Chapter 140

Something childish in me wanted to just yell at Evan to go away when he knocked softly on my bedroom door early in the morning.

But I’m not a child. I slipped on a robe and opened the door. He was standing a few feet away in the hallway, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, shaking his head.

I frowned. “Good.” My voice came out sounding harsh and Evan blushed, turning his eyes to the ground. “Why don’t we go take a walk and get some coffee,” I said. “I’ll get dressed real quick and meet you downstairs, okay?”

He nodded and walked away as I closed my door again and did as promised, throwing on some jeans and a sweatshirt before following him down.

“The bakery?” Evan was by the front door, lacing up his running shoes. I nodded. And we were outside a minute later, walking side by side in tense silence.

“I just thought it would be good to talk about it,” I said, breaking the ice. “Get back on the same page.” I looked over at my brother. He was looking firmly forward, not meeting my eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t know, Yena. All I can think to say is I’m sorry, again. It was wrong of me to do that.”

“I appreciate that, but Evan… you and me. We’re… family. Right? We’re going to be okay the way things are with us?”

He nodded up and down dramatically. “I was being crazy, Yena. I’m so sorry, and I’m over it, I promise you.”

“You’re over it?”

“I just mean, I heard you. You told me off and I know you’re right about all of it. I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise. You were right… it was none of my business.”

I looked over and saw that Evan’s face matched his somber tone of voice. He was obviously sincere.

He really believed that he was over it.

I was not so sure.

I sighed. “Listen, we’re gonna fly out on Saturday morning. And, um, maybe you should know beforehand that we’re going to be taking a private jet.”

Evan’s pace slowed down. It looked like he was tempted to stop in his tracks, but then forced himself back into motion. “Okay,” he said slowly. “And I’m guessing that’s something Nolan set up.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s for security. But also, it should make for a lot more comfortable ten-hour flight, you know?”

Evan looked forward, his face hard as stone. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “Sounds great.”

ADAN

“Of course, sir,” came the voice on the intercom, confirming Adan’s breakfast – a double Bloody Mary with a strip of bacon – was being prepared as they spoke and would be upstairs in less than two minutes.

Adan paced out onto his balcony, wearing only black silk pajama pants that hung loose on his hips, and placed a cigarette between his lips. The mountain air hit his skin and pressed a chill into his body, waking up his senses. He lit his cigarette and sucked down half of it in one big, long breath in.

He was mid-exhale, smoke still trailing out his lips as one of his kitchen staff members appeared beside him, holding out on a tray… a Bloody Mary with a strip of bacon, and a spear of olives.

He turned to face the servant and blew the rest of the smoke in his lungs out into the man’s face.

The servant took a stammering step backward and choked back a cough, averting his eyes.

“Why are there olives in my breakfast?” Adan asked dryly.

The man’s eyes darted up to the big red cocktail he was carrying, and a round look of horror struck them. “Oh, I am so sorry, sir, I forgot to check, after the, um, the…”

Adan stubbed out his cigarette on the balcony railing and smashed the butt into an ashtray calmly. Then he took the drink off the tray with one hand. Pulled out the skewer of pimento-stuffed green olives that had been placed into the beverage as a garnish. And held it out to the servant.

“You eat them,” he said, smiling. “Go on.”

The man looked at him first with a look of confusion. Then mild understanding washed over his features. He took the tiny wooden spear from Adan and slid one olive off, placed it into his mouth, closed his lips, and started chewing.

“Just one?” Adan asked, frowning. “Come on. Eat them all. I insist. Now.” The last word came out with the punch of a wild dog’s bark.

The servant paused mid-chew, looking regretfully at the four other olives on the skewer. Then he looked up at Adan, who now smiled. Then he slid all the olives off and stuffed them into his mouth, one at a time.

“Go,” Adan said, as soon as the doleful servant’s mouth was packed full. And the man clutched his empty tray and disappeared.

Adan ate his bacon and sucked down his cocktail in one big, long drink.

His phone was chiming right as he picked it up, thinking to check whether Yena had finally responded to him yet. For a fraction of a second, he thought it would be her.

It was not. But it was the PI he’d hired to follow her.

The text directed Adan to check his email for encrypted photos. He sat down at his computer and opened it up. Waited a few seconds for the file to load.

Nolan.

Adan’s little brother. Yena’s supposedly about-to-be-ex-husband. He was there at Yena’s parents’ house, standing in the front doorway. Yena was inches away from him, her arms folded across her chest, and the two of them were gazing longingly into each other’s eyes.

Adan huffed out a loud, angry breath. Then growled, slamming his palm down flat against the desk, making everything on top of it rattle.

Not only was Yena not responding to him. Not telling him her plans, like he thought he’d be able to get her to. Not doing anything for him. But she was also apparently immune to all of Adan’s efforts to poison her against the prince.

He paced his bedroom, shaking his head. He had always prided himself on his superior intelligence and unfailing ability to manipulate anyone. Yena would just not comply. And Adan didn’t like the way that made him feel.

He marched downstairs and into the kitchen, where his staff was waiting, idle. They knew he would be coming.

“Who made my breakfast this morning?”

A petite brunette girl in the center of the group, wearing a crisp, freshly pressed white shirt under her apron, bowed her head and raised her hand hesitantly into the air.

Adan cast a glance across the rest of the group and nodded to the side, dismissing them. They hurried away. Then he took a few steps forward. Glanced to the side and casually slid a big kitchen knife out of a wood block. Flipped it skillfully in his hand, catching the handle and smiling.

“I am so sorry,” he said to the girl, whose eyes were still downcast.

She was now holding her hands clasped tightly together in front of her, amusingly making Adan think she might be praying.

“But you are of course fired.” He flipped the knife in his hand again and then, in one smooth motion, threw it over the girl’s head. It landed, straight on, in the door of the refrigerator behind her.