Page 15 of Point of No Return

Damn him.

I don’t bother saying goodbye before I push off the counter and attempt to go back upstairs.

“Oskar Leonardo Benenati,” he says, stopping me. “I’m thirty. I’ve lived here my entire life. I have no hobbies, and I can cook breakfast.” He’s looking at me when I approach again, stopping a safe distance away so I don’t startle him. “Specifically,” he adds, and I crack a smile.

“Is it true you’ve been avoiding me like Aleks says?”

His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t back down this time. “Depends on what Aleks has told you.”

“That you don’t want a wife,” I answer honestly. “Among other things.”

He doesn’t disagree, I note.

“Is it true that Eva Orlova is as tough as they say?”

“Tougher,” I reply instantly. I have no doubt rumors surrounding my mother aren’t even a fraction of the truth. “Does Oskar Leonardo Benenati really have no hobbies?”

His sandwich is thoroughly gone and consumed now, and he wipes the crumbs from his hands before replying. “Don’t have the time.”

Based on the amount of time he spends at work and the number of board meetings scribbled into his calendar in his office, I doubt it’s a lie. But I shake my head. “He sounds boring,” I tease. “Are you a hard-ass like everyone says?”

“Yes,” he replies instantly, and the look on his face could kill joy if it ever had the courage to look him in the eye.

I can sense that he’s close to shutting down already, so I interject. “Anything else?”

His blue-gray eyes look over me curiously. In the lowlight, I’m sure he can spot the dark bags beneath my eyes or even the gauntness that my body is beginning to take on, but when his eyes stop on my tattoos, all sense of worry seems to dissipate. It’s replaced by what I can only guess is distaste.

Hate.

I don’t give him the chance to pose an insult. Turning toward the door, I’m surprised when he speaks. “We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night. Tyson will be there.”

Right back to business as usual. Perfect.

“Goodnight, Skar.”

He doesn’t bother saying it back.

Chapter Nine

Charlotte

I’ve never been to the races before, but I know that the crowd is always full of Westos’ finest. My father usually made it a point to attend the Autumnal and Winter racing season, but I never went with him. If only because I’m not prepared, I regret not going with him before.

Josie left a dress out on the bed for me, and after dressing, I’m greeted downstairs by both my fiancé and his brother. Aleks, at least, has the decency to smile, greeting me with a kiss to either cheek. My fiancé, however, doesn’t hide his frown as he glances down at his watch. He merely shoves his hands in his pockets as he directs us toward the car.

Aleks and I chat on the long drive over. He’s an easy-talker. Polite but flirty enough to keep things interesting. Despite Skar’s insistent silence, we joke and tease and the silence is never awkward. Whatever grudge Skar has against me, it’s not one his brother seems to share.

It’s already dark outside by the time the passing trees dissipate into the flatlands. Through the front window, I see three towers rise up from the horizon, shining like starlight.

Guards motion our car past a gated entry, and we easily pass through a security checkpoint. I watch in awe as we crawl closer and closer to the towers. They’re connected at the base by a dome-like structure which looks like it’s made of reflective black glass.

I’m not sure when the car stops or when I step out into the dark night air. Aleks is a few yards ahead of us, somehow already having plucked a random brunette from the crowd that greets us. I’m only faintly aware of the fact that Skar’s hand hovers at the small of my back, guiding me through the throng of people toward the tower doors. People drink, gamble, lounge around, waiting for the races to begin.

Aleks and the brunette have disappeared, and Skar navigates us through another group of half-drunk patrons to get to an elevator. I’m surprised to find the inside empty. The doors close behind us, and Skar swipes a card across the surface and thumbs a button for the top floor. When the car lurches upward, I press myself into the furthest corner of it in an attempt to keep my food down. But the feeling settles, and I sigh.

His presence is heavy, and my skin prickles with awareness as he casually leans back, staring forward with a frown. I’m glad, at least, that neither of us feels the need to speak and fill the void.

It isn’t until we’re nearly to the top that Skar stands upright. A green light flashes when he swipes the card across the elevator’s keypad and the doors open. Music drifts in toward us, the notes soft, and a large balcony melts into view. Complete with a few lazing party guests, there’s enough food spread out to feed a small country.

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