Page 60 of Twisted (Never After)
Pulling on the seat belt, I drag it across the front of her body, the backs of my knuckles ghosting against her breasts as I buckle her in, then move back to my own seat, gripping the steering wheel so I don’t do something completely out of character like grab her face and shove my tongue in her mouth.
She clears her throat. “Thank you.”
I don’t respond, my teeth grinding as I stare out the front windshield and drive onto the streets.
“We’re really going to see my father?”
I nod, a tendril of worry creeping up my spine when I remember how long it’s been since I’ve even spoken with him. “Have you talked to him?”
Her body slumps against the passenger door, her eyes glazing over as she stares out the window. “No, he hasn’t answered his phone. But I’ve talked to his nurse. She said he’s been sleeping a lot. And she’s upped his pain reliever to keep him comfortable, so he’s been groggy.”
We come to a red light, and I take the opportunity to glance over, unable to ignore the melancholy bleeding from her features. It fills up the car and wraps itself around me, trying to drag me into its depth, but I won’t let it. The last thing I need is to show weakness in front of the enemy. And even though lately Yasmin doesn’t feel like it, that’s what she still is. The enemy.
The one person who is standing in the way of what I want most.
So it doesn’t matter that I empathize, just the slightest bit, with her sadness over losing her father. I won’tletit matter.
“He doesn’t like to have me around when he feels so weak,” she blurts out.
It doesn’t surprise me. Ali’s always been a proud man, making sure he presents only the best version of himself in every aspect. It’s something that I’ve always respected, revered even. Something I molded my own image around based on seeing him do the same.
There’s a strange feeling inside my chest, making me want to say something to ease the hurt on her face, but I tamp it down, staying silent instead until we drive through the security at the estate’s entrance and stop in the front circle drive right by the gaudy fountain.
I throw the car in park and am walking around and opening her door to offer her my hand before she can even unbuckle her belt, and when she slips her palm in mine, allowing me to pull her from her seat, my stomach flips.
She glances at me from under her lashes, a curious gleam coasting through her bright eyes. And she keeps stealing glances as we walk up the front steps together, our hands still entwined, my thumb rubbing against her wedding band.
“Put on a good show and I’ll bring back the boy,” I offer when we reach the door.
She exhales, staring at me with wide eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
She lets out a sound, her hand flying up to her mouth to cover the noise. “So he’s okay?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” I tilt my head.
“He’s been quiet, and I just thought…” She shakes her head. “Never mind. I’m glad you haven’t hurt him.”
I play with the underside of her ring, my chest tightening from the look on her face. I don’t enjoy the way she’s making me feel bad for her, like I should care. Like I should try to make it better.
It’s annoying, feeling like I need to be responsible for someone else’s emotions. I’m still trying to break free from my mother’s hold; the last thing I need is to add someone else to the mix.
My grip on her fingers tightens. “I told you that your time with me didn’t need to be miserable. There’s only one thing I want from you, and that’s you to bemywife in public. I don’t care if in private, you become his whore.”
The grateful look on her face drops and she rips her hand away, scoffing. “Fuck.You.”
Then she opens the door and walks inside, her footsteps strong and furious as she marches down the hall to find her father.
Chapter21
Yasmin
Julian and I walk through the front entrance and I’m stewing. Again. I don’t know why I even tried to have a civil conversation with him.
“Put on a happy face, gattina,or I’ll give you something to really cry about.”
I glare over at him, wishing I could find the nearest sharp object and use it to stab him.
