Page 101 of Goldsin

“Everything’s under control.”

She gives me a soft nod before tracing her fingertips over the scratches on my chest. “Make sure to keep an eye on her tonight, Julian. You know how these parties can turn out to be.”

Her words make me pause. A nod is all I manage.

Mom reaches up and brushes a stray hair away from my face, the action igniting her radiant smile. “She’s so lucky to have you,” she says tenderly.

Her words feel like a stab to the heart. The meaning behind them is crystal-clear. Not only that, but the longing shining in her eyes for something better—something Lucian could never give her—is enough to let me know she wishes she was as lucky as me and Aurelia in her marriage.

She wishes her husband wasn’t the abusive piece of shit he is.

I grab her hand and give it a squeeze, letting her know she has me too.

“Who’s so lucky to have him?” Adrian appears in the kitchen, heading straight for the plate of tuna canapés.

“Don’t.” Mom slaps his hand away. The soft expression that was on her face seconds ago is now replaced by something sterner. “Instead of eating the guests’ food, why don’t you give us a hand? There’s still plenty to do before the party starts.”

She doesn’t wait for him to answer, because she isn’t asking. She’s demanding.

I watch her go, her small figure retreating to scold the maids, leaving behind a silent Adrian, who just stares after her.

My mother has never shared the same warmth with Adrian as she does with me. She never was the same mother to him. And I know it’s because she resents him for all the times he never stepped up to protect her. Instead he let her battle with Lucian’s wrath on her own.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks when he turns back to me, gaze sweeping over the scratches on my chest.

I smirk. “Shouldn’t you recognize the pattern?”

He narrows his eyes, waiting to hear more.

“I would have bet you’d be able to recognize the way she scratches when you make her come ... or maybe you never got that far.”

“You’re fucking her?” There’s a storm looming in his glacial glare.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I take a sip from the mug.

He groans, elbows resting on the table as he drops his head between his shoulders. “One thing, Julian. Stay away from her. You couldn’t even do that?”

I fucking lose it.

As I slam the mug on the counter, it shatters into millions of pieces.

“I did as you said. I stayed away from her for ten years!” I fume.

Ten. Years.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

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