Page 162 of A Vicious Love

Marcel’s gaze sharpened. “Rome is too attached.”

I sighed, already feeling the argument coming. “Do not start. And, do not get into a fight with Nik in front of them.”

I was not in the mood for a one on one with Vince. But if he went for Marcel, I would. Marcel didn’t need me to protect him. The man was as heavy and disciplined for violence as me.

Regardless, I still would. That was the dynamic. Nik and him started the argument. Vince and I stepped in when it got physical or saw the violence coming and blocked it.

“I mean it,” I said. “You and Nikolai have been acting like divorced parents since Kingston was five. Tomorrow is not the day to make him choose which side of the dorm corridor to stand on.”

Marcel nodded, looked down at the academy packet. “His suite is in Crow House. Regional heir floor. Private room, study, weapons vault.”

“He has first-year football trials in the second week. That still mandatory?” Harrison asked.

“It’s Crow,” Marcel said. “Of course.”

I leaned back. “The bloodline loves being the best at everything.” I pulled my phone back out of my pocket.

We agreed on Marcel handing the travel plans. I went back to my office. Turning my phone in hand.

Perhaps, if I had attended the academy I would have learnt to talk to women instead of barking orders.

I fucked women. I restrained them to not touch me. I did not talk to them. My lack of a relationship with Sienna was evidences of my terrible communication.

By late afternoon, I had solved the problem. Not emotionally. Obviously. That would have required a therapist, or a priest. And possibly a court order preventing me from speaking to women until I learned how not to make every sentence sound like a threat.

I solved it by forcing the building she was in to evacuate. It created the perfect excuse to ask how she was again.

Look at Daddy learning communication.

An entire office block two streets over had a faulty electrical panel. It wasn’t dangerously faulty, yet. But the building manager had ignored three safety notices.

Sienna’s studio shared the rear service corridor with that block.

I told Reeves to call the fire marshal.

Reeves, because he valued his life, did not ask why I had suddenly developed such a passionate interest in municipal safety compliance.

Within sixteen minutes, alarms went off through the block. Twenty-two, everyone in the connected buildings was outside. Within twenty-five, Sienna Bellemere stood on the pavement in a pale wrap sweater, looking annoyed.

Excellent.

I had created an opening.

People called this manipulation when they lacked vision.

I called it communication with infrastructure.

My phone was already in my hand.

Are you all right? I saw there was an evacuation near the studio.

That was true. I had seen it on twelve cameras.

Which was the correct number of cameras for a woman who made me lose the ability to think normally when she walked near roads.

I sent the message.

Then stared at the screen like a man with no dignity.