Page 19 of Vicious Heir

“She left fast,” I say lightly, trying to smile. “Did I scare her off?”

“I think she used you as an excuse to get out of an uncomfortable conversation.” He leans forward and plucks up some tea. The contrast between this violent, terrifying man and that little porcelain cup is almost comical. “But it’s good that we’re meeting. Bianca would’ve killed me if we didn’t.”

“Bianca?” My eyebrows raise.

“She’s my sister. She’s planning our wedding.”

“Oh. You have a sister.” I squirm slightly under his gaze. It’s incredible how much wedon’tknow about each other.

And how much we do.

Though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“And you have a brother. Pierre, right?”

“That’s right. He’s not home, though. Probably off at work, like always.”

“Are you two close?”

I tilt my head side to side and make a face. “Not really. What about you and your sister?”

“We have a good relationship.”

“Great. That’s good.” I smile at him, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. He gives me absolutely nothing—only stares and broods. Whatever he was talking about with Grandmother left him in a rotten mood.

“Colors,” he says suddenly.

It takes me off guard. “Sorry? What?”

“Colors,” he repeats and glares at his tea. “For the wedding. Do you have a preference?”

“Uh—” I’m totally caught off guard. “Anything but peach.”

His lips press together. “Why peach?”

“Ihatepeaches. Honestly, it’s just the first color that came to mind.” I laugh, totally dying inside. Why is this so strained? The first time we met, sparks practically sizzled in the air around us. But this is like getting stabbed in the face over and over.

“No peach then. What about flowers?”

“No strong preference.”

“I wouldn’t let my sister make too many decisions if I were you.” The barest hint of a smile. He really must be close with her. “Bianca’s something of a control freak.”

“It’s okay, really. I mean, we’re just—” I hesitate, waving a hand in the air. “You know, entering an arrangement.”

“That’s true,” he says, the weight of his gaze like a brick on my chest. “But it’s still your wedding. I want you to enjoy it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” He takes another sip of his tea and stands. I sigh with relief and stand with him. “I won’t take up more of your time, Lucy.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

We leave the room together, pausing only when we get very close to each other as we pass through the door. Adriano’s so big, just like I remember, and there’s that smell again. Sandalwood, honey, and whiskey. A very, very nice scent. It makes me think of him fucking me, looking into my eyes, calling me a needy slut.

The man from that night couldn’t be more different from the man here today. Right now, Adriano seems stiff and formal. But that night?

He was a beast. A monster. He destroyed me in all the best ways.

---