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“Because you’re Octavius’s wife. Whatever you want, he’ll get it for you.” Another long sip. “No one is allowed to upset you. That’s how it is with us.”
My heart flips inside my chest at this admission, but I can’t help the next question slipping past my lips. “Why are you hurting Jimena, then?”
Instantly, all amusement is gone from him. He straightens up and finishes his drink in one gulp, placing the glass away, and I wince at the loud rattling sound. “That’s none of your business.”
Except it is. He’s my husband’s best friend, so this kind of makes him part of the…family? I’m not sure, but I barely interacted with the other two guys while Florian goes out of his way to converse with me.
If a war erupts between the two dynasties, we will have to pick sides, and well, Florian might be a jerk, but he’s our jerk at this point. I prefer to have all the facts so I can better defend him to everyone.
United front and all that jazz or whatever married couples do.
“She’s pregnant. You need to man up.” Whatever holds him back from her can’t be this big of a deal. “I understand Santiago is your friend and all. She needs to come first, though.” I can’t imagine how his behavior must hurt her.
To see all of them get married and find their happiness while the man she loves ignores her.
“It has nothing to do with Santiago and everything to do with Jimena and my child’s safety.” He sighs. “It’s okay to be a villain if it means you protect the princess from the psychopath ready to destroy her for daring to love you.”
I have no time to reply to his statement because we hear the main door being open and heavy footsteps vibrate the floor as Octavius enters. Relief washes over me at the sight of him. “Hi, kitten.” He greets me and nods at Florian. “Thanks for staying.” He shifts his focus back to me, and I see him look at the boy. “Hi, kid.”
He jumps off from my arms and runs straight to Octavius, smacking into his knees and sighing heavily while wrapping his arms around his leg, and we all just blink in stunned silence at this.
He hasn’t moved at all in the past two hours.
My husband watches him for several seconds, shock flashing on his face that he quickly covers up, and he scratches at his cheek before trying to cover it up with his hair. My heart pangs painfully because I’ve noticed he does that whenever he wants to be less intimidating to someone.
He has no reason to do so, but I resist the urge to say anything as he crouches down, and the boy stares at him. He wipes away his tears. “It’s all right, little one. No one is going to hurt you.” A raspy breath escapes the kid, and he hugs Octavius. Despite being scared of all these men and ignoring Florian, he clearly likes Octavius. I guess he won him over when he defended him. “I give you my word.” The boy leans back, and Octavius points at the cookies and tea. “I love these.” The kid still isn’t convinced, so Octavius gets up and goes to the table, breaking one of the cookies in half and eating it while grabbing a mug and sipping a little bit of tea. “It’s good.”
The boy follows suit right away, climbing up on the couch to sit next to me, and reaches for the cookie, stuffing his mouth full. “He refused to eat anything. He must trust you more.” Which is strange since he ate all the food at my place.
My husband must read my thoughts as he explains, “You ate the food right along with him.” I don’t even examine how disturbing this statement is, considering he’s admitting to spying on me. “His stepfather probably tampered with his food, so he won’t eat it if someone else doesn’t as well.”
Oh.
Anger rushes back at me, so I ask, “Is he gone?”
He shakes his head, causing my disappointment. One day into this marriage and I’m already sad someone isn’t dead. “He will be, though. Once Santiago and Remi finish with them all.” I’m glad to hear his friends will end these sick people. “His mother signed all the paperwork. She has no legal rights over him. I paid her enough, so she won’t ever show her face or open her mouth about it.”
My jaw about hits the floor at this because, what? First of all, how did he manage to do all that in just a few hours, and second of all…why did he pay this bitch anything? “We could have built a case on her.”
“Yeah and she could have pleaded with the public and the judge. People love all these stories, where parents reunite with their children, getting a second chance.” His tone leaves no doubt that he despises the mere idea of it, and I really need him to share more about his past to understand what kind of environment he grew up in.
Not good, clearly, and how he guessed the kid’s hesitation about food tells me everything I need to know.
That stepfather of his deserves death, and I don’t care what anyone else says.
“So we need to start working on the paperwork,” he tells me, and my stomach drops while I place my hand on the kid’s head, running my fingers over his hair. He leans into the touch while reaching for the tea.
Paperwork, as in contacting social workers and sending him into the system?
“Can we do a few things first?” Octavius leans back and motions with his chin for me to elaborate. “Can we first run tests on him and find a good doctor who might help him? And just give him some time to heal from this nightmare before we start working on the paperwork?” Maybe even get him some psychological help.
The kid gulps his tea soundly, licking his lips before taking another cookie, and while all this sugar isn’t good for his health, I let him have it. He might take comfort in it right now.
“These kind of tests require a lot of visits to the hospital, and while we can run them under the radar, it’ll be too difficult for everyone involved. I prefer the legal route, so nothing can surprise us down the road.” He shrugs. “It makes sense. The process will be easy. We always get what we want.”
Is this supposed to reassure me? “You have all the power to do that before we contact the authorities?”
“Yes. But why would I do it and waste our time?”
