Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 53 - 57

Chapter 53: Chapter 57

Kelsey POV

The walk to the car is shrouded in a pall I feel I cannot penetrate. The moment the cameras stopped, her smile dropped. She hasn’t said a word since. When we reach the car park outside, Frank is ready with the backseat doors open. I curve around the back to slide in from the other slide. Once everyone’s inside, the car lurches forward and we make our way home. Avara’s eyes are on her trembling, twiddling fingers before her gaze flickers up and her eyes lock with mine.

Her face contorts and I drape my arm around her shoulders so she can draw closer, resting her head on my chest as she clutches onto my forearm.

"You did so good, so proud of you, kid."

She snorts and finds the strength to rise on her own as she lifts herself upright. "Which part?"

"All of it, that Hartley guy is an asshole."

She shakes her head numbly, politely swiping her tears away like they’re mascara smudges. "He’s just doing his job."

I swing over a look. "Girl, you have one more time to defend a bastard."

She bursts into a hearty laugh and my smile blooms at the sound. A sound I haven’t heard in a long time. Avara is busy looking out for others, but they’re not looking out for her. I mean, her family loves her that I have no doubt, but everyone seems to have agendas, hidden self-interiors and ulterior motives—none that can be trusted if cloaked in criminality.

Once we approach the house, we’re met with a startling surprise. The sleek Rolls Royce gleams under the late afternoon sun, its polished black exterior a mirror reflecting the world around it. Its silver accents shimmer with understated elegance. Parked on either side, two armored SUVs form a protective wall. Stationed near the vehicles, stern-faced guards in dark tactical gear stand at attention.

Avara falters, her smile thinning into a terse line. "No," she breathes.

When we park close enough, the guards break formation. Two of them come over to open our car doors and I deliver them an awkward smile out of perceived obligation. I climb out and I walk with Avara to the guarded front door. The emotion she emanates is an echo of something darker. The tension before was coiled in dismay, but this one has shifted into a quiet vehemence. The door is opened for us and Avara takes a strong step forward before we’re soon exposed to the living room and who occupies it.

A striking Vacheron trio dressed in tailored suits that fit them like second skin. Colton, silver-haired and commanding, stands at the center, his salt-and-pepper beard adding gravitas to his presence.

To his right, Landen with that tousled blonde hair and piercing eyes, leans casually with his forearms on his thighs, exuding confidence with the ease of someone used to power. His smirk suggests he already knows how this conversation will end.

On Colton’s left, dark-haired and brooding, Vance crosses his arms over his chest, the cut of his black suit emphasizing his lean, muscular frame. His sharp jaw and intense gaze give him an edge of menace, contrasting his brother’s smooth charm. My eyes linger on him a little too long and he tears his gaze away, like the sight of me means less than nothing to him.

"My apologies for appearing unannounced," Colten says, standing up as he buttons up his crisp suit blazer with a fine finesse. "I wanted to take a moment to commend you on your interview. The grace with which you carried yourself was a quiet reminder of why, time and again, you stand as the best choice."

A scoff escapes me and Colton’s eyes nearly slice apart. My lips seal close instantly.

"Sorry," I say on impulse, invoked by a dread his mere gaze slips in without even saying anything. "It’s just that you say—best choice, like she’s grade A meat or something."

Colton stares back at me with an indecipherable expression. "That was never my intention. This alliance serves a greater purpose than individuals or the households they belong to," he educates. "One I wouldn’t haven’t entered out of necessity or a belief bigger than myself. And Avara is at the center of it."

An unsteady breath seeps out Avara’s lips, her eyes fixed on Colton, utterly shunning his sons.

"Now at the matter at hand, I have delicate matters to discuss," he says to her, then gives me this pointed, dismissive glance.

Avara glides closer to me to hook her arm with mine. "She is my anchor on-screen and off," Avara declares, like the verdict is unchangeable. "One thing you must understand and accept about me is that I come as a matching set. Whatever you say to me, I’ll tell her anyway."

