Chapter 49

Vivian's POV

Dorian had told me I could sleep wherever I wanted, but after he left, I couldn’t sleep at all. I lay awake all night, contemplating what to do.

Was he inviting me to bed? Was he waiting for me in his room right now? If I went to him, would things return to how they were before?

Though I was still furious with him, part of me was tempted by the idea of falling into the familiar rhythm we had before I took that phone. I finally gathered the courage to tiptoe out of the guest room at dawn.

If he was lying in bed waiting for me, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to resist him.

Turns out, I didn’t need to. When I reached his room, the door was open and the bed was made. Either he hadn’t slept there or he was already up and gone for the day.

I swallowed my disappointment and padded into the bathroom.

The shower in the guest room was nice, but Dorian’s shower was straight out of Architectural Digest. The water pressure was a dream. I scrubbed my skin with his woodsy body wash twice. It was almost embarrassing how much I missed the smell of him.

Once I pulled myself out of the warm steam, I took my time getting ready. I blow-dried my hair, tamed my waves into manageable curls, and tried on and wiped off three different shades of lipstick before deciding to forgo it altogether. Then I stood in front of the closet, waiting for the perfect “I’m-trying-but-not-too-hard” outfit to leap out at me.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered as I sifted through my options. “Who cares what he thinks?”

I did. Very much.

There was a fleeting moment last night when he looked at me like he wanted to tie me to the bed and have his way with me.

Dorian might not want me around right now, but the attraction between us was still there. If I couldn’t have anything else, I wanted to remind him of that.

I settled on a pair of jeans and a cropped tank. The intricate straps of my bralette crisscrossed over my chest and wrapped around my neck. It was sexy but tasteful. Reserved.

Nailed it, babe.

I walked down the hallway for the first time in two days, feeling surprisingly confident.

Until I reached the kitchen.

There was a woman—no, a teenage girl—sitting at the island.

I stopped short. She was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t notice me staring. Which was fortunate, because the “Women Support Women” sticker on my laptop would not approve of the look on my face or the thoughts in my head.

The girl wore almost nothing. Her mini skirt could double as a headband, and her tiny tee might be too small for an actual infant. Plus, it was barely 8:00 A.M. Who needs a smoky eye and red lips at the breakfast table?

The girl finally looked up. Her expression remained unchanged. “Oh. Hi.”

She didn’t sound as surprised to see me as I was to see her. Maybe she was a regular visitor. Was there any chance she was here to see—

No. Absolutely not. She was a teenager. Dorian would never do that.

“Can’t even say ‘hello.’ Looks like my brother snagged a real genius,” she muttered, as if I couldn’t hear her.

Brother.

“Leonora,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. It was more out of relief than anything else.

“Who are you? Aside from my brother’s latest hookup.” She gave me a once-over. “Nice jeans. Didn’t realize bootcut was still a thing.”

God, teenagers were the worst.

I forced a smile, though I wanted to grab this little brat by the throat. “My name is Vivian. I’m staying here.”

“What does ‘staying here’ mean?” Leonora asked.

“It means what I said. I’m staying here.”

I walked to the pantry like I owned the place. Like I was a guest who knew her way around. Like I hadn’t spent the past two days locked in a bedroom.

If Leonora even believed I’d been in the house longer than a day, I’d be satisfied. With every second her attention was on me, my confidence seemed to drain away. It felt like walking past the cheerleaders in high school all over again.

“Are you two dating?”

I smiled sweetly. “As I said, I’m staying here. I’ll let your brother tell you anything more than that. I don’t want to overstep.”

She rolled her eyes. “Translation: you’re sleeping together. Good to know.”

Leonora was putting on a tough front, but I could see she was just as nervous of me as I was of her. I remembered what it was like to be a teenage girl.

I sat on a stool two seats away from her. “When did you get in from Moscow?”

Why are you here? When did Dorian decide he wanted you to live with him?

Was he ever going to tell me?

Last I knew, Dorian didn’t want Leonora here. He didn’t think it was safe for her. Clearly, a lot had changed in the last two days.

“Late last night.”

“You’re up early then.”

“Jetlag.” She glanced at me sideways. “Maybe you’re the reason he doesn’t want me staying here. Is he ashamed of you or something?”

Casually preying on my biggest insecurities. No big deal. I’m fine.

“Whatever your brother decides, it has nothing to do with me,” I told her. “But I doubt he’d tell you he doesn’t want you to stay here.”

Not to her face, anyway.

She snorted. “You should have seen him last night. Me showing up on his front porch wasn’t on his bingo card. He looked like he was about to be sick.”

Leonora’s unexpected arrival made more sense now.

He’d said his mother wanted her to stay, but he’d refused. Apparently, they went over his head. God help them.

“You got in last night?”

“Around midnight,” she mumbled, clutching a coffee mug tightly.

Around the time Dorian had let me out of the guest room.

He must have decided it wasn’t worth explaining to his sister why he had a woman confined in a guest bedroom. I might owe Leonora a thank you card. Her arrival might have earned me my freedom.

“He wants me on the first flight out today, but I already told him I’m staying.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I am not going to be kicked out of my own house because my brother wants to hook up with some random.”

Scratch the thank you card. I’ll show my gratitude by not shoving her tiny ass off her stool and kicking her into the stratosphere.

I took a deep breath and smiled. “You look a lot different than the picture I saw of you in Dorian’s office.”

“He has a picture of me in his office?”

“A few, actually. Of you and Adrian.”

“The Ice King has a heart. Who would have guessed?”

“He cares a lot about you. He just wants what’s best for you.”

Dorian and I might not be on the best terms, but I didn’t want to come between him and his family. Plus, I needed all the brownie points I could get right now.

“Really?” Leonora raised both brows.

I smiled gently. “Of course. He cares about you and wants—”

“No. I mean… really?” She scrunched up her nose. “I’m not going to tell him all the nice things you said about him when he wasn’t looking. He already slept with you. Stop being so desperate.”

My self-control, already strained by Leonora’s attitude, snapped.

I dropped my protein bar on the counter and turned to her. “Listen, I know you’re troubled and lashing out. ‘Hurt people hurt people’ and all that. But I’m not here to be your doormat. If you want to talk about why you’re really upset, go ahead. If not, maybe we should stop talking. For your sake.”

Her eyes widened.

For a moment, I thought tough love might be the answer.

Maybe no one had ever talked to Leonora like this. Maybe she just needed a firm hand, and I’d provided it. I was the one who got through to Dorian’s sister. I saved the day.

“You’re right. You’re not a doormat. You’re just the bitch my brother is sleeping with.” She stood up, a genuine smile on her face. “I’ll see you around. Or… probably not.”

With that, Leonora Delacroix grabbed her coffee and left me sitting alone, speechless.