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Ayla sniffled before palming her pregnant belly.
“Did you just call me fat?”
Huh?
And then she busted into tears, loud sobbing, like someone just died.
I backpedaled quickly, my arms thrown out in front of me in caution. “What?”
I am going to kill you, Alessio mouthed as he tried to soothe her.
“He called me fat, Alessio,” Ayla wailed.
“No. No. No. He didn’t. Viktor, say something!”
“I didn’t call you fat. I just said you are going to burst—” I paused when she sobbed louder.
“You called me fat again!”
Alessio sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath.
Wait…what? I didn’t call her fat. Did I?
Chapter 8
Viktor
Alessio glared daggers at me across the table. He was probably thinking of multiple ways to mutilate my body.
And I was thinking of multiple ways to not only escape his wrath but also Ayla’s cries.
She had long stopped crying, after several minutes of Alessio trying to calm her down. But her quiet sniffles were breaking my heart a little bit. There was lots of confusion clouding my fucked-up mind.
After taking our seats, I saw the other guys coming forward. Phoenix slapped me behind the head, almost causing me to hit the table.
“Welcome home, fucker.”
“That’s a nice welcome, asshole,” I muttered, rubbing my head.
He shrugged before taking a seat beside me. “That’s the only welcome you’re getting. Don’t expect me to kiss and make up. I don’t swing that way.”
I looked at Nikolay, watching him take his seat on the opposite side. “It’s nice to have you home,” he said in acknowledgment.
“Well, it’s nice to be home.”
Maddie and Lena came forward, joining us at the table. Poor Mama Lena. She looked pale and confused. It was time to give her break.
“Don’t worry, Lena. I’m okay. We’re okay. It was business,” I explained quietly. Her eyes widened, and she nodded mutely.
That was all the information she needed. It was business.
In other ways, it was our business, and she didn’t need to worry herself about it. Those words explained everything.
“You boys will give me a heart attack one day. Give this poor old lady a break, will you?” she replied gruffly, glaring at us.
“Sorry,” Phoenix mumbled around his spoon before continuing to stuff food in his mouth.
My stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Staring at my plate, I sighed in relief. “I missed your cooking, Lena.”
She nodded before sending me a small smile. Lena couldn’t stay mad at us for long. It was impossible.
Damn, was I glad to be home.
At the thought, everything came crashing down and then stilled. How fucking stupid was I?
This wouldn’t last long. I had to go back to Solonik. I had to leave my family again and crawl back into the hellhole I was trying desperately to escape from.
Well, this was the true definition of fuck my life.
Feeling frustrated, I concentrated on the plate until Maddie’s voice broke through the silence. “Ayla, why aren’t you eating?”
My head snapped up to see Ayla staring at her plate, but instead of eating, she was only pushing her food around. My heart tightened a little at the sorrowful look on her face.
“I don’t feel very hungry,” she answered softly before sending Maddie a tight smile. It didn’t convince anyone. And sure as hell not Alessio.
Alessio was seated between Ayla and me, so I was forced to lean across him. “I didn’t mean to say that, baby girl. You misunderstood my words. I didn’t call you fat. You are the most beautiful girl,” I whispered, hoping this time she wouldn’t cry.
Ayla nodded but didn’t meet my eyes. Alessio pushed me back into my chair with a low growl. His frown told me he was majorly pissed that I had hurt Ayla with my careless words.
Everyone continued eating, but from the corner of my eyes, I saw Alessio leaning forward and whispering something in Ayla’s ears.
Then she blushed.
Even the tip of her nose turned red—whether in embarrassment or something else, I didn’t know.
But when Alessio’s hand disappeared underneath the table and Ayla’s breathing changed, I got the idea.
My hands fisted on the table, the feeling of jealousy suffocating me again.
She bit on her lips, looking so sexy and innocent at the same time. The way her cheeks colored beautifully, the slight shakiness of her hand as she brought her glass to her lips, I got the idea so fucking well.
Every time I gazed into her face, I tortured myself with the impossible. I let myself believe in a fantasy where it was me. Not Alessio. But me loving Ayla.
It was me touching her.
Not my brother.
Until even the fantasy felt like it was strangling the air out of me.
Fantasy would always be a fantasy. It could never be reality.
And that was my fucking problem.
I couldn’t have the reality I wanted, so I tortured myself by dreaming about it. Every fucking day. Every moment I saw them together, happily married.
