Because I know that even if the word got out and Glyn caught a whiff of this, he’d spin the story to look completely innocent. I’ve seen the way he looks at her and I’m well aware he can’t afford to lose her, but he certainly can afford to hurt her brother irrevocably.
“Go ahead,” Landon says tonelessly and without emotion. “You can break the other one as well while you’re at it. But I’ll always touch her, even with casts on. She’s mine and neither of you motherfuckers will decide otherwise.”
I meet his cold eyes with my alarmed ones and shake my head frantically. What are you doing, you idiot?
He’s provoking Nikolai and the others. He must know they’re not the type to bluff. Especially not Nikolai.
Sure enough, Jeremy starts to twist and I scream so loud, everything comes to a halt. The world, my hoarse voice, and my surroundings.
Jeremy stops. He and Killian watch me as if I’m a wild animal who’s about to bite their heads off, which I probably should do.
Nikolai’s attention slides back to me, his expression taken aback.
“You’re finally looking at me now after you erased and silenced me?” I sign, feeling the burn in my eyes. “How can I talk to you if you don’t look at me?”
Some of the tension in his shoulders disappears as he steps toward me and grabs my arm. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean to.”
I push his hand away. “Let Landon go.”
“I can’t do that. He’s a venom that needs to be extracted by the roots—”
“I’ll leave him. I won’t associate with him again, so just let him go.”
“No, you won’t.” Landon fights against Jeremy’s grip for the first time since I came here. “Go ahead and break my fucking wrist, Jeremy.”
“Stay fucking still.” Jeremy struggles to keep him down.
“Remember, Cecily loved me first.” Landon’s voice turns eerily calm. Taunting, even. “She loved me so much that she fantasized about me and called me her prince. She loved me so much that she gave me heart eyes long before you came along. Not to mention, we used to bathe together as children. Fucking naked. You must really hate that you’ll always be second choice to me.”
“You little fucking—” Jeremy twists his wrist and Landon’s face scrunches, but he doesn’t release any sounds.
One moment, I’m standing beside Nikolai, the next, I’m kicking Jeremy’s arm. He’s so taken aback that he loses his grip on Landon’s wrist.
I help him up and he stands to his feet. However, his arm remains limp by his side.
“Is it okay?” I sign, gulping the lump in my throat.
Landon doesn’t even check if his wrist is okay as he grabs my cheek with his good hand. “You’re not going any-fucking-where. You understand me?”
“Leave,” I sign.
“I’m going to fucking kill this motherfucker.” Nikolai comes close, but I shake my head at him.
“Just go.” I push Landon toward the door.
He doesn’t even take one step.
“Brandon is outside,” I sign. “He could be in danger, too.”
His upper lip lifts in a snarl and he tsks. “What the fuck is that busybody doing here?”
“He’s worried about you. Please go, Landon. For me. Please.”
I have no doubt that if he stays here one more minute, he’ll provoke them again and they’ll make good on their threat to break his wrist.
“You’re never leaving me and we won’t be over,” he says, ignoring everyone else present as he kisses me in a brief passionate kiss. All I taste is blood as Killian pushes him off me.
And then he’s out the door.
I release a long breath, then I glare at the three guys I thought were closest to me.
“What?” Killian says. “You should’ve known this was coming. That motherfucker did a lot worse to us.”
“There’s nothing worse than breaking an artist’s fucking wrist, Killian! Put yourself in his shoes. How would you have survived your medical career if your own wrist was broken?”
“You need to stop defending the bastard, Mia,” Jeremy says.
“Not when all of you are ganging up on him.”
“Why is Brandon here?” Nikolai asks out of nowhere.
“What?” I sign.
“Just now, you said Brandon is here. Why is he?”
“He texted me that you could’ve been hurting Lan, which turned out to be true, so I told him to meet me here. I’m glad I did. At least he can give Lan a ride.”
“Mia…” He growls as he barges toward me.
“I’m going home,” I announce. “To New York. I obviously don’t have any rational support here. Maya lied to me and you shut me up.”
He curses under his breath as I push past him toward the door.
Maybe talking to Mom and Dad is my best chance to protect the fragile happiness sand castle I’ve been building.
35
MIA
Home has always been my sanctuary. A place in which I can unplug and be myself.
Not that I’ve found trouble being myself everywhere else, but whenever I’m in the presence of Mom and Dad, I feel like a kid again. Maybe childishly so.
The second Maya and I step through the door, we’re greeted by Mom’s radiant face. She’s dressed in an elegant knee-length burgundy dress with a belt that enhances her hourglass shape. An off-white jacket rests on her shoulders, giving her a sophisticated edge.
Her eyes glitter in a dreamy blue as she engulfs me in a bear hug. As soon as I inhale her warmth, the urge to burst into tears hits me out of nowhere.
All of a sudden, I’m that little girl who was trapped in the darkness with no way out. This moment is similar to when she and Dad found me.
I felt the same sense of crippling emotion when he personally came to pick me up at the airport after our private jet landed.
Yes, my parents have a private jet. It was actually Mom’s wedding anniversary gift from Dad. He got a lot of shit from Grandpa about it, but Dad told him he’s the reason their family has so much money in the first place, so if he decides he’ll buy his wife a plane or the moon itself, he has no say in it.
Grandpa Mikhail is more old-fashioned than the English monarchy, but he’s been present our entire lives. While he clashes with Dad sometimes, they actually get along pretty well. Mom said they found each other late in life, so that’s probably why Grandpa dotes on us more than his other grandkids. He’s spoiled us rotten since we were young and has never hidden the fact that we’re his favorites.
He learned sign language for me at an old age and often invited us over, despite having countless other grandchildren.
So it’s no surprise that he also accompanied Dad to the airport. Grandpa said that he wanted to see ‘his girls’ first. He received a call about some trouble one of my uncles is causing and we separated at the airport, but not before he told us we need to spend a day or two with him before we go back to the ‘tasteless’ Brits.
He and Dad definitely agree that we should’ve stayed on US soil so they could keep an eye on us.
My fingers dig into Mom’s back, probably harder than needed. But she doesn’t complain and even strokes my hair. “I missed you so much. I can’t believe I haven’t hugged my babies for months on end.”
“My turn.” Maya basically pushes me away so she can hug Mom.
Dad wraps an arm around my shoulder and I hug his waist, leaning my head on his chest. Since a young age, Dad has always had a smart, casual style and he rocks suits, like his current black Armani, better than a model. Whenever he and Mom are in public, they attract more attention than celebrities.
It’s part of the reason why I prefer not to go out with them much. Maya, however, is all over that crap, considering she needs attention as much as air.
I crave my parents' company in private, though. Being surrounded by them offers me a much-needed escape from my head. So I tighten my hold on my dad. He smells like cedarwood and safety. This scent reminds me of when they first found me in that basement. As Dad carried me in his arms, I hid my face in his chest and remained so still, I don’t remember even blinking.
It took me a few minutes to fill my lungs with him and realize it was finally over.
Or was it really?
It wasn’t over. Not then.
Not now.
Mom pulls away from Maya to stroke her face. “You girls have grown so much. You look absolutely radiant.”