Page 42 of Cruel Heir

“I can’t believe we fell asleep here.” I look at him as he slips out of me, his hand still resting on my hip, and I realize with shock that he looks as if he’s trying not to laugh.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he murmurs, and a chuckle slips out as he brushes my hair away from my face. For a moment, I feel as if I’m trapped in this bubble of intimacy with him again, his lips twitching with laughter as he looks down at us, still naked on the rug where wefell asleep and the remains of our dessert still on the table behind us. “Perfectly good beds upstairs, and we fell asleep on the floor.”

“We shouldn’t let it happen again.” Itryto say it seriously, to let him know that I mean it, that thiscan’thappen again. I can’t let myself feel closer to him. But he’s still on the verge of laughter, and it spills over to me, until I’m starting to giggle. He starts to laugh, too, both of us still tangled together on the rug, the last of the fire dying as Andre presses his mouth against my shoulder.

Finally, he helps me up, getting me to my feet. He scoops my dress off of the floor, helping me back into it, and then collects his clothes. “I have meetings today,” he says, regarding me with an expression that looks as if he doesn’t entirely know how to handle what’s happening between us right now. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Alright.” I’m acutely aware of the heat of his cum on my thighs, of the fact that Idon’tfeel the need to rush upstairs and clean him off of me. I tell myself that it’s because of the birth control, because I don’t need to fear him getting me pregnant, and my stomach clenches as I look at him.If he knew, all this gentleness would be gone.“I’ll see you tonight.”

I feel his eyes on me as I turn to leave. Whether I like it or not, we’re closer to each other now than we were before. And I feel as if I’ve seen a different side to him. One that I think I might wish I hadn’t.

It was easier when he was nothing but a villain. When he was cruel and one-dimensional, when that was all I’d ever seen of him. When it was impossible to imagine a life together.

Now, it’s become so much more complicated.

13

LUCIA

Two days later, Celeste slips into the yoga room as I’m coming out of a warrior pose, her face paler than I’ve seen it in a long time. Her hair is coming loose from its normally neat bun, and she motions to me, her eyes wide.

I pad over to her, leaving my yoga mat. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Celeste nods. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispers, her voice low enough that I can barely hear her under the soft strains of the music I’d put on. “Hurry.”

For a moment, I think that she’s going to tell me that something happened to Andre. I should feel a spark of hope at that—and Ido, a small one—but it’s tangled up with what also feels like a flicker of fear. I squash it as quickly as I can, telling myself that if it’s Andre, it only means it will be easier for me to go back home.

Andre and I haven’t fallen asleep together again. I’ve made sure to get up and go back to my room both nights since what happened by the fire, and he hasn’t stopped me. It’s made it easier to frame it in my mind as a mistake. Something that I won’t allow to happen again.

As soon as we’re safely in my bedroom, Celeste turns to me. “Yourfather has a message for you,” she says quietly. “He sent it to the same person that I used to get yours out to him.”

“What?” I stare at her in shock for a moment, unable to fully process what she’s said. “My father—”

“He said to be patient.” Celeste is speaking so quickly that she sounds almost breathless, her voice a whisper. “That he’s aware of where you are and is working on bringing you home. He asked you to trust him and to not do anything rash.”

I nod, sinking my teeth into my lip as I feel hot tears burn behind my eyes. “Anything else?” I manage, and Celeste shakes her head.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get you more pills before next month,” she says quietly in that same low whisper. “Andre has tightened restrictions on how often we go out. I’ve made up an excuse for going to that estate—that I’m seeing someone there, but it won’t work forever. I can’t even promise that it’ll work very much longer.” She lets out a breath. “Just be patient, and I’m sure your father will get to you.”

I nod, sinking down onto the side of the bed. “I’ll try,” I whisper.

“I’ll go get you some lunch.” Celeste looks at me once more, slipping out of the room as I press a hand to my mouth.

Of all the things I’d imagined, I would feel if my father finally managed to get a message to me,conflictedwasn’t one of them.I could give the message to Andre,I think, and the moment it flashes into my head, I’m horrified with myself.What if that could convince him to give up on his plans? What if just having me would be enough?

“You’re losing your mind,” I say aloud to myself in the empty room, standing up abruptly and stripping off my yoga clothes as I stride to the shower. I can’t believe that I’m considering it.Just because you spent one nice night together doesn’t mean anything’s changed.But for the first time, when I think of leaving Andre behind, I feel a pang in my chest.

If things were different, if he were the husband my father had chosen for me, we might have eventually been happy together. We’re not unalike in a number of ways; I’m seeing that now.But things aren’t different,I remind myself as I step into the shower. They are exactlythe way they are. Andre kidnapped me, forced me into an unwanted marriage, and took my virginity. Shared hobbies and a night of gentleness doesn’t fix that. It doesn’t change it. Flowers can’t erase it all.Nothingcan change it. I cling to that, scrubbing myself almost violently as I try to wash away the feelings, as if I can clean myself from the inside.

I’d planned on spending the day alone. I change into black leggings and a long tunic-style cashmere sweater, throwing my wet hair atop my head, and head into the library. There’s a fire burning, and it feels cozy and safe as I start to look through the shelves for something I might want to read—as safe as anywhere in this house can feel, anyway. The worst part is that there’s nowhere I can escape my confused and racing thoughts, the memory of my first nights here with Andre warring with the recent memories of how things feel as if they’ve begun to change. I feel like I can’t focus on anything, and it’s almost a relief when I hear a knock at the door.

Celeste steps in, and I glance over at her, surprised. I rarely see her in the middle of the day. After the news she delivered to me this morning, I instantly feel a spark of fear. “Did something else happen?” I ask, hearing the way my voice rises as I turn away from the bookshelf.

“No, everything is fine,” Celeste says quickly. “But you have some visitors. I believe Don Leone had mentioned that you might be having—guests.”

Shit.I remember that he’d said something about the wives of the dons he’d allied with coming to visit. I’d completely forgotten about it. I don’t feel capable of making small talk with strangers in the slightest right now, but I also know that I don’t have much of a choice. If I turn them away, Andre will be furious with me.

Regardless of what I feel or not, we have a tentative peace at the moment. I’d be a fool to break that because I want to be left alone.

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