The Secret (The Evolution Of Sin Book 2) (22 page)

He sighed. “It is the haunting I take issue with, Elle, not what I did to warrant it.”

We were silent for a long moment. I didn’t have anything new to add to the conversation. The affair had happened and arguably, was still happening. It was deeply immoral, not only to deceive another person – in fact, my entire family – but because we were actively, consciously betraying my sister. I loved Sinclair with a severity that obliterated all obstacles in its path and he, at least, was enchanted enough with me to heed my siren’s song over the practical call of reality. Apparently, he had even voiced his reservations to Elena.

I knew the components, I just couldn’t make out the full equation.

Sin spun around, one hand plunged into my hair and the other on my hip, pressing me up against the fridge. He pressed his forehead hard into mine. “I’m not going to do this anymore. Do you understand?”

I didn’t, so I remained quiet.

“I will not put the people I love through this for one second longer. Regardless of you and me, what kind of person would do this to their partner?”

Again, I didn’t know, so I remained quiet.

He sighed heavily, ran his thumb across my cheekbone to take the sting out of his anger and impatience. “I’m not going to do this anymore, Elle. Do you understand?”

This time, I nodded even though I still wasn’t certain what he meant.

The delicate chime of the doorbell sounded out and Sinclair’s jaw clenched fiercely when I moved to answer it. His hands flexed against my skin painfully before letting go.

I answered the door to find Sebastian speaking with a young woman who was delivering the alcohol Elena had ordered. Sebastian was speaking to her easily, taking the bags from her and handing them off to me so that they could take a selfie together. I watched as he whispered something in her ear that made her burst into unattractive and beautifully genuine laughter. Mama and I smiled at each other as they said their helloes.

“You charmer,” I teased Sebastian as he leaned down to give me the customary kisses.

“Yes, Seb, are all the older ones taken?” Elena said as she breezed into the living room, now wearing a lovely black sheath dress. I could smell her Chanel perfume as she swooped in to give him a kiss.

“Elena,” Mama chastised while embracing Seb herself.

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “It was a joke.”

“It’s all right, Mama, Elena has never had a very good sense of humor,” Sebastian said as he swung off his leather jacket, tossed it onto the side table and grabbed my hand to tug me further into the apartment.

“Hang up your coat, you ape,” Elena called after us before we disappeared around the corner into the kitchen.

Sinclair was still there, decanting the mandatory red wine while he listened to someone on his phone.

“I want at least three options by the end of next week, Margot,” he was saying as we swept into the kitchen.

Sebastian grabbed the extra bottle from Sin’s hand and poured himself an overfull glass.

I raised my brows. “Tough day?”

His shoulders were nearly at his ears with tension and I watched as he tugged his hands through his hair so that it stuck up at funny angles. “Tate wants to produce my film.”

“And that’s a problem because?”

He didn’t answer me immediately; instead, he leaned against the fridge and stared out the window into the darkening cityscape.

“Rumor is, she’s sleeping with Jace Galantine.”

I winced because even I knew who Jace Galantine was, award-winning actor, modelizer and all-round stud. He graced the cover of so many magazines, gossip rags and movie posters that I hardly went a day without seeing his gorgeous face plastered to something.

“I’m sorry, Seb,” I murmured, placing a hand on his tensed arm. “I mean, she is married too so how much more can this hurt?”

I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left my lips.

He swung his vibrant gaze to me and glared. “Well, I guess I know where you stand on infidelity.”

I bit my lip and focused on not looking over at the silent Sinclair currently assembling the meal from Dean & Deluca’s onto serving plates.

“I’m sorry,” Elena said as she came into the kitchen with Mama’s arm tucked through her own. “I wouldn’t have invited Savannah if I knew you two were fighting.”

“What?” Sebastian snapped, rounding on her like a provoked bear.

I placed a gently restraining hand on him again and spoke softly, “Why would you invite Savannah Richardson?”

“She is a good friend, no?” Mama asked. “She used to come for the dinners always and now, we never see her.”

I peered up at Sebastian. His face was deeply etched with pained anger and I suddenly understood the need for Sinclair’s perfectly composed mask; how horrible it must be for Sebastian to have his emotions so clearly displayed for others to see.

Elena noted it with triumph, a sly smile corrupting her pretty mouth. “Should I call and ask her not to come, Sebastian? Her husband is away on business so she would be banished to a Thanksgiving dinner for one…”

I squeezed his bicep and watched him swallow hard before saying, “You’ve already asked her. We wouldn’t want to be rude by uninviting her now.”

Elena nodded curtly but her lips twitched down and I wondered, not for the first time, how she could be so callous towards her own family.

“Why doesn’t everyone sit down?” Sinclair suggested. “The food is hot, the wine is breathing and the last of our party should arrive soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Sebastian shrugged off my hand to go answer it. I followed behind him, eager to escape the messy atmosphere left over like an oil spill in the kitchen.

“Cosima,” I cried out, when I saw her step through the door and into Seb’s enthusiastic embrace.

Despite my cry, the twins hugged silently for a long minute, dissolving into each other more and more with each second as the tension they had both been holding dissipated. There was that deep understanding of another person that I so badly craved. It didn’t need to be romantic but the closest I had ever come to elementally knowing some one like that was with Sinclair and as I thought of him, a yawning abyss of loneliness blossomed in my heart.

I noticed someone emerge from the other room in my periphery and turned slightly, surprised to see Elena standing mute in the other doorway. Her expression was soft, almost soggy with longing and I knew it reflected the same emotions in my own face. I didn’t feel a kinship with her over our mutual exclusion though, mostly because I had spent years trying to encourage the same closeness between us and only been met with failure.

