Chapter 115 Chapter 115 Keys
“So they just took turns scolding all of you?” Dragon asks under his breath.
“Pretty much. My sister, me, my brothers. Then my aunt and uncles laid into my cousins, and then Illia tore into each one of his sons for one reason or another,” I whisper back.
We’re in the main dining hall now, sitting with the royal family. Actually having dinner this time. Dragon lifts his hand, and I grab it before he can touch the ruffles of my dress. I would love nothing more than to let him graze my tits, but everyone is watching us.
Dimitri’s eyes haven’t left me since our so-called “family dinner.” It came out that my father used to be Illia’s general, and apparently I’m some kind of secret weapon they all know about. I don’t understand that part. I was a broken kid handed a gun, and yeah—I shot people. Bad people. I guess that makes me a big deal. I am nothing compared to all the marks on Dimitri's chest.
My father even scolded Illia about his dumb rules regarding his men and his new general. The whole no romantic connection thing is new—obviously. My father has five children. Dimitri and I would have made "one hell of a couple" my father's words.
I hate the way he makes me feel.
And I still love him and his fucking brother.
My eyes drift back to my boyfriend. As soon as the dinner plates are cleared, he digs into his pocket. When his hand comes out, he’s holding a large turquoise box. He taps it against the table, spinning it between his fingers.
What the actual hell is that?
It’s too big to be an engagement ring.
Please don’t ask me to marry you.
He hands me the box. I hold it, suddenly afraid to open it. Silence falls over the room, heavy and expectant. I can feel everyone watching.
I suck in a sharp breath and pop it open.
A keychain.
With three keys.
“Move in with me?” he says, not even waiting for my answer. “My dad’s old place is finally done being renovated. You know the house in the historic part of town. It’s big, I know—but there’s room for the dog.”
Dragon leans closer, brushing my hair back, his hand settling at the nape of my neck.
“I love you. I want to wake up next to you every morning.”
I hesitate—just for a second.
I glance up, and Ivan’s eyes lock with mine. He looks… upset. Red around the edges.
At the far end of the table, my father and Illia are loud, laughing at someting dumb they are talking about. My gaze flicks to my father. He narrows his eyes at me, then drops his attention to the box in my hands.
I turn fully toward Dragon, shifting in my chair. I wish I hadn’t had so much to drink—I can feel the haze settling in.
“Yes.” I smile softly. “Yes.”
Dragon turns toward me, his knees sliding around mine. His hand grips the bottom of my chair, dragging me closer, and then his lips are on mine. His cold hand cups my face, and I melt into him as the room disappears.
Then—
My father clears his throat.
“Are we interrupting?” he asks as we pull apart.
Dragon slams his hand on the table and turns toward him. “Yeah. You are.”
Heat floods my body instantly, pooling low in my stomach. I’ve never heard him raise his voice like that before. My hand grips his thigh, and his hand covers mine, guiding it higher up his leg until—
Oh.
My face burns. I grab my water and take a long drink.
“Ooo, I like him,” my father laughs.
Illia nods along. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my father laugh this much sober.
“He reminds me of… what was the name of that boxer you were seeing?” My father taps his chin. “Matthews!”
He turns to Illia. “He stood up to me for her.”
Then his attention snaps back to us. “What do you do, Dragon? You’re Serbian, correct?”
Dragon explains, calm and steady, while my father continues to interrogate him about his life.
Suddenly, Roman storms into the room. He stops beside Stanislav—who’s sitting next to me.
“Move,” he demands.
My cousin stands and shifts over without a word. Roman drops into the seat beside me. Dragon squeezes my hand gently, reminding me he’s still here, even as he talks to my father.
“Why did you tell her?” Roman leans in, his voice low.
It clicks.
Gabby isn’t here. Neither was Roman.
My eyes scan the room—and then I see her walking in through the double doors.
“Why did you let her wear it?” I shoot back.
Dessert plates are set in front of us.
“She’s going to be my wife. It belongs to her.”
A quiet laugh tears out of me.
“It will always be mine.” I lean closer. “Mr. ‘I don’t double dip’—don’t let my cousin wear that. You cheated on her. You don’t deserve Gabby.”
I sit back. “Now fuck off.”
My cousin slips back into his seat beside me as Roman stiffens standing next to us.
I dig my fork into the dessert, cracking the chocolate shell. Inside is a rich, decadent cake topped with raspberries. The first bite melts on my tongue, flavor exploding in my mouth. I nearly moan, heat prickling across my skin.
“Have you given Elena any piercings?” my father’s voice echoes across the table.
Our entire side goes quiet.
Dragon glances at me. I shake my head no—but he just leans back, smiling.
“Yes, sir.”
Oh my fucking God.
Please don’t ask where.
Please.
What is this—the Elena show? I’m never coming to another one of these “family events” again.
Thankfully, he doesn’t ask. Instead, he makes some comment about me wearing black.
“That dress looks better in white,” Ivan mutters under his breath. “Like the one hanging in my closet.”
Rage spikes through me—sharp and immediate. I don’t know if it’s everything building up or the vodka, but I snap.
“Maybe Vladimira can wear it… oh wait—she has no tits!”
My chair screeches loudly against the floor as I stand. I don’t look at anyone as I storm toward the door, moving as fast as my heels will allow.
Once I’m outside, I finally breathe.
I lean against the wall, closing my eyes, focusing on steadying my breathing. I just want to go home.
The door opens behind me. Then closes.
“I think we should go to my secret place and leave this circus behind,” I say, exhaling slowly. “What do you think, babe?”
“Let’s go, honey,” Dimitri replies.