Chapter 5

ChapterFive

Ella

Asher coming to my rescue makes sense in a twisted and complicated way. On the outside, he appears aloof, dismissive, and so contained that you’d think he was an android. But Asher has a depth that most don’t recognize and usually dismiss.

Asher has the softest soul of my three stepbrothers. He’s the gentle one who takes all the pain and holds it in to protect those he cares about. His selflessness and lost spirit allow him to rip his heart out with no thought of the consequences to himself.

Alaric burdens himself with the duty of caretaker. I’m unsure if that derives from being the eldest or because he’s Celeste’s only biological child and feels responsible for his two younger brothers. Whatever the reason, it fuels him to ensure everyone is safe and accounted for. He’s the planner, commander, and executioner. Nothing is done without his knowledge or approval.

River could be labeled unhinged. He’s saddled with a mind on the verge of insanity. Possibly overtaken by psychosis. I don’t think River has a conscience or a tangible grasp of right or wrong. The only thing he understands is immediate gratification, and he has no limits to the depravity he’d partake in to get his way.

Asher’s words lay siege to my body and echo in the fabric of my mind, forcing their way past my erratic emotions.

“Stand up. Yell at him.”

The same nervous energy is present whenever I’m around them, a continuous buzz heightened by apprehension, intrigue, lust, and curiosity. The same emotions I’d experienced when they first showed up at the house and climbed out of the limo, larger than life and looming over everything I’d previously known. It’s a complicated concoction that leaves my head spinning with something foreign and unknown. I figured the buzz would dissipate once I’d been around the three of them long enough. But it hasn’t wavered. If anything, it’s more present than the first time I saw them.

I would’ve never been able to look, let alone yell at them. But times have changed, and my connections with all three men assure me they would never hurt me, even during the most vicious fights and dangerous arguments. Even with how Alaric treated me, I know I’m still safe with him. And even if he decimates me, leaving me a husk of a human being, I’ll know I stood up for myself—something my father instilled in me.

I observe Asher. His position hasn’t shifted on the bed.

His lips turn up. “I only respect fighters, Ella. That’s why I like you.”

Jumping off the bed, I wipe away the remnants of my tears and head for the door. With my hand on the brass knob and my back turned to the man I care for so deeply, I pause, unsure of what to say. I have so many words I want to utter, but I know there’s no obligation to muddle things with words when it comes to Asher. We’ve always been able to say so much with our silence.

I don’t look at him, but I know his eyes are on me—a burning recognition of something familiar, warm, and protective.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For always being there.”

I don’t wait for him to answer. I fling the door open, rush to the closed one next to mine, and slam my fists against the dark wood.

My balance betrays me as the door opens, and I fall to the floor. Holding my arms out, I brace the impact with my hands.

I take in his chocolate brown Italian loafers and the hem of his navy-blue wool pants. The fluttering moonlight from the window enhances the shine of his shoes. Perfect and pristine.

A few months ago, Alaric wore hoodies and jeans, but he’s transformed into a man who wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a three-piece suit. The sophisticated Fortune 500 CEO look juxtaposes the tunnels in his ears and the tattoos decorating every visible part of his flesh not covered by the decadent Italian or French threads.

“Well, hello there, Princess,” Alaric coos from above me before hauling me up by my shoulders.

His body surrounds me like a military unit protecting an unsuspecting civilian. He’s an intimidating force who doesn’t want me to be comfortable because that would mean he’d lose the upper hand.

My throat tightens, my stomach plummets, and the courage I had in droves a moment ago quickly melts away. “Um, hi.”

“Thought I told you to stay the fuck away from me,” Alaric spits. His words are directed at me, but his eyes look anywhere but.

I peek behind his arms and notice Celeste sitting in the corner, smiling smugly at me. She’s always been weird with the guys. It goes beyond motherly behavior. She’s taken the overbearing parent role to a new and creepy level.

Her black dress is so short that you’d think she was a college freshman attending her first frat party. She lifts the champagne flute in her hand to her lips and takes a sip, crossing her legs and forcing the restrictive dress further up her thighs. Any higher, and I’m sure I’ll have a perfect view of her vagina. You’d never believe Celeste recently lost the man she claimed to have loved so much that she didn’t know how she’d move on.