“
Mia famiglia
,” Cosima cried, as she stepped away from Sebastian and grinned at the rest of us. “It wouldn’t be quite the party without me, would it?”

She stepped forward to embrace me next and spoke softly, for my ears only. “And I had to rescue my sister from spending another night here, hmm?”

I tried not to stiffen at her insinuation but she only laughed and squeezed my frozen shoulders reassuringly before moving on to kiss the next family member.

Within minutes, everyone was listening raptly to the story she told about a frazzled mother’s young children asking to braid her hair into corn rows on the flight, and the previous uneasiness in the apartment was banished by laughter.

Dinner proceeded without a hitch and I don’t know who was most surprised by it. Savannah Richardson arrived demurely, Sebastian was able to keep his calm and react neutrally, even excellently, to her presence by becoming the life of the party. After an initial comment about the food not being as excellent as her own, Mama settled into her matriarchal spotlight with good grace and bantered hilariously with Cage and Santiago who both seemed to delight in flirting outrageously with her.

Even Elena was quiet, smiling instead of contributing, even though I knew Cage’s outrageous arrogance and bawdy humor grated on her nerves. She sat beside Sinclair and at one point, reached over to take his hand but otherwise, the two didn’t talk. It didn’t give me much hope because Sinclair barely looked my way and instead, spent most of the evening talking to Cosima. I felt a curious kind of jealousy when she made him laugh.

We had already presented the pie and tiramisu when the first bomb dropped.

“Katarina would love to be here for your showing, Elle,” Santiago said to me, his grin wide with pride as we spoke about my upcoming showcase. “I will have to fly her out specially.”

“I would love to see her,” I admitted. “And not just because she would make sure you didn’t wear this awful Chartreuse blazer again.”

He laughed, drawing attention to our side conversation.

“How do you know Kat?” Elena asked casually.

And that was when I realized we should not have been talking about Mexico at the dinner table.

“Um…” Sweat broke out across my brow but surprisingly enough, Cosima stepped in to save me.

“They met in Mexico,” she exclaimed with just enough enthusiasm. “Giselle was feeling a little lonely so I sent her Iago’s information.”

“Where did you stay, Giselle?” Savannah asked.

My mouth open and closed but again, Cosima saved me by saying, “I recommended the Westin. Sinclair, weren’t you there too? I’m surprised you two didn’t cross paths.”

Savannah laughed lightly. “It’s a small world we live in.”

“Yes,” Elena said immediately, leaning forward in her seat to smile sweetly. “Savvy did I hear that Tate is producing Seb’s new film?”

I watched Savannah round eyes widen with shock. “I wasn’t aware he was interested, but I’m not surprised. Sebastian is wildly creative.”

My brother snorted softly but refrained from retorting. I tried to curb my selfish relief at the turn in conversation but I couldn’t resist looking over at Sinclair who was looking at me with those fathomless blue eyes.

“Weren’t you considering Jace Galantine for a role?” Elena continued, casually taking a sip of her wine.

Sebastian grew still, his fists clenched in his lap while Savannah’s comically wide eyes blinked owlishly.

“Giselle, how is the exhibition shaping up?” Cage asked, his black eyes sparkling with rage as they swept over Elena and on to me.

Elena pouted slightly, her attempt to derail the evening once again rerouted but I had no doubt that she would find something disparaging to say about my artwork too.

“Very well, thank you. I’m nearly finished and Sebastian was one of the best big brothers a girl could ask for, he sent me Kayla Kensington and my friend Stefan Kilos is visiting specifically to be apart of the showcase.” I laughed. “He was offended that he wasn’t my first call.”

“Stefan Kilos, the Greek shipping magnate?” Elena asked with her eyebrows raised in a haughty semblance of respect, as if she couldn’t believe her dubious bohemian sister could have such a connection.

“Exactly the one.”

“Will he stay with you?” Sinclair asked coolly, his eyes focused on Elena’s hand as he ran his thumb along the back of it.

My heart twisted painfully but I fought to keep my expression neutral. When had the dinner table turned into such a passive aggressive war zone? 

“What the hell are those?” Sebastian asked loudly, leaning over the table to grab Cosima’s outstretched hand as she accepted a new bottle of wine from Santiago.

She tried to wrench her hand out of his grip but his other hand snatched her wrist and shoved down her long sleeve to reveal deeply purple bruises encircling her forearm.

Everyone gasped but Cosima stood up without embarrassment and snapped her arm away. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“
Nothing that concerns me
,” Sebastian mocked in a high imitation. “You are kidding me. I think my sister wearing such ugly bruises would obviously concern me.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted between clenched teeth.

I could see the anger rise in her like a tsunami, the receding calm before the rush of vicious fury.

“Cosima,” Mama tried, “who does this to you?”

“No one.”

“Cosima–” Elena said.

“No. I do not want to talk about this. I’m fine. Nothing was done against my will.”

“What can you mean?” Mama asked.

My eyes snapped to Sinclair and the same horrified understanding dawned in his eyes.

“I liked what was done to me, understand?” Cosima explained haughtily. Her chin jutted forward like an arrogant boxer’s, daring someone to hit her with censure. “These are reminders of pleasure, not abuse. It is no concern of yours anyway, but especially because these,” she bared her bruised wrists, “do not concern me.”

Awkward silence reigned at the table as her meaning sunk in. Despite my own experience with mild pain in the bedroom, the livid color of her markings scared me. Sinclair had never deliberately hurt me, his spankings were just firm enough to entice, and I couldn’t imagine true pain ever entering into our partnership. The idea of Cosima brutally bound as she must have been to incur those bruises made me angry despite myself.

“I will kill him,” Sebastian growled.