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I never had an issue with my husband’s… Boyfriend. Partner? Lover? I don’t know how to define Adonis. He didn’t set out to hurt me. That much is clear. Adonis is my daughter’s age, and he works for the Katantian government now. He dated my husband for a couple of years before he was murdered.
He’s a good-looking young man, but I’m sure Travis didn’t fuck him solely because he’s pretty.
Every day, Adonis and I spend time in the same building. The palace.
The guards, my brother, and Kamila urge me to have a conversation with Adonis. But I don’t see the point. Why would I want to speak to the man that warmed my husband’s bed when I couldn’t?
Sure, I was used by Aram for years before Travis ever touched another person.
Still.
It hurt. It would always hurt. And a conversation with Adonis will only add more pain.
Adonis advances toward me, and I duck, hiding behind the guests. My heart explodes, and I lose control of my facial expressions. If I don’t leave the party, everyone will see the tears on my face.
This is my brother’s birthday party. I can’t break it off with my silly tears over a husband who had warned me about his sexuality. It wasn’t like I didn’t know Travis was gay. I knew, and I still said yes when he asked to marry me for my protection.
I leave the Main Hall, mingling among the guests in the foyer. Perfumes from all over the world invade my senses, but I focus on my goal to reach the stairs. I take the staff’s route to the cellar, and I explore how far I can go without scanning my palace ID card.
The staff ignores me, as they should. They have hundreds of guests to take care of upstairs now. The heels on my feet take me into the depths of the cold cellar, where I find a quiet corner to myself.
Once I land on my butt on the floor, I take a deep breath.
I don’t hate Travis for falling in love with Adonis. I repeat that mantra, but it doesn’t sink in. In a different world, I could’ve fallen for Aram Wraith. Why not? I could’ve seduced him into making me his new queen.
He was already knee-deep inside of me. Why not take advantage of it?
Those vile thoughts would get me nowhere. I never once felt an ounce of sympathy or appreciation for Aram. He continuously abused me, and he turned my son into a freak. He made everyone I love lose respect for me.
He did so much more. He hurt children. He wanted to hurtmychild.
“Mrs. Cross, are you okay?” The voice is deep, almost a growl. Impatient.
Are the shadows speaking to me now? I sob, hiding away my face behind my knees. It’s an inappropriate pose, revealing my panties to anyone who wishes to see, but Katantians have seen me naked on one occasion or another.
I couldn’t care less about my purity right now.
There isn’t any left.
Out of the shadows, Måns Bengtsson steps forward. His stoic body is tense, and his fists are balled. He wears a suit, matching the party’s theme. Officially, he’s not on duty. Why is he down here checking on me?
He lingers by the door. We stare at each other for a moment, and I’m the first one to break eye contact. His cologne thickens the air, inviting urges I’d long forgotten to resurface. Now that Måns is here, I don’t have to fear anything, do I?
The cameras caught me crying, and my brother sent his employee after me—his favorite, the one that does everything right.Only the best for me.
Måns is young, life and all his potential oozing from his pores. He’s one year younger than Valentina. How do I know? Aside from the fact that he’s my brother’s favorite employee, I did my own little deep dive in the palace’s data banks.
I did it because I was bored. Not because he’s intense with steel-blue eyes that mesmerize me. I don’t seek his eyes out again because I’m crying, and I can’t see through the mist.
The man reaches me, towering above me with his height. He stands in front of me like a statue come alive. “Mrs. Cross…”
“Can you leave me alone?” I beg. All I see are his shiny leather shoes, and it’s enough. I was looking for my brother’s favorite employee earlier, and now that he’s here, I just want to disappear.
“No.” Måns crouches down next to me. I shudder. “Who hurt you?”
Where do I start?
“Do you find the question funny?” he inquires at my inappropriate snicker. He’s far too earnest for my taste. It’s a party. Loosen up!
