Empire of Desire(Empire #1)(28)

“Are you sure, Gwen?”

“Yeah.”

He stares at Nate, who’s still busy talking to Aspen, still plotting whatever those two plot when they’re together, then lowers his voice. “If you have a hard time with him, let me know.”

My attention shifts to Sebastian and I watch him closely. “And what are you going to do?”

“Stop him, of course.”

“He’s your uncle.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll blindly take his side.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So you’re, like, my ally now?”

“If you need one.”

Warmth floods me and I let a smile break on my lips as I touch his arm. “Thanks, Bastian.”

He’s about to say something when a shadow falls over us. Or me, to be more specific, because Sebastian is tall enough to escape it.

Me, though? I’m caught right underneath it, in the center of Nate’s overwhelming scrutiny. His gaze is so hard and sharp that I unconsciously squirm.

“Didn’t you say you were going back home?” Nate asks in that voice specifically designed to make people feel uncomfortable.

I did say that I wanted to sleep a little before I go back to see Dad. I’m skipping classes at this point because, what if something happens to him while I’m studying and I can’t get there fast enough? What if he stops sleeping and decides to go into that D-word phase?

“What’s the rush?” It’s Sebastian who asks with a shiny glint in his eyes. “Gwen and I were going to have coffee and catch up.”

We were? Not that I mind, but I’m really about to collapse. Insomnia and copious amounts of stress and anxiety and overthinking will do that to you. I’d go out with Sebastian under different circumstances, but I don’t think that’s physically possible right now.

“Gwyneth needs to rest and you have work to do.” Is it just me or is his voice harsher, stronger, almost like a whip?

Also, how does he know I’m at my physical limits? Does he see it in my sickly pale skin or my unfocused eyes? It’s the dark circles, isn’t it? Those suckers appear with a vengeance after white nights.

“In that case, I’ll take a rain check.” Sebastian pats my hand, which is still on his arm because I got distracted by Nate.

“Give me a ride, Sebastian,” Aspen says from the bottom of the stairs. I almost forgot she was there. Almost.

Nate grabs me by the elbow and pulls me back from his nephew. The act is so effortless that I feel like I’m floating on air as we leave the scene without another word.

Aspen gives me a look that I don’t know how to perceive. Is it pity? An apology? But why would she pity me or apologize to me? She’s not the type. She’s a witch.

Right, Dad?

“Where are we going?” I ask Nate once I’m a bit out of my daze. Only a bit, though, because I think those pills I crunched on like candy are starting to take effect.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a few minutes away from collapsing.”

So he did know about my exhaustion. Yikes. Am I that obvious to everyone else?

“I can take a cab. You said you were going back to the firm.”

“Since you were late, I rescheduled my morning meetings, so I don’t have anything until the afternoon.” He unlocks his car and steps to the driver’s side.

I roll my eyes. “Sorry for messing up your morning meetings, husband.”

He pauses with his hand on his door’s handle. “What did you just call me?”

“Husband. You know, when people get married, they become husband and wife.”

“Lose it.”

“Lose what?”

“That word. Lose it.”

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What I call you is up to me. Besides, we need to keep things authentic if we want Susan to believe it. She’s cunning, you know. It’s not by coincidence that Dad has been battling a lifetime of court cases against her.”

“Gwyneth,” he warns.

“You need to start calling me Gwen or something else for this whole thing to work.”

A cold smile paints his lips and I know I won’t like his next words even before he says them. He’s cruel that way, with absolutely no regard for others’ feelings. “How about kiddo?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“If you say so.”

“Is that what you still see me as? A kid?” I storm from my side of the car to stand in front of him. “Would a kid be able to marry you?”

“It’s a fake marriage.”

“Fake is an illusion, but this is real, tangible, touchable.”

I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches at that word. Touchable. One he made so clear that he doesn’t want to be part of this relationship.

“Step back.”

My cheeks must be hot crimson, because it’s only then that I realize I’m close to him. So close that I taste him on my tongue, so close that his warmth is wrapping around me like a blanket. Or, more accurately, a noose, because it’s suffocating me with each passing second.

Ordinarily, I’d give him back his safe space and go hide in mine, because isn’t that the right thing to do?