concern. It’s a family matter,” my darling brother answers, turning back toward me, dismissing Andre.

To Andre’s credit, he stays longer than most men would, given Elijah’s tone.

“What’s your master plan?” he asks, pulling a chair that had been against the wall forward.

“What makes you so sure I have one?”

“Because you’re my blood, and you wouldn’t have started this if you didn’t have an endgame.” His confidence is as annoying as ever.

“Maybe I just wanted you dead,” I hiss.

“If you’d wanted me dead, you would have aimed better. No. You wanted to make us take notice. You got my attention, now speak,” he orders as if I was a child.

“You don’t get to give me orders,” I spit. I feel like a child again, and it’s pissing me off.

“You’re the one tied to a seat while I’m free to leave at any point. That gives me the upper hand.”

I hate that he’s right. I’m in a shit position and I’m smart enough to know that.

He leans back in his seat. “Why did you do it? Why now? If you knew where we were, why not just make yourself known? Why waste time apart when we could have been a family again?”

The bitter laugh escapes before I can catch it. “Family? What family? You left me behind like you always did. It was always you and Claire. You never needed me.”

For a moment, hurt crosses his features before his expression hardens to stone. “We’ve thought about you every day since the attack. Claire named her daughter after you. How can you say we didn’t care?”

“You left me in hell,” I yell. “And you mean the daughter she had with Mike—no, I mean Alex.” I laugh, feeling insane that this is where my life has led. I should have left everything as it was and damned Sebastian to hell with the rest of his family.

“When did you find out we were alive?” he demands, flying from his seat unexpectedly. His face is an inch from my own.

My body flinches at the unexpected action, and I hate myself for the weakness. My brain freezes in fear as it tries to calculate what will happen next. All that time I spent working on controlling myself seems to have been for nothing.

“E,” I rush out, hoping he steps away.

Instead, he sees my weakness and does what he does best—pushes for information.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell us?”

My eyes shut tightly at his words and tone, and I try to calm my mind.

When I open my eyes, he’s being ripped away. Both Elijah and I are stunned by Andre’s appearance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Elijah demands.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Andre snaps back.

“I’m trying to get answers. This is our pleasant discussion—the next conversation won’t be this civil, sister or not. She shot me—that makes her the enemy. What concern is it of yours?” he asks, shoving him away.

Closing my eyes again, I try to block out the memories of the men’s faces that flood my mind. Their hands gripping my body. I should never have left the safety I found at the gambling hall.

I force myself to open my eyes and calm my breathing. Now isn’t the time for weakness. Elijah can’t see it, and I can’t allow it. I am the master of my emotions, no one else. They don’t have a hold over me.

Thankfully both Andre and Elijah are too distracted with each other to notice my moment of vulnerability.

“You want your answer, darling brother, I’ll give you one.”

Both pairs of eyes swing in my direction.

“There was a hit out on you. You must have pissed someone off because they were offering a lot of money to have your head over their mantel. I knew you were alive and the name you’d taken. But the money was nothing compared to seeing your face when you opened the door.”

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