Page 25 of Eternal
He leans in a little, taping my forehead, “You’re going to give me a headache.”
I let out a quiet laugh, taking a sip from my wine glass, savoring the red liquid warming out my throat. I can’t stop drinking at all, because I’d feel weird being the only one with my glass of water, and I’d have to explain to them. But I never did. I never told them about what happened in that house.
“Youloveme,” I affirm.
Hand to his chest, the bastard pretends to be hurt and even shakes his head. “Don’t do me like that.”
Kat, sitting beside him, rolls her eyes. She can hardly hide her smile when she jumps in, saving me the effort. “Viktor, drop the cold act for once. It’s ridiculous. You’d die for us.”
He sure would.
And I’d die for them too.
Vik leans back, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalance, his smirk deepening and marking those dimples he wears so well. “I’m immune to feelings,sistra. Especially with brats like you andkroshka.”
She punches his shoulder, but he softly ruffles her hair, almost absentmindedly.
And I watch them. This small, tender gesture they don’t think twice about, the whole relationship that’s almost second nature.I was an older sister too.
I look away, swallowing down the ache pridefully, but it rises, pressing against my chest suffocating this whole facade I created. There are nights when I can almost feel my brother’s small hand on my shoulder, hear his baby laugh, which made me feel like I had a new purpose in this life even when I was a kid.
But that’s gone.
When I see these two, their bond, their love, the way they argue and laugh without a second thought, it’s like a knife, twisting a little deeper with each smile.
So, I smile back, playing along, keeping it light, though the tears are right there, hidden behind my face.
“So, what’s changed while I’ve been away?” My gaze flickers between them, searching their faces for any sign of something big.
Kat lifts her glass, glancing sideways at Vik before answering. “The Lebanese,” she says simply, almost like a secret. “They’ve joined forces with us now.”
That’s...unexpected. “The Lebanese? Since when?”
I always thought we’d be forever locked as rivals. I guess it’s been so long since I’ve let myself care about what happens here. Maybe too long.
Vik leans back, “Since the Huntress took charge,” he says, amused. “Turns out their new Emira is even more lethal than her father.”
The Huntress.
I’d heard of her, whispers and rumors mostly the last two years I’ve spent with the bratva and on missions. Her father’s strongest soldier.
They whisper about the Huntress because they’re afraid of her. In this world, fear is respect’s twin, and I know it better than anything. And I'm sure men know it too.
The day a woman claims her own power, they'll fear what she could do to what they created to fit only their categories.
Kat grins, tipping her glass toward me. “She’s impressive. You should’ve been here last year at the gala. She walked in, head held high, like she’d been running things her whole life. And they respected her. I wouldn’t mind meeting her again.”
I nod slowly, absorbing the news, picturing this new leader of the Lebanese. “Cheers to her,” I say looking around.
Vik’s gaze is on me, watching every change of my face, like he knows I’m running calculations in my head about everything around us.
I see it all, the warm and cozy light from the ornate chandeliers draws a long golden hue over the full, clean table,catching the silver of knives, and the head of the pistol subtly tucked under someone’s chair.
I take a sip of my wine, letting the rich taste settle on my tongue, and feel every sound around me as if it’s pulsing under my skin like my own blood. I can hear the laughter that’s a little too loud, threats hidden into half-sincere jokes,
I’m here and somewhere else entirely, mentally counting the exits, clocking the faces and names and rivalries, tracking every single movement, every piece on the board.
This isn’t paranoia, or maybe it is. Maybe that’s how I cope, but I’ll forever see it as being cautious.
