Page 77 of Bride By Coronation

A heavy silence falls between us.

I cut through it. "Let's assume you give me the benefit of the doubt on this topic. What else upsets you about me marrying your sister?"

He pins his eyebrows together, then looks away.

The hairs on my arms rise. I swallow down years of loathing and lower my voice. "Ah. I see. It's my scar, isn't it?"

He meets my gaze. In a sympathetic tone, he says, "I don't mean to be a prick, but you're not the type of guy my sister dates."

"I know."

He taps his empty tumbler again, continuing, "Don't you think it's cruel to subject her to marrying a man she'll never find attractive?"

Never.

She will never find me attractive.

His words slice through me like the knife that slid over my face and body. It's not a new realization, but hearing him say the truth out loud hurts more than I thought it would. I work my hardest to keep my neutral expression, and wait until I know my voice will come out strong before I confess, "Yes, it's cruel. However, I didn't pick her to marry me."

"You should consider yourself lucky they chose my sister for you!" he hurls, his face turning red as he lowers his foot to the floor.

I hold my hands in the air. "Calm down. I didn't mean it like that."

He breathes harder, scowling.

I let him cool off a bit, then continue, "I meant that I wouldn't have ever chosen to put her through this. I'm aware of my flaws, and understand I'll never be the type of man she would willingly want to marry. Yet here we are, in a situation where everyone does what the Omni wants or we all die. So are you holding my scar against me for the rest of our lives?"

He ponders my question and then replies, "No. I guess that's not fair." He shifts in his seat and admits, "I'm not mad about your scar. I'm pissed at myself for involving my sister in our mess."

"You and me both," I agree.

He nods. "We fucked up, didn't we?"

"I don't know. Do you regret that you and Zara are still alive?" I ask.

He scrubs his face. "No. Of course not. But we shouldn't have tried so hard to get our seat at the table."

I pour another glass of whiskey for him. "I disagree with you on that point."

"Why?"

"Your father wanted both you and Fiona at the table. It was important to him," I insist.

Sean shrugs. "I don't even see the point. I feel more powerless than ever since we took our seats. Zara does too."

I refill my tumbler. "My guess is you won't forever."

"Why? What's going to change?"

I take a drink, set it down, and lean closer. "I am king. Tonight, your sister becomes queen. Our debt will be cleared, and things will return to normal."

"What does normal even mean?" Sean asks.

I drink more vodka and rise. I go to the desk, hold my hand over the paper to shield it from cameras and write,You and I are going to clean house. The Underworld will be what your father meant it to be. I promise you.

I walk over to Sean and put it on his lap, strategically blocking the cameras.

He reads it and looks at me in question.

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