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I smile at her, leaning across to pull the duvet over us. "There are no half-measures with a man like me. And you embarrassed me today, wearing a fucking sexy black dress and flaunting your beautiful body in front of everyone I know. I specifically told you what to wear, and you let me spend—wait." I frown. "How did you even get that dress?"
"Josie put it on her credit card. You owe her for that, by the way."
I shake my head. "You're gonna be a handful, aren't you?"
She drops the duvet, flashing her tits at me. "More than a handful, wouldn't you say? Now I'm gonna run a bath and wash your grime away."
I laugh. She leaves the room, and I close my eyes.
Who must I be to deserve a woman like Morgana? I never believed I could do the love thing, but maybe Icanbe that man and still be a powerful leader. Papa was right—he didn't teach me shit worth knowing. But my Mama sure did, and like my asshole father said, maybe her ways will win the day.
I stood beside Morgana and swore to cherish and protect her. Toloveher. I'll have to work on love, but protection? That Icando.
I walk into the ensuite to find her wrapped in a towel and pouring bath oil under the running water. "Morgana, I need to know. Who or what gives you those nightmares?"
She freezes for a second, then pulls the towel tightly around her. "I didn't realize you knew. When did I—"
"That first night." I take her hand. "You were crying out, and before I knew what was happening, you were in my arms. It felt wrong to shrug you off, so I lay beside you and crashed out."
Morgana's eyes shimmer, and without words, I know she understands.
Genuine vulnerability must be earned; now is the right time to ask. I won't drag it out of her or use it to hurt or mock her. Whether she's willing or able to tell me is another matter entirely.
Morgana shuts off the faucet and sits on the bathtub's rim. She draws a deep breath.
"My ex, Jack," she whispers. "He put me through hell."
I want to listen to her, but I'm already running ahead in my mind.
Get a name.Get Arman on it. Find this fucker and destroy everything he cares about, then make him beg to die.
"Jack?" I squeeze Morgana's hand, and she looks at me. "Jack what?"
She sniffs, piqued at my priorities. "That was the name he went by, but his real name was Cassius. Cassius Jackson."
Someone hammers on the suite door, and we both jump. I run out to find Sasha barging in.
"Vladi, Papa's gone. Dulcie went to him and found him not breathing. Come and help me get rid of the guests before they figure out something is wrong."
30
Four hours later…
Morgana
The guests left, and Sergey's doctor arrived to sign the death certificate, the undertaker hot on his heels. Vlad and his brothers silently carried the coffin to the hearse, with David and Arman following behind. No one felt moved to go with their father's body. Lilyana retreated to her room, taking her feelings with her.
Now we're in the downstairs lounge, and the atmosphere is oppressive. The men drink hard, refilling their glasses every few minutes. Vlad stares out the window.
"Arman," he says at last. "I know I said no business today, but I need you to find someone."
Everyone looks at Vlad.
"Who?" Arman asks.
"Cassius Jackson." Vlad turns around, his face shadowed in the low light. "I want the cunt alive, for now."
"Vladi, Sergey isn't even cold!" David says, getting to his feet. "Why should we—"