Ignoring her, my gaze roams to the other side of the bed. River sits there, facing the wall, his eyes focused on the hardwood floor. The stillness of his body is so out of sorts with the guy I know. His slumped shoulders and inability to look my way send alarm bells through me.

I’ve never seen him like this. Usually, he’s full of arrogance to the point he seems incapable of any emotion that doesn’t serve his needs. Seeing him so empty has a wave of empathy raging through me. I cannot imagine what’s going on in his head and forcing him to look the way he does now.

“I—” Words fail me. I don’t know what to say.

I don’t want to have a conversation with Celeste in the room. The way her eyes rake over me sends chills along my spine. She’s always creeped me out. As much as my father gazed at her in complete devotion and insisted on her goodness, I never believed it.

“Ella, so appropriate of you to join us, dear. We were just talking about you,” Celeste purrs. Her fake smile is a desperate cover-up for the chill in her voice.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Would you care to clue me in on the conversation the three of you were having behind my back?”

“I was telling the boys how it would be appropriate for you to get out. You’ve been cooped up in this house for such a long time.”

Celeste’s bony hands, with their long, red nails, move to the bedside table, and she grabs a shiny envelope. Rising from the bed, she walks toward me, the champagne sparkling in the flute in her other hand. My eyes move from her face to the envelope. Taking it, I open it and read the words inside. An invitation. To an ostentatious ball hosted by Benjamin Nevin and his degenerate son, David.

I shove the paper back at her, slamming it into her chest. “No, thank you.”

Celeste smiles, gripping the envelope tightly. “Oh, sweet Ella, you seem to be under the assumption that I was asking you to attend.”

Wait a minute. Does this woman think she can tell me what to do? Who the fuck does she think she is?

“You can’t make me go to something I refuse to attend? Celeste, you seem to be under the assumption I’m not a full-grown adult.”

“Ella.” Celeste takes a warning step toward me, crowding my space and making it hard to breathe.

She doesn’t invoke the same nervous energy as the guys. Celeste carries impending doom, conveying that she’ll render my life unbearable if I don’t do what she says.

But even with this knowledge kicking me in the guts and screaming in my brain not to push this woman’s boundaries, I hold my ground, willing to witness the magnitude of her cruelty. “I’m not going.”

Celeste moves closer, forcing me to retreat. Her entire stance is intimidation, and my mind rages for me to fight against it.

I step forward, relishing her look of shock. My mouth opens to give her a piece of my mind, but Alaric steps between us.

His back is to me as he faces Celeste. His voice is calm, but the tightness of his shoulders makes it apparent he’s having a Zen moment. “I’ll take care of it, Mother. You can leave us and carry on with anything of importance you need to preoccupy yourself with.”

Celeste’s eyes narrow as if she wants to talk back to Alaric. To stomp her feet and demand she get her way. She lifts her hand and pats his cheek, placating him with one condescending action.

Celeste peers around him and her eyes pierce mine, silently warning me that she pulls all the strings and will eventually get her way. “All right, dear.” Her gaze remains on me as she addresses Alaric. “I hope you have a better time with her ungrateful nature than I have. It seems Ella is in need of a rude awakening. She needs to learn what it requires to be a member of this family.”

Celeste walks around Alaric, giving me a final scathing look before she exits the room.

Alaric doesn’t say a word, marching to the door and locking it before turning to rest his back on the wood. “Fucking told you to stay away, Ella. I didn’t want you involved in any of this.” His hands fly to his head, and he pulls at the slicked-back strands of his hair with a groan. “Why the fuck can’t you do what you’re told?”

I nervously put one foot in front of the other as I approach him. Most people would be frightened of Alaric—a tall, brooding man who demands obedience from those around him with every fiber of his being. That and his disturbing and nonsensical Norman Bates relationship with his mother.

Our bodies line up closely, yet I sense an ocean between us. I don’t understand his anger or why he says I need to stay away when he keeps trying to get closer. Persuading me. He was the first person to drag me into this world and make me care about him, Asher, and River when I had no desire to do so.

I tilt my chin. “It looks like I’m crap at listening to you, so I think it’s time you told me what’s going on.”