Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 92 - 94

Chapter 92: Chapter 94

Avara POV

"I mean, really," Kelsey drags out with a disgusted drawl. "To have someone to cut up your meat slices like a toddler. At that point they must as well spoon feed him."

A laugh jostles me forward and I veer into Kelsey, knocking her off course.

"If only you walked as straight as you are."

My smile snaps into a terse line before I push her away playfully and she draws back with a humoured grin. She sidles my flank again as we walk through the corridor on our way back from a dinner fraught with tension, devoid of even small talk just the sound of metal scraping against mineral plates.

"So how many billionaires are they inviting to this fake wedding—but most importantly, how many of them have sons that are single?"

My shoulder clips into her own reproachfully and she responds with a half-amused look.

"What, you have two of them locked in? You want to keep them all for yourself?"

Shock grabs my jaw and my stunned expression is met with unrepentant, washed-out humour as she shrugs nonchalantly and looks ahead with a smile clinging to the edges of her lips.

"I don’t know what two you’re talking about because Landen is just—"

"Avara."

Our heads whip to the side to catch a glimpse of Vance striding towards us.

"One of two," she comments with a snort.

I swing over a look and her hands fly to her shoulders.

"I’ll meet you back at your room," she says with a suggestive smile and a bob of her brows then her expression changes with a twitch of irritation. "That’s if I can find it."

She pioneers ahead and alone while I remain anchored midway down the corridor. Vance seals the gap between us but the void left by the words unsaid is an abyss that deepens the distance like an erroneous connection unable to grasp the signal of the other person like we’re somewhere afar despite the close proximity like two stars that have fallen out of alignment.

"Did you plan on ignoring me for the entirety of your stay here?" he asks directly.

A shellec of sophistication that hides the splintering beneath the carefully patched-up veneer perfectly fit into place. But his eyes betray what not even I can deny with the rumpled skin around his eyes, stress pinching the corners and accentuating every crease.

"I made my agenda clear," I say with a cruel indifference to my tone that sounds unnatural to even me.

Vance’s brows slam together as if the blow was tailored to hurt him personally.

"Do what you need to and forget you ever knew me, yeah?"

"There was a time that was what both you and Landen wanted," I point out.

Outrage snatches his features, twisting into something ghastly. "Landen—seriously? Have you not been paying attention—have you not heard a word I’ve said—"

"I’ve heard enough," I exclaim with firm finality, at my end with being poised, managed, my opinions overshadowed by others and rearranging myself to accommodate their perspectives whilst undermining my own. "I know you apologized and I’m grateful for your own enlightenment."

He chaffs scornfully, shaking his head with quiet indignation.

"But that doesn’t change what I feel and what’s best for me. It’s got nothing to do with you."

"Then why avoid me—you’re acting like I was in on the stunt Landen pulled. When I was just as out of it as you."

"That stunt." My voice drops to a feverish whisper. "Made me come to an enlightenment of my own about you both."

"You’re not going to do this," he says, stern and uncompromising, his voice pierced by a fervour that is loosely contained and almost hostile with his outburst that shades his skin, highlighting the bulging veins on his forehead and neck—the veneer crumbing with every word. "You’re not the only victim here—"

"I never said I was one."

"None of us wanted this, but now I find myself needing you," he confesses with a fire in his voice that sets his tone aflame. "Not an alliance, not force, not fake but real. A friendship, anything that will keep you in my life beyond this mayhem. I just don’t want to be the reason that you would—"

His sentiment slips into an incoherent sound as his eyes dart around frantically like he suddenly doesn’t know where he is. A quivering runs through him as his fingers tremble at his sides and his breaths escape him too fast to catch and too heavy to carry. Impulse draws me near him and I fling my arms around his neck to pull him against me. His shudders reverberate through me as he eases into my embrace, his chin settling on my shoulder before his forehead finds peace, then his face tucks away in the crook of my neck, absorbing the well of warmth from his unsteady breaths.

"I’m sorry," I whisper. "I know none of this is your fault, it’s just been... a lot. You know, the only time I felt some semblance of serenity was when we were at that cabin. The only imperfect thing about it was that our getaway was cut short."

He pulls away, only until the space between our faces is threadbare.

"We can go back for your honeymoon."

I pull a cheeky face and it ignites a smile on his.

"I’m serious, after the wedding, when the papers are signed—your part is finished. So is your link to Landen and everything else. And to celebrate, we can take a drive there—this time with groceries."

The thought sparks a smile of my own. "I don’t know, I quite liked that almost-expired pasta you made."

"For the record, I lied and the pasta was like a month past its sell by date but see—we’re fine."

I gape at him as I spin around on my heels. "Goodnight, Vance."

"So I didn’t hear a no about the trip?"

I smile to myself as I walk away.

***

"Just when I thought I knew everything. You casually drop another bomb," she echoes, her voice muffled behind the door of my ensuite bathroom. "You never told me about your one-night vacation?"

"I did, you just ignored that and the fact that my father is the mastermind behind a criminal conspiracy." I roll over on the king-size bed so I’m lying flat on my back to view the full triangular head of the wooden canopy that frames the bed. "You were too concerned about me running away with you-know-who."

The bathroom door flows open and Kels struts out in matching short-sleeved pajamas and white towel wrapped around her head. I tip my head back, although my sight is upside down it doesn’t obscure the beauty of nature—the autumn brown like the skin of the forest like rich earth suffused in sunlight. Her full frame with curves most women envy and many men yearn for.

"That whole ordeal sounds like fiction."

I flop around so my hair swooshes to one side from the abrupt movement as I drive my hand to push back a few sheets from my face as I stare back at her.

"You know who you sound like? Me, when I first heard about it all. But I heard it!" I shift myself into a sphinx position, supported by my elbows and forearms that are perched near the foot of the bed. "I wished you were there when Simon played the recording of him talking to someone about Vellum. And how he—whoever he was talking to—doesn’t have to worry about me because I always do what I’m told."

"Okay, that is unsettling," she admits. "It’s just hard to believe, Avie. In my mind, your father is like a perfect paragon." An awkward wince captures her face like she recognises what she overlooked. "Which I’m sure it’s ten times worse for you. I know how you worshipped your dad—I mean, I did too because he’s literally the dream dad. I’ve watched him cut conferences short so he could make appearances at Luciano’s soccer games. Or the time he came to your horse riding show wearing a ’proud dad’ t-shirt."

I smile wistfully at the bittersweet memory that tugs at a place long forgotten but never gone.

"But I’ve also watched you forfeit your own dreams to support his," she counters. "You’re not his wife. You’ve never owed him anything."

"He never acted like I did," I defend instinctively. "All I did was out of love—he was my dad. He never had to ask. I lost my mom and I learnt at a young age how fragile life was and to cherish those in it. It’s why I clung to my dad and my brothers. Other than you. I was convinced that I needed no one else out of that."