The Palace (Chateau 4)

She propped herself up and watched me go with disappointment in her eyes. She hated my actions. She hated my business. But she still loved me anyway. She still showed it in her eyes every time she looked at me.

That was how I knew this was real.

“Shower.” I leaned down and kissed her before I stepped into the bathroom. Warm water washed down my body, flashbacks entering my mind whenever I wasn’t actively doing something.

I remembered the way I’d killed my father.

Brutal. Cruel. Vengeful.

That was exactly how I would go someday.

My sins would catch up with me.

And then Chérie would have to live without me. Unprotected. Unhappy. Widowed.

I would never see her again—because I was going downstairs, and she was going upstairs.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Gilbert greeted me. “Magnus is here to see you.”

I scanned the bedroom, no sight of Melanie.

He read my look. “She’s speaking with him downstairs.”

I pulled on my sweatpants then made my way downstairs into the parlor.

Melanie sat across from him, the two in deep conversation.

I approached and looked down at Melanie, silently telling her to dismiss herself.

She read that look and excused herself.

I watched her walk away before I took the vacated spot and sat across from my brother. “My fiancée tells me her sister isn’t too happy about the news.” The hostility was out in the open, because yet again, that bitch was sabotaging my life.

Magnus wore a stoic expression, in jeans and a gray shirt, his hands together between his thighs. “Can you blame her?”

My eyes narrowed at the insult. “I’m richer than the devil, I’m good-looking, I granted her freedom. Yes. I can blame her.” I grabbed the glass of wine Gilbert had provided and took a drink.

My brother wasn’t as restrained as he usually was. He spoke his mind, like he had something important to say. “Raven isn’t impressed by money. And she doesn’t want her freedom.” Pride was noticeable not just in his eyes, but in the sound of his voice. “She wants to be with me wherever I go.”

I relaxed into the couch, my arm resting over the back with the wineglass still in my grasp. If he wanted to be proud of the loyalty he’d acquired from a woman no other man would want, that was his prerogative. Seconds of intense eye contact transpired before my eyes narrowed slightly. “Isn’t that romantic?” I brought the glass to my lips and took another drink. “If the bitch wants to work, let her.”

Magnus immediately turned angry. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” I knew what, but I asked anyway. Just needed to remind him that his woman was forever beneath mine.

“You know exactly what, Fender. I think Melanie is dumb as a dog, but you don’t hear me saying that.”

I didn’t appreciate the insult, but I didn’t respond to it because I was the one who’d made the first attack. It was pointless anyway, because he was wrong. They were both wrong about every assumption they made about Chérie. I returned the wineglass to the table. “Sounds like this is getting serious…”

He ignored my sarcasm and held my gaze.

I let the tension go. “I guess I’m gonna have to learn to tolerate her, aren’t I?”

“She’s more than tolerable.” That pride was back.

“I disagree. And I’ll always disagree.” We’d leave it at that.

After a tense silence, Magnus spoke. “When’s the wedding?”

“Whenever she gets a dress, I guess. We aren’t having a big ridiculous wedding. We’ll probably get married out on the lawn.”

“I expected you to throw a big party.”

Our wedding was just about us. No one else. I didn’t want to have to entertain guests with conversations I didn’t care about. I wanted all my attention on Chérie. “She doesn’t know any of those people. Prefers it just be us…and the two of you.”

He didn’t respond to the invitation.

“What do you want?” I grew impatient. “I assume you have something else in mind besides discussing my wedding?”

He leaned back into the couch with his knees apart, regarding me with a steely gaze. “It’s time to change things, Fender.” He didn’t specify, but he didn’t need to. It had always been a source of tension between us, and now with the girls in our lives, it came more frequently.

My gaze immediately turned cold. I’d just had to deal with this shit from Melanie a few nights ago, and now my brother came all the way to my residence just to mention it for the millionth time.

“Your fiancée used to be a prisoner there. Does that not change how you feel?”

I drank the wine. “I know I’ve made that up to her.”

“And what about the rest of the girls?” He was more aggressive than he used to be, like he wasn’t leaving that couch until he got what he wanted.

Never gonna happen. I released a low and drawn-out sigh, fighting to keep my patience with him. “We’ve discussed this before, Magnus. If there was another way, I would do it. There’s not.”