Page 117 of A Vicious Love

Harrison dropped onto the sofa opposite me. “Also no.”

Marcel stopped pacing. “You need to fix this.”

I stared at him. “Fix what?”

“Emmie.”

I laughed once.

“That is your wife.”

“I know.”

“Your whole house confirms it.”

His mouth flattened.

Harrison looked amused. “We are in the room where Emmie wanted softer lighting because the other room made her anxious after sunset.”

Marcel glanced toward the lamps as if considering whether they were bright enough.

Jesus Christ.

I took another drink.

“Everyone has become too attached to Sienna,” I said. “That isn’t my problem.”

Marcel stared at me.

“Technically, it is your fault.” Harrison leaned back against the sofa.

“How?”

“You brought sunshine into our orbit for three years, then acted surprised when people got used to the warmth.”

“That sentence was disgusting.”

“I’ve been around Emmie too long.”

“No such thing,” Marcel said, too fucking quickly.

Harrison and I both turned toward him.

He did not look ashamed.

Some days, it was hard to remember my eldest brother was a cold blood murderer. The front doors opened before I could explain how far he had fallen.

Marcel moved immediately.

Emmie entered first with a shopping bag in one hand and her phone in the other. She wore a summer dress and the rose-gold collar at her throat.

Sienna came in behind her.

My attention found her before I had time to decide whether it should.

That irritated me.

Everything about Sienna irritated me lately.