Page 127 of The Silent War

I can’t. It’ll be late.

Bastion: You sure everything’s okay?

Yes. I’m sorry.

I locked the screen before I could change my mind. My reflection stared back, polite. But my fingers were trembling.

This wasn’t something I could tell them in a message.I’m engaged. To Alaric Vale.The words would hurt differently when spoken aloud, but they would still cut.

My stomach twisted. I thought of the random hair ties I’d seen on their counter. The jewelry sketches on their table. The spare bedroom lined with racks of women’s clothes.

I’d turned a blind eye when Luca’s phone lit with security alerts mention her. I’d ignored the thread on Bastion’s, detailedinstructions to a driver:Make sure the car is warm. She doesn’t like the cold.

Signs everywhere they had another woman. Signs I chose not to see. They weren’t mine to keep. Just mine to have in secret. And I was their secret, for as long as they kept me.

Now I couldn’t. The nausea rose in my throat. I pressed my hand to my stomach, forced myself to breathe slow.

Tonight, I would sit at a table with Alaric Vale. Smile when expected. Raise my glass when Alexander gestured. Pretend I hadn’t promised dinner to the only men I still wanted.

And when the night ended, I’d have to find the strength to tell them the truth.

Until then, I wore the mask.

Because that was what dynasty daughters did.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

EMILIA

Alaric Vale sat to my right, posture straight, jacket cut sharp, every movement deliberate. His father was across from us, already deep in conversation with my uncle.

Alaric turned slightly toward me, his voice even. “Emilia, how was your day?”

“It was fine. How was yours?” I answered smoothly, folding my napkin across my lap. He didn’t ask because he cared, he asked, so we could direct the conversation back to him. Where it would stay for the rest of the night.

“My days will be better when I’m out of that hotel. The building seems to hate me.” he said, eyes sweeping the room.

“How are you liking Villain?” I smiled faintly.

“My father thought it time I begin handling matters here myself. Villain is… instructive.”

“That’s a diplomatic way to put it,” I said, tilting my head.

He smiled slightly. “And what word would you choose?”

“Unforgiving,”

His eyes lingered on me, assessing. “Then it will suit me.”

The servers arrived then, placing plates before us, silver lids.

I forced a polite smile, but my chest ached. I should have been upstairs, listening to Bastion curse at a pan while Luca tried to chop herbs with surgical precision. Dinner with them, not this performance.

“Have you ever tasted osso buco, Emilia?” Alaric asked.

“No, I don’t think I have.”

He l lifted his fork halfway between us. “Come here.”