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Scrolling through my messages, I see some from the staff at my penthouse in New York. Anna apparently gave the Chef a piece of her mind and left a lengthy preference list. Good for her. I text him back, telling him to fix whatever she wants.
My finger hovers over the text from Heimdall. I’ve purposely avoided him since the little fiasco at the wedding, but it seems my younger brother isn’t taking the hint.
Heimdall
Still ignoring me?
Figures. You used to do this when we were kids.
We need to talk, brother, and since you won’t answer my calls, then I guess we’re going to have to do it via text messaging.
Fuck. I nod my head at the soldier with us, making sure he’ll monitor my bride so I can take this call in private. My car pulls up and I slide in the back, dialing Heimdall.
“I wondered if you were going to call.”
“I’m on my honeymoon, in case you’ve forgotten, so say whatever it is that you need to say.”
He exhales. “I tried to do this in person, if you’ll recall.”
“Yes, at my wedding.”
“Yes, the same wedding I saw you making out with your fucking stepdaughter.” He pauses. “How long have you been fucking her?”
“Believe it or not, we’re not fucking.”
Yet.
“Odin, I don’t need to tell you that this is stupid for several reasons. We’ve worked hard to put this plan in motion, and I’m going to be pissed if it falls apart over some young piece of pussy.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to defend Anna, but I wisely keep my mouth shut. I know my brother. If he thinks Anna is a distraction, he’ll remove her from the equation. I don’t blame him. I’d do the same if our roles were reversed.
I say, “Our plan will not fall apart. In fact, things are progressing nicely.”
He hums. “I heard from some of Elsa’s former soldiers. They’re ready to pledge allegiance to us.”
“I know.”
“How did you pull that off? Threaten their lives?”
I smile. “I simply pointed out a few truths that they couldn’t deny.”
“Has your bride offered any insight?”
“No, but I didn’t expect her to. She’s in thick with Elsa, which means I don’t trust her at all.”
“Still planning on knocking her up?”
An image of Anna’s stomach round with my child crosses my mind and I have to fucking adjust myself like a horny teenager.
“Yes, the plan is to still get Selma pregnant.” I add, “We’ve been working hard on that goal.”
“Is she any good in bed?”
I snort. “No.”
“Didn’t think she’d be. I bet she’s a real pillow princess.” He pauses. “Are you good?”
“What is this, Heimdall? Are we fucking going to start talking about our feelings next?”
