Eros
The meeting with the freight company goes well. I head back into the house, feeling decent for the first time in days. I’m solving my shipping problem, I found the damn shoes, and Cara didn’t fight me about wearing the ring.
I feel good as I step into my room and spot her standing out on the balcony.
She’s wearing a black, lace cocktail dress with a modest neckline and a fitted waist that shows off her lovely curves. I stand and stare at her, heart racing with surprise as she holds the ring up to the dying evening light and watches it glitter. That’s my fiancee, and my guts twist with excitement, and my heart flutters in my chest, and I’m having a reaction I’ve never felt before-
It’s desire, but it’s also joy, pure and unbridled excitement. Cara looks incredible, absolutely fucking stunning, with understated makeup and her hair in a simple twist, and she’s wearing my ring.
Myring.
She turns and catches my eye-and grins at me.
That’s when I look down and notice the shoes.
The fucking sneakers.
And all my good feelings are gone just like that. Of course, she’s wearing a cocktail dress with those ratty old sneakers. I close my eyes, take a steadying breath, and open them again.
“Hello, future husband,” she says and gives me a twirl, making sure to shove her foot out so I can’t miss those fucking sneakers. “How do I look?”
“Like a zebra blissfully wandering into a lion’s den.” I turn and gesture for her to follow. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
She skips up to my side and takes my arm. I glare at her but don’t speak as I lead her through the halls, taking my time. I don’t trust myself to say anything right now, and I’m not sure she’d listen anyway.
She doesn’t know my family and has no clue what she’s getting into, but at least I invited Lycus to attend this little get-together. He doesn’t normally show up for family gatherings, but occasionally I’ll drag him along when I need to discuss business afterward.
In this case, I need him there as a buffer.
“Listen carefully,” I say as we pause outside of the dining room doors. “For the love of everything you hold dear, please follow my lead. Don’t engage anyone. They will make comments. Let it slide off you like water.”
“Who is they?” she asks, frowning at me.
“My Aunt Anissa and my cousin Sophia. Their uncle was the former lord of the Khazan family before I took over, and they still hold that transition against me. They are the enemies here.”
She nods slowly, staring at me with a serious expression, and I wonder how much she knows about how I took power. But now isn’t the time to go into that story.
“Who else is coming?”
“My sister, Helen. She’s almost as bad as Anissa and Sophia, but she’s on my side. And my mother, Dimitra.” I pause and take her hand in mine. “This will be fine. Don’t worry.”
I’m lying. It won’t be fine. But I need to say the words out loud or else I won’t believe them.
“I’m sure it will be,” she says and glances down at her shoes.
She must already regret her choice.
I push open the doors and we head inside. Lycus stands at the far end of the table speaking quietly with Helen. Sophia and Anissa sit together with my mother, the three of them talking over wine. The Khazan women all have a look: dark hair, dark eyes, intensely chiseled features. Sophia’s always been spoiled and bratty, and she’s wearing some high-end dress from some obscenely expensive Parisian designer, no doubt. Her mother, Anissa, is slightly less gaudy, but still decked out with designer jewelry.
Meanwhile, my mother wears all black, the same color she’s worn since my father passed all those years ago.
“There you are,” Helen says and comes walking over, practically beaming, staring right at Cara.
Everyone’s staring at Cara.
“Helen, meet Cara. My fiancee.”
Helen squeals and wraps her in a massive hug and the look my mother gives me could melt the flesh off bone. If I had a soul, I’d feel it shriveling up.
Good thing I let that ugly, blackened thing wither away a long time ago.
“Welcome to the family,” Helen says, grinning huge.
“Thank you,” Cara says and looks at me for guidance.
I wave for a staff member to bring over some wine and shove a glass in Cara’s hand. She drains half in two big gulps as Lycus comes over and formally introduces himself.
“Should’ve done this sooner, but it’s been a busy week,” he admits.
“Lycus is my second-in-command,” I say. “The underboss.”
“Are you two related?” she asks.
Helen barks a laugh. “Lycus wishes. No, he’s just some street urchin that latched onto big brother here a long time ago.”
“We’re friends,” Lycus says with a weary sigh. “And as you can see, lovely Helen here is a delight.”
“He’s right,” she says proudly. “I am.”
“Did I hear fiancee come out of your mouth?” Aunt Anissa’s standing and staring at me with narrowed eyes. “Did I hear that correctly, Dimitra?”
“Don’t make a scene,” Mother says, looking tired, but her eyes are still hard.
And glaring right at me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Girl, come over here. What is your name again?”
I step forward. “Her name is Cara, and you will address the future lord’s wife with more respect, Aunt Anissa.”
Anissa rolls her eyes. “Oh, right, so sorry, what was I thinking? Come here, Cara, let’s see you.”
Cara glances at me, but steps forward. Anissa’s eyes move down her and back up, taking in every detail, no doubt noting any imperfection and making up more than a few.
“Lovely shoes,” Sophia says with a sneer. “Where are they from? Did you wear them in off the street?” She laughs at her own non-joke.
“Oh, honey, don’t be so rude,” Aunt Anissa says, smiling. “The girl is joining our family. We need to be more welcoming.” She comes around the table, eyes narrowed. “Where are you from again, Cara?”
“Philadelphia,” I answer for her. “And her family isn’t your concern, Aunt Anissa.”
“Hm,” Anissa says and looks back at Mother. “Dimitra, do you have anything to say?”
Mother crosses her arms. “You should’ve told me sooner, Eros.” The hurt in her tone is an ice pick to my heart.
“I know, Mother,” I say firmly. “We will discuss things later.”
“I’m sure we will.” Mother pushes back from the table and stands. “I’m tired. I think I’ll skip the meal tonight.”
“Oh, no, don’t go,” Aunt Anissa says, rolling her eyes. “Dimitra, you’re going to miss all the fun.”
“Don’t make the poor girl cry, Anissa,” Mother says. She walks over and holds out her hand. Cara blinks rapidly in surprise but takes it. Mother leans forward and kisses her on the cheek. “Welcome to hell, sweetie,” Mother whispers so that only Cara and I can hear before releasing her and walking off. Mother’s personal staff follows in her wake, and she throws me one last, angry look before she disappears.