Page 57 of Coveted

I know damn well she doesn’t have a brother, but I must tread with extreme care here. One slip-up, and she’ll realize the extent of my enthusiasm for knowing every shred of information about her.

The police reports were easy to get my hands on. Write-ups from social workers and medical providers were trickier.

“My father left when I was very young,” she says. “I don’t remember him. My mother had a boyfriend during my high school years. Russell. But he… wasn’t the protective kind.”

That’s putting it mildly. I’ve read the police reports.

“You didn’t get along with him?” I ask in a neutral tone.

“He didn’t get along with anyone, except his drinking buddies at the local bar.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s old hurt in her voice too.

Though I know this information already, hearing it from her is different to reading it off a screen. More raw and real. It almost makes me feel bad for taking the details before being offered them.

I wait, silently urging her to say more. I want to know everything and I want it from her beautiful mouth.

She keeps going. “My mom felt like she couldn’t leave him because⁠—”

CHAPTER 14

Sadie

Coming to my senses, I abruptly fall silent mid-sentence.

Why am I telling Lucan about my family? It’s none of his business. The coziness of the hidden reading room lulled me into a false sense of security.

He wouldn’t understand anyway, because our worlds are light-years apart. He lives in this palace. He doesn’t know how it feels to be trapped by circumstances.

I toss my long braid over my shoulder. “Anyway. You don’t want to hear about that.”

The razor-focused look on Lucan’s face tells me he does, but I say nothing more.

“Fine,” he says. “We can talk about it another day.”

“How kind of you.”

“Speaking of my kindness, I have something of yours.” He reaches into his pocket. “Something I need to return to you.”

My stomach tenses. What would he have of mine? The only time we’ve been alone was last night at Altar.

Then I realize, and I look away in shame.

My goddamn underwear. He has them, and now he wants to embarrass me by giving them back while I’m trapped in a small room with him.

“I don’t want them,” I say.

I should’ve known he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to toy with me. It’s what he does.

It’s all he does.

Offering his armory was probably an excuse to get me here and humiliate me again.

From the corner of my eye, I see him hold out his hand. Curiosity gets the better of me and I take a peek.

My chest contracts in surprise and grief.

“The photo from my locket,” I say. “You kept it?”

“It was too important to send in a package,” he says thoughtfully, like he weighed the decision with care. “I wanted to make sure you got it.”