Volatile Love (The Gilded Sovereign 2)

The stupidity of a young boy, and the seduction of a woman who was barely old enough to have a son. She was a young mother. I remember how beautiful she was when she got all dolled up for parties at either our house or the Lancaster’s mansion.

But even now, as I look at her, I realize that my feelings have turned ugly. I hate her for what she did to me, but I can so easily kill her for what she did to my best friend.

“And what is it you’d like?” Ares questions her, folding his arms in front of his chest, making him look formidable.

“I just…” she shakes her head, walking into the room. She’s dressed in a sleek black pants suit. Her blouse is a soft pink, and her dark hair hangs down her back in a straight plait.

“You have no right to be here,” I tell her, recognizing the wince that creases her face at my words. But I don’t give a shit, she needs to know that she’s not welcome, and she never will be because this is our town. She chose to leave.

“I know I don’t, and I’ll happily leave again, but I need to see my son.”

“Your son? You’re suddenly so worried about him? After you left him to fend for himself?” My voice is barely audible as anger takes hold of my throat, squeezing it tightly, and I’m tempted to show her just how it feels. Her delicate neck would snap in my hand so easily.

Her gaze meets mine, deep blue, endless pools of emotion pierce me. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Everybody has a choice,” Ares tells her, the exact words I was about to bite out.

She nods, a solemn gesture, which I’m sure is just her playing into the hands of everyone in this room. I’ve seen her when she’s lying; I could sniff it out a mile away because I grew up with a mother who did the same. It’s as if they enjoyed toying with people, using other people’s sadness to their advantage. I’m not stupid. This is a ploy to get us to feel sorry for her, but it’s not going to work.

“I love my son,” she mutters, a soft whisper of pained lies.

“And yet you left him,” I remark. “You’re welcome to walk out now, because Tarian is no longer in need of a mother who didn’t want him. He has a family, here, with us.”

“Watch your tone, Durand,” Thane speaks from behind me, and all the while, my father sits watching the show. He’s as bad as Yasmine, leaving me to enjoy his time with a woman young enough to be his daughter.

“I’ll watch my tone the moment you and Yasmine walk out of our lives.” I’m vibrating rage. It’s a poison racing through me as I stalk toward the woman who took my innocence.

“What happened to you?” she questions, her tone sad and filled with something… guilt? No. Why would she feel guilty?

When she pins me with her blue eyes, I feel the ache in my chest. That feeling of how much I wanted to matter to someone. She gave me the sense of freedom, she offered me the affection I never got at home. And she made me feel like I was needed. And I let her do it.

But right now, there’s only one woman I want to make me feel that way, and she’s still asleep. I want to tell her how I feel, but fear has held me back. It’s been so long since I found someone who made my heart and mind twist with anticipation when I wasn’t around them.

The corner of my mouth lifts up, and I pin Yasmine with a glare that I’m certain will tell her all I want to say, without uttering a word. But I want to answer her, so I lean in, my mouth at her ear, and I notice how she shudders.

“You happened to me. You took a young boy, who needed the love of a mother, of a father, and you used it for your sick needs. And when you were done, you left me with emotions that were torn and frayed. You made me believe I was in fucking love with you.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Like fuck you didn’t mean. You were an adult; you knew what you were doing, and even though it was wrong, you did it anyway. You make me sick, you’re a vile, disgusting whore.”

Without waiting for a response, I stalk from the living room, needing to calm the fuck down. I can’t be near anyone right now. I want to be with Rukaiya, but I know if I do, I’ll hurt her by fucking her until she’s broken. Not because I want to, but I can’t think of anything other than tearing Yasmine’s heart out and pulling it from her chest.