Colton accepts this with a regal nod and smiles at me formally. "Very well. Since my son has chosen to alter a predetermined narrative. You will marry Landen, there is no way that can be rectified. He made sure of that."

My eyes jump to him with that devilish smirk as if he takes pride in the ploy.

"I need your love for him to overshadow what you had with Vance," Colton says forthrightly. "Make them forget about it all, and by the show of the interview. You have made a promising start. There is a corporate summit this weekend, the board of directors, powerful investors and moguls will be in attendance. So will you three. Vance will be at every event leading to the wedding as a show of strength and support that we are a united front."

A splinter in Vance’s stoic mask, eyes sinking to his lap.

"Your engagement will be announced shortly after," he appraises, dictating her life story. "Your father and I still have the nuances to iron out. Do you have any questions?"

"You seem to have it all figured out," Avara says with a scorn that makes me stifle a smile.

Colton suffers a chivalrous disposition. "I know all of this is imposing and difficult to bear, especially with all the scandal stirred," he says, his eyes skewering into Landen in a way that makes his smirk slip off his face. "Having to do it all over again, cleaning up Landen’s mess as you truly would as his wife. I’ll have Allison send you the itinerary and the details you need to know."

Avara surrenders an obedient nod.

"I’d like a word with my fiance alone," Vance requests.

"Ex," Landen corrects, just to drive the dagger deeper as he sprouts to full height.

His eyes lock onto Avara with a breathless, burning intensity, every step toward the arch of the living room taut with purpose. His gaze clings to her, unshakable, as though the very air between them tightens. Only when he brushes past her does the spell break, but the weight of his presence lingers, electric and unresolved. Colton nods and follows Landen out, then Vance rises, steering her gaze to me questioningly. That’s when Avara releases me and slowly turns to face me with a rueful smile.

"Privacy—okay," I say with an uncomfortable laugh. "I’ll go get us some coffee."

Avara POV

I stare after Kels until I find the courage to look back at him.

"You handled yourself proficiently out there," Vance praises with a solemn stare. "It’s a good thing, too, because there will be more unnerving questions to come."

"Something to look forward to, too," I say sarcastically as I force myself to hold his gaze. "Vance, you have to know—"

"I know—"

"Nothing happened between Landen and I," I say in a rush like I might choke on the words. "I mean, he tried, obviously, and the pictures at the club—"

"I know," he says, louder this time. "And thanks to Kelsey expounding, I know a bit better. Were you ever going to me or anyone about the drinks?"

The question is a weight on me that makes my shoulders slump. "I–I couldn’t accuse him of something I wasn’t sure of. Before that night, I’d never done shots before, so I wasn’t entirely sure of its effects."

"Him pressuring you to do even that was heinous," he says with something rough leathering his tone. "I’m sorry that he caused all of this—that you got ensnared in the endless void that is Vacheron."

I lift a hesitant hand, wavering in the air as if unsure of its own intent, before it falters and falls. Vance catches it with ease, his grip firm but questioning, as though he doesn’t ask why it found its way into his grasp—only that it had to. Gently, he raises my hand by the tips of my fingers, his touch slow and deliberate. With his eyes closed, he presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand, the moment heavy with something unspoken, fragile yet undeniable. And tears burn behind my back as I blink fast. He draws away and frees my hand gingerly.

"You were never to blame—none of it," he decrees. "This was all Landen, part of some grand design. A desperate bid to claim what he believes he’s entitled to. My father has muttered about cutting Landen off cold and I think this is just a way to secure his place—however fleeting."

I concede a small nod. "If it makes it any better. I would choose you to be my fake fiance every time."

He nods knowingly. "You deserve to be one’s true love. Even if it can’t be me."

I wince at the sentiment. "Don’t get all soft on me. This is already hard enough."

"I can’t help it," he admits helplessly. "You wring it out of me whether I like it or not."

"At least we’ll still be near each other..."

"Engaged to my brother," he says acidly, "watching him touch you freely, yes, something to look forward to," he says with equal sarcasm.

"You sound jealous?"

"I’m not," he says stubbornly. "Doesn’t mean I like it either."