Page 40 of Kings & Queen

My heart pounded witha steady mix of anticipation and lingering resentment. I guided Allison forward, keeping my face light and trying to conceal my emotions. Though my gaze couldn’t help but be drawn to Kinsley—my little love. As usual, she was radiant, her grace as bewitching as ever.

Her thick hair was elegantly pulled up, exposing the gentle curve of her neck. No doubt it was intentionally done for Alek. He was forever attached to it like a fucking baby to its mama’s tit. I wanted to rip it down just to piss him off and see if she’d leave it howIliked it.

Wisps of hair framed her delicate face, and the longing in her expression nearly floored me. It took every ounce of willpower I had to tear my eyes away, to remind myself of what happened between us. I’d brought Allison tonight for the pettiest reason and didn’t give a shit if every man in attendance could see right through my actions. Not a damn one of them would call me on it—not in front of my parents, anyway.

I introduced Allison to the Caruso family and watched as my parents and she exchanged pleasantries. I purposefully ignored Kinsley. Allison, sensing my reluctance to even acknowledge her, shifted subtly. Her eyes flicked toward the only woman who had ever ignited a fire within me.

Allison was too kind and wouldn’t be comfortable intentionally leaving anyone out. It wasn’t like this was a proper date. The parameters of her being with me tonight were laid out hours before. She thought this was a work-related evaluation.

Although she’d passed all our standards with flying colors, I knew she’d be the safest person to ask to join me tonight. A flicker of understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood the assignment, yet part of her remained true to her own character.

“Good evening,” she greeted Kinsley, her voice laced with warmth and genuine concern.

Kinsley responded with a barely audible “Hi,” her voice tinged with a mix of emotions that fed into my sick and twisted heart.

As she looked at Allison, unmistakable jealousy tightened its hold on her. It was evident in the subtle furrow of her brow and the guardedness in her stormy eyes as she stared at us. I recognized that look all too well—it was the same one that had haunted her when she walked in on us in Seattle.

Playing my hand, I let my fingers trail down Allison’s back and rested them on the curve of her ass, where I rubbed small circles. Kinsley fixated on the movement. She swallowed hard, her delicate throat constricting under the weight of pain. In that moment, all the fucked-up parts of me couldn’t help but find a sick, perverse satisfaction in this charade. I relished the power it gave me over the little shit.

“Well, let’s get dinner going and catch up, shall we?” my mother said, drawing Kinsley’s attention.

We walked to the elaborate dining hall. My parents had gone all out. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Kinsley’s face as she stared in awe at the rich details. They bounced from the wallpaper to the linen on the table, which spoke to my family’s wealth and status. I was so glad that all the pictures of Vanya were on the third floor or in my mother’s memory books.

A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Alek or Nik had even mentioned our sister to her. A pang of sadness settled in my heart.What would Vanya have thought of Kinsley?For years, our twin bond had remained strong, even in her absence.

It was strange because even though she eventually came home to us, a part of me couldn’t let her go. I still felt her in the core parts of me, even if it was reduced to memories. Shifting my attention to the name cards adorning the plates, I steered Allison next to me.

I’d called ahead and told my mother I was bringing someone, ensuring she’d have a spot. Everyone else shuffled around, finding their seats. Nik and Alek exchanged a look, making me want to laugh. My mother was on a mission. She’d made a bold statement with the cards, sitting Kinsley between Marcel and Sebastian.

I made a big show of pulling Allison’s chair closer so I could touch her. Digging deep, I focused on the blond beauty next to me.

“So, Kinsley, how long have you been here in London? I know my sons mentioned you left Seattle rather suddenly,” my father asked, making polite conversation.

She looked like a small animal in panic mode. I’d bet a hundred dollars neither of my brothers had even taken a minute to discuss what she should or shouldn’t say. Fools, leaving her to make it up on the go. I sat back. This would be entertaining, if nothing else.

She cleared her throat. “My old dance partner invited me last minute to join him on his tour. We talked at length about reconnecting, so I decided to join him.”

“You’re a dancer, then?” His eyebrows shot up, and he looked over at Alek. I wanted to laugh at the look of regret on her face.

Our father was perfectly aware we owned a strip club in Seattle and an escort agency here. He was also aware we were embarking on the BDSM club venture. He probably thought Kinsley was a stripper—or worse.

“Yes, Pasha—my dance partner—has actually secured me an audition at École de Danse de l’Opéra National de Paris,” she lied, scrambling desperately, trying to make a better impression.The Paris Opera Ballet School.

Alek and Nik exchanged a look of surprise, while Sebastian grinned slyly and Marcel cleared his throat.

“Oh, you dance ballet? I remember seeing you dance at the gala event, but I had no idea,” my mother offered.

“She’s a brilliant dancer, Mother,” Alek said, grinned like a fucking idiot.

“So brilliant, but I don’t recall ever seeing her actually dance ballet. Let’s hope for our sake you get in. When is that happening?” I asked, unable to keep the harshness from my tone. I threw back my first drink of the evening.

My question, especially given my tone, made things awkward. I wanted to bask in her heartbreak. To lay bare the reality of the fractures of our intimacy. She refused to share her past with me and, as childish as it was, I wanted her to hurt.

She dug deep and found a semblance of composure, acting as if I hadn’t spoken. It seemed as though she was finally taking my request from this morning to heart. Raising her chin in defiance, she stared my way. An intense, unyielding challenge brewed in her eyes.

My displeasure simmered beneath the surface. The beast inside grappled with the realization she was deliberately ignoring me. “Answer the question. How much longer?”

That spark of defiance danced across her face. The tension between us thickened. Then Marcel came to her rescue—as if she needed it. Little did he know.