Page 48 of For the Gods' Sake

“It’s lovely to see you, darling,” she said with a bright smile on her face, her skin pulling taut across her regal, high cheekbones.

“Hi, Mom,” I greeted, falling into her hug with heavy limbs. She held me tight to her chest.

Too tight, I realized. I pulled back, looking at her in confirmation.

“What did he do?” I asked quietly.

My mother sighed, a heavy release of breath. “He did it without my knowledge, or I would have stopped him.”

I carefully placed the flowers in her hand, then stepped around to see what my father did to punish me.

Sitting at our outdoor table, drinking out of a ridiculously small espresso cup, sat my ex-boyfriend, chumming it up with my father like they were old friends.

I approached the table with a straight back, heading right for the chair next to my mother. As far away from him as I could get.

My brother, to his credit, shot me an apologetic glance as I sat down wordlessly. Then he leaned over to me and whispered, “Thanks for jacking one of my security guards, by the way.”

Titus—my own head of security who hadn’t stopped badgering me about Adrian since he read the note that arrived with the dress and flowers—told me over breakfast that he’d received word from Lilah Ares that they were pulling someone from my brother’s detail to mine.

I had feigned unawareness, only saying that I thought it was smart. Then adding that Adrian would be happy—not entirely insincere.

I tapped my hand on my brother’s knee. “You’ll survive.”

Leonardo pulled back with a fraternal smile, then returned his attention to his coffee.

The other member of our little breakfast, my cousin Renato, was as crass as ever, snickering under his breath when the table went silent.

“Damon,” I greeted with a sterile dip of my chin, keeping an easy smile on my lips. The last thing I would give him was an emotional response. My chest might be tight with anxiety, my nerves kicking off while I faced him for the first time in months, but I’d deal with that on my own. In private, with my friends. He didn’t deserve to see any of it.

Not after what he did.

“Reyna,” Damon said, leaning back in his chair like he owned it. “You look lovely.”

I took the compliment in stride, turning to my father. “Hi, Dad.”

“Daughter,” he said, taking a long sip of his cappuccino. Both his words and his actions were a reminder of our relationship. I was very much his daughter, taking after him in routine and our less than perfect traits.

Stubbornness chief among them. Which was why I turned my attention to my own coffee, the level of milk foam an exact match for his. The amount of sugar I added, the turns of my spoon, mirroring his own.

My mother returned to her seat with the vase of flowers, positioning them in the middle of the table in between towering plates of food. I reached over and placed an expertly spiced pastry on my plate, along with some fruit.

And after another handful of minutes passed, the only sound my mother’s low murmurs to my brother, I leaned over the table and reached for the pitcher of mimosas. I poured myself a heavier glass this time, resigned to drink and stare at the view if no one wanted to speak to me.

“Reyna, it’s not even noon,” my father chastised, crossing his tanned and hair-dusted arms over his chest.

“It was on the table,” I said back, keeping my voice level. “I’m just taking advantage of it.”

“Tone,” my mother said softly under her breath.

I forced a deep exhale, reminding myself to stay calm. This was the issue I ran in with my family. They’d say something on the wrong side of invasive or chastising and when I defended myself, all of the suddenIwas the one with an attitude that interrupted an otherwise peaceful family gathering.

The moment was cut by the arrival of our family’s personal chef, Alice. She was a lovely woman in her seventies that had been a friend of my late grandmother. She walked out onto the back deck, four plates balancing on her arms with expert precision.

“Leonardo, dear,” she said to my brother. “Go grabyour own plate and give my arms a rest.”

A moment later, she looked at Damon. “Right,” she said, “We had a last minute addition. Grab yours too, boy.”

Damon got up with a disgruntled groan, but didn’t say anything.

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