Page 50 of The Masks We Burn

Amora’s father either doesn’t care or can’t stop the wide grin stretching across his face. He looks between Amora and me a few times before I turn to look at the woman next to me.

Her mouth is slightly parted, her brows narrow as if I’ve upset her, but a sheen in her eyes speaks to the protector inside of me. The one my mom and dad crafted with patience and diligence.

And Amora is mine to protect, even if only temporarily.

“William, I’m not sure my daughter has told you, but she’s assured me…” her mother trails off, glaring at Amora with poison in her gaze. I lean in front of Amora, turning to shield her from the venom spilling from her mom’s words.

The fire always prevalent in my girl is nonexistent, suffocated by a story I haven’t heard. Her eyes fail to reach mine as she shakes her head. “Let it go. Please.”

I don’t know her reasoning for needing a fiancé, but whatever the case, her mother seems to have just threatened her side of their bargain. Still, I can’t let Amora think she’s anything less than everything. Because she is, and she needs to know that.

I hook a finger under her chin, forcing her to peer at me from behind a fan of dark lashes. “You’re a butterfly, Mora. You’re not meant to be caged.”

Suddenly done with the toxicity of her mother and the blatant neglect of her father, I rise, lifting Amora with me. “It was wonderful to finally meet you both, but we do have some wedding things to take care of for our friends. Mr. Orlov, I look forward to seeing you at my match tomorrow. Mrs. Orlov, thank you so much for your hospitality.”

Amora’s father nods while her mother says something, but I don’t quite catch what it is, as we are already turned and headed toward the exit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Icannot believe he just did that. Not only did he put my entire plan in jeopardy, hedefendedme. I don’t need anyone to fucking defend me. It only drives my mother’s point even further and is like one bigfuck youto everything I’ve been trying to prove to her.

Brushing away an angry tear that escaped, I lean against the passenger side door and stare out the window. William must see me fuming and thankfully leaves me alone.

Over this past month, he has slowly worked every fucking nerve in my body, which was how I preferred it, to be honest, because the first time we kissed, things changed. Not in life-altering ways, but I knew immediately it was different from my other typical hookups. Still, I thought it would be fine. Thought he would stay in his fucking lane, and everything would pan out in the end.

But no. He saw one sliver of my soft spot and decided he needed to go caveman and “protect” me.

I don’t need protection.

I don’t need saving.

All I wanted was a fake fiancé and maybe some good head.

I never wanted to jump from one prison to be locked in another.

Fucking asshole.

Just as we pull into the square, a light rain starts. A tightness pulls across my chest, my mouth going dry as I stare into the darkest spot of the cloud. When it’s parked, I waste no time letting myself dwell on the storm, and instead jump from the big ass truck and stomp straight to my front door, ignoring Will’s first attempt to get my attention.

But when I manage to unlock it, he’s right behind me, barging into the door and slamming it behind me.

“I know you heard me call your name. That’s rude as fuck to ignore me when I haven’t done—”

I whirl around, fury blazing in my eyes, and fire licking my spine. “Stop right there. When you haven’t done anything? You almost ruined everything!”

“How would I know that if you don’t fuckingtalkto me and tell me more specifics?”

Through all of our back and forth and sarcastic battles, this is the first time I’ve seen him angry. His dark brows furrow in the center, creating a profuse line in the middle of his forehead, and a thick vein protrudes from the side of his neck. But even with all that, his shoulders are relaxed, body steady. He’s yelling at me, but I feel safe. Why do I even notice something like that?

“Communicate with me, Amora. Tell me what the fuck is going on! I can’t be the only adult here.”

My face heats beyond anything comfortable as I narrow my eyes, jutting out a finger and pointing to his chest. “I’m choosing not to communicate with you because it’s none of your fucking business. We had a deal. And holding your end is all you needed to fucking do. Now you’ve shown my mom just how right her twisted thinking is. You went and defended me when I don’t need you to! Stay in your fucking lane!”

I spin on my heels and continue my stomping to my bedroom. I don’t even bother shutting the door and strip bare, entering the bathroom and starting my shower.

Communicate. Ha.

Why do I need to lay my every weakness on the table for him to just do what we agreed upon? So he can see every hole in my persona and use it against me? Use it to hurt me?

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