Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Chapter 51.

"No," Elaine cuts in. Her voice is steady, but there’s heat under it. "You don’t get to ’dear’ me five minutes after discussing my uterus like it’s a business asset."

A few heads turn nearby. I feel her pulse hammering where my hand rests on her waist.

Interesting.

My mother blinks once, then smiles thinly. "You’ll learn."

Elaine looks at me then. Searching my face for something. Support? Objection?. Anything.

I give her nothing.

The disappointment flashes across her expression before she masks it, quickly.

"We’re not discussing this further," I say, disengaging my arm from her waist. The absence of her warmth is immediate. And I fin it Annoying. "We’ll be leaving soon."

My mother studies me for a moment. "No honeymoon, then."

"No," I confirm. "We will return to the house."

Elaine’s head snaps toward me again. "The house."

"Yes."

She exhales slowly through her nose, clearly counting to keep from saying something regrettable.

"I hope," she says tightly, "that you realize how unbearable you are."

I meet her gaze. "I’m counting on it."

That does it.

She turns away from me, shoulders squared, chin lifted, stalking toward the edge of the room like she needs distance before she does something unreasonable.

My mother watches her go. "She has spirit."

"She has a temper," I correct.

"Same thing," she says, sipping her champagne. " I know you will break her in."

I don’t answer.

Because I’m not entirely sure that’s how this is going to go.

And the thought.....unwelcome and unsettling that she might fight harder than I expect lingers far longer than it should.

I few moments later, my best friend Donald walks up to me and leads me to the balcony outside, Donald is more of a brother to me than a friend, he was there through all of my worst moments, when I lost my siste, my fallout with Lucas, when the brotherhood turned on me, he was there through it all. So yeah we brothers more than friends.

The noise from inside barely reaches the balcony, muted music. People talking , Glasses clinking. A wedding continuing without me for a few minutes, and no one daring to question it.

Donald leans against the stone railing, jacket unbuttoned, his is tie loosened. He’s known me long enough to know when to shut up, and when not to.

The city stretches below us, shatp lights against the evening sky. I grip the cold stone with both hands and breathe. Once. Twice.

"So.....," he says finally. "When are you planning to activate the last clause."

I don’t look at him. "I’m not..... I don’t know yet."

A pause.

Donald hums quietly. "That’s not what your morher thinks."

"I don’t care what my mother thinks."

"You usually do."

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