CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
“Love never dies a natural death.”
~Anaïs Nin
PRESENT
I was in the kitchen, rummaging around for coffee like an irritated bear looking for honey when a now dressed Bastian joined me.
He still looked pretty freaking edible. Leo was a crappy as hell father, but he sure made good-looking sons. The Durant men were all of a size, uncommonly tall with straight, broad shoulders. Bastian was dark where Dante was golden, but they still shared a certain look, something sinister around the eyes, with pretty mouths and straight, sharp teeth. Starkly handsome but villainous.
It was my own personal kryptonite.
“Hey,” I greeted him, tone bordering on friendly, because he was maybe the only person in this entire house that I didn’t despise.
“Hey there,” he returned, tone and smile beyond friendly into outright warm.
My body was facing the coffeemaker, hips leaning against the counter as I waited for the coffee pot to fill.
I was serious about my coffee, especially the first cup of the day. I’d basically been watching the pot filling drop by drop, mug ready to pounce the second it finished.
Bastian was clearly a coffee enthusiast himself, joining me right there, actually exactly right there. He didn’t even find his own space, instead he invaded mine, pressing himself against my back as he reached above me for a coffee cup.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he murmured into my ear, “but it felt ruder not to mention it—you’ve got a world class rack. It’s going to be hard for me to forget about it.”
“Well, Bastian, while we’re not being rude I guess I’ll mention that you looked pretty outstanding without your clothes on.”
“You didn’t even get to see the best part.”
“Regrettable,” I remarked, because flirting with hot guys was in my DNA, even if they were blood related to the hate of my life.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “You trying to get Dante to kill you?”
“He can try. Besides, you guys aren’t actually back together, are you?”
“Hell no, but you’re thinking of it reasonably. Try to think of it from the mind of a Dante.”
“I see your point. Something’s always confused me though. With the way he so obviously feels about you, the way you feel about each other, why did you break up in the first place?”
What happens when two people of terrible pride fall for each other?
Terrible things.
Destruction. Chaos. Pain. Sorrow.
War.
“You’d have to ask him,” I finally responded. “It was his idea.”
“Well, he’s a fool then. Want to know who isn’t a fool?”
I was outright grinning at him over my shoulder. “Do you want me to guess or are you going to tell me?”
With a boyish smile, he pointed at himself. “This guy.”
The coffee was finished, and I poured us both a cup. “Good to know,” I said, turning and handing him his.
His smile died suddenly and he glanced around as though making sure we were alone. “Seriously though, I wanted to ask you about something that’s been bothering me for a while.”
I shrugged. “Go for it.” Worst case scenario, if I didn’t like the question I wouldn’t answer it.
“Have you ever wondered why Leo and Adelaide never got divorced?”
I shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”
“They despise each other.”
“Yeah. They seem like a perfect match. They’re both pretty easy to despise.”
“True. But I’m starting to get the distinct impression that things are even more messed up than they appear. I think Adelaide has something bad on Leo. I think she’s blackmailing him and has been for a very long time.”
Was I surprised? No. Was I disgusted? Yes.
“Nothing that woman could do would surprise me,” was my response, “but I don’t know one way or the other. Why did you think I would? Adelaide hates me more than anyone. I’d hardly be the one she’d tell her dirty secrets to.”
He shrugged. “I figured it was a long shot, but you’re one of the few people associated with this crazy family that might actually tell me the truth. I thought maybe if Dante knew something that he might have confided in you at some point. Because you know he’d never tell me anything.”
“He never gave you a fair shot,” I said absently, my mind on Adelaide and blackmail. That woman was capable of anything.
It was terrifying.
“He didn’t, but there’s still time. Maybe I’ll grow on him. And I get it. All he ever wanted was our father’s approval, and being the firstborn and legitimate it must have felt particularly demoralizing to be treated the way he was. What he’s never understood is that our father only sees our mothers when he looks at his sons. We get treated, loved or loathed, based on whatever connection he had with the women he impregnated.”
I thought about that, and it added up perfectly. It was so horribly simple for something that had brought so much sadness to a young Dante. “And he loathes his wife,” I murmured.
He nodded.
“You’re a good guy, Bastian. I hope someday you and Dante can find some middle ground.”
He smiled but it was weaker than his other efforts. “I keep hoping.”
“It’s strange that your father never had any daughters,” I added, watching his face.
“There’s always that rumor that Durants only have boys.”
I knew firsthand that rumor was absolute rubbish, but I nodded. “There is that,” I said evenly.
“But that’s only a rumor. I think my dad probably has at least a few daughters. He just never bothered claiming the girls.” He saw my face and his mouth twisted. “I know. Believe me, I know. My dad is a piece of shit. What can I say? You don’t get to pick your father.”
“What’s with this cozy fucking scene?” a familiar voice boomed from the doorway of the kitchen.
Bastian and I had been huddled close together. It was completely innocent. Well mostly. We just hadn’t wanted to be overheard. But at the sound of Dante’s voice we sort of jumped apart guiltily, which didn’t look innocent at all.
Because I liked Bastian, in fact, I liked him more the longer I spoke to him, I set down my coffee and moved forward as Dante did, intercepting him before he got close to his brother.
I pushed into his chest, getting his immediate angry attention for myself.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” he raged, pointing a finger at his brother. “You’ve still got a whole night’s worth of my fucking cum inside of you and you’re already, what the fuck was that, rubbing up against my brother?”
My brows shot up. Wow. He’d gone full out crazy without much provocation. Bastian and I hadn’t even been touching when he walked in. Had it looked like we had? I tried to picture the angle he might have seen as I said, “Calm down. We were talking and you’re acting like a nutjob.”
For that he pointed his furious eyes at Bastian. “I’ll show you a fucking nutjob. She is off limits. Do you fucking hear me, brother?”
Bastian looked completely unfazed, which somehow just made me like him more. “I’m well aware of how you feel about her, brother,” he shot back, holding his coffee mug in both hands like he sensed no threat at all.
I pushed at Dante’s chest. He didn’t budge but that hadn’t been the point. Getting his attention back to me had been, and it worked. He turned his gaze on me, and I could tell he was about to lose it. “You need to take a walk, Dante. Walk away. Remember your anger management steps.”
He didn’t like that, but he responded to it, backing away and glaring at me.
When he was gone, I retrieved my coffee. It wasn’t hot enough anymore, so in silence I poured it out and fixed another.
“It never made sense to me, the way it went down with you two,” Bastian said quietly.
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him as I shrugged. “Didn’t make much sense to me, either. Well, anyway, nice chat. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah. Take care, Scarlett, okay?”
“I always do, not that it helps me a damn bit. You take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
I started to leave, taking my mug with me.
I was at the doorway when he spoke again. “Will you do me a favor?” he called out.
I stopped and looked at him. “Sure,” I said lightly before I even knew what it was. I must have trusted him. That wasn’t like me.
“Ask Dante sometime, if you can, what he thinks about his mother and blackmail,” he said, his voice so intense that I found myself staring at him. Was he referring to Adelaide and his father, or something else? I couldn’t tell, but the words he was saying felt directed at me very pointedly.
I kept steady eye contact with him when I answered, “I’ll do that.”
“Good. Very good. Keep me posted.”