“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, lifting a subtle eyebrow at Raiden’s scrutiny. “I have the most basic sense of contract spirit. Once I make a promise, I intend to honor it.”
He remains quiet, but there are notes of confusion that rattle between his eyes.
“…Tomorrow, I will have my lawyer draft the terms of our contract–our marriage.” Raiden’s voice is menacing, low, edged with warning.
“There is no backing out, Siena. This is the end of us… And
I say, “Sure, I will check it. And?”
Raiden watches me a moment longer. His body is rigid, stressed.
Raiden, “..
Raiden, “…And nothing. The car is ready. Come here Lila.”
He looks… annoyed?
But I’d rather return to my pack as soon as possible, and discuss our debt crisis with my members. I turn to face the exit, my possible escape from the pandemonium this evening has brought forth.
Then, a small voice cuts in.
“Siena, I…”
Lila.
She steps forward, hands clasped together as if in prayer, her eyes shimmering with false remorse. “I need you to know, I…I never meant to take him from you… Raiden. I feel…so terrible.”
The old me might have snapped, might have let my emotions twist and rise to the surface, but not now. Not anymore. I smile instead, tilting my head.
“Oh?” I say, “So you still know he’s my husband?”
Lila flinches. Her carefully composed mask cracks for the briefest moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“You-!”
She cuts herself off, clenching her jaw. But I’ve already seen it–that brief flicker of frustration, of something less innocent lurking beneath the softness she so carefully projects.
Raiden glances between us, clearly surprised.
I turn on my heel and walk away, without giving them another glance.
When I arrive home, the air is thick with the scent of brewing tea and the faint, distant sound of a news broadcast.
My best friend, Ollie, is already sprawled on my couch, flipping through glossy pages of gossip magazines, her expression dark with irritation.
“You won’t believe the trash they’re printing.” She waves one of the magazines at me before tossing it onto the coffee table.
1/3
08:34 Sun, 20 Apr.
Chapter 10
“They’re painting fifa as warme kind of tragle, innen von caught in the mug eh pur aut Rado
I don’t react. Of course they are. Lila is the picture perfect mage of a disces in dierence, and if I’m the ran the cry
It doesn’t matter what the truth is
