Page 5 of Scornful

For a moment, I consider telling him everything—about Laken's constant criticism, the way he made me feel worthless, the nights I spent weighing every bite I took under his watchful gaze.

He always made me feel like being curvy was something I needed to fix, like it was wrong.

I hate the way I still hear his voice in my head, still feel him breaking me down, bit by bit.

So, why do I always go back?

Because I’m a fool, he’s my first love, I know he’s capable of being better—but he won’t. That’s what I need to convince myself—he won’t.

It's one thing for the women to know about my situation—they understand in a way the men never could.

But the brothers?

They'd see it as weakness, or worse, as an insult to my father's position.

The VP's daughter, letting some outsider break her down? Unthinkable.

"I appreciate the concern," I say finally, my voice cool, "but I handled it."

He studies me for a long moment, then nods once, respecting my boundaries even if he doesn't believe me. "If you ever need anything?—"

"I won't." I cut him off, already regretting the harshness in my tone. "But...thanks," I add more softly.

Before he can respond, a commotion near the door draws our attention.

Rio has arrived with little Florencia in his arms, the toddler's eyes wide at the noise and lights of the clubhouse.

Several women immediately swoop in, cooing over the child, offering Rio drinks, food, support.

This is how the club heals—together, becoming the family that fills the gaps death leaves behind.

"I should go help with Florencia," I say, already moving away from Geirolf and the dangerous feelings he stirs. "Dasha and I promised to watch her and Cali while Rio gets a break."

Geirolf nods, letting me walk off, but as I do, I feel his eyes on me.

"Astrid," he calls, and I pause, half-turning. "You're stronger than you think."

Four simple words, but they land in my chest like stones dropped in still water, rippling outward.

I give him a small nod and continue on, not trusting myself to respond.

As I cross to where Rio stands with Florencia, I catch my father watching me.

A warning prickles up my spine—nothing good could come from whatever's brewing between Geirolf and me, nothing but trouble.

But as I take Florencia from Rio's arms, feeling the toddler's warm weight against my chest, I can't help but glance back at Geirolf.

He's already turned away, headed toward my father and Runes, confident as ever.

I force my attention back to Florencia, tickling her until she giggles—a sound too rare since her mother's death.

Meanwhile, Dasha has Cali—the sweet baby starting to smile the moment she sees her.

But part of me is hyper focused on Geirolf—his presence across the room.

It’s like a compass needle finding north, that is how I feel when it comes to him, and I can’t, because that would be a fucking disaster.

CHAPTER ONE

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