Page 144 of Sadistic

"It never felt like home. Too cold, too isolated." He pulls out his phone. "I've scheduled three house viewings for when we get back."

"You scheduled—" I stop, reminding myself he's trying. "What kind of houses?"

He turns the phone toward me. "This one's my favorite. Six bedrooms, five baths, modern design but warm. About 9,000 square feet."

"That's huge."

"Plenty of room for Dalla." He swipes to show more photos. "See? The east wing could be entirely hers. Private entrance, her own kitchen if she wants. Close enough that you're together but separate enough that we're not tripping over each other."

I stare at him. "You planned for my sister to live with us?"

"Where you go, she goes. I told you I understood that." He sets the phone down. "Rev, I know I've fucked up a lot, but I do listen. Sometimes."

"I... thank you." My throat feels tight. "That means more than you know."

"She's your person. I get that." He refills both our coffee cups. "Speaking of Dalla, my mother wants to talk to her about that internship."

"The fashion thing?"

"Mum's been in the business for thirty years. If Dalla's serious about switching careers, she could learn from the best." He pauses. "But only if she wants. No pressure."

"Since when do Volkolvs not pressure people?"

"Since I married a woman who threatens to leave when I do." His smile is rueful. "I'm trying to be better."

"I see that."

We eat in silence for a while.

The sun climbs higher, warming the balcony.

It feels surreal, sitting here having breakfast with my husband like we're a normal couple.

"There's something else," Doran says eventually. "Something I need to tell you about yesterday."

I set down my coffee. "What kind of something?"

"During the reception, I saw someone. Someone who shouldn't have been there."

"Who?"

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I'm learning means he's agitated. "My brother."

"I didn’t even know you had a brother."

"Olyvar." His jaw tightens. "He was supposed to be in Ireland. Has been for the last three years."

"Why didn't anyone mention him?"

"Because we don't speak. Haven't since..." He trails off.

"Since?"

"Since he tried to kill me."

I nearly choke on my croissant. "I'm sorry,what?"

"Family drama." He says it like it's normal. "Olyvar thought he should be the heir. Took exception to me being groomed for leadership. Decided the easiest solution was killing me."

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