“No, but we can stop for something if you want,” Tavia assured me, her eyes going to Monroe with concern. “What would you like? I’ll even have the driver go through a fast-food line if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not hungry,” Monroe muttered, turning her head to gaze out the window. Her hand went to her chest, no doubt to play with that stupid medallion she never took off, only to then drop into her lap without touching it.
Because it wasn’t around her neck.
Holy shit. She wasn’t wearing it.
“Mon, what the hell is going on with you?” I hissed, leaning closer so no one else could hear.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mila,” she said in a voice that shook. Catching her gaze, I realized she was close to tears, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“Did he do something? Did he…?” I didn’t even know what to ask. Her stalker was an enigma to me. I’d never met the guy, never even seen his face, yet he was my twin’s whole world.
Or he had been.
Now, I wasn’t so sure, but I knew he had to be why my sister wasn’t acting like herself. He had the power to make her light up a room whenever she was thinking about him. Yet now, there was only darkness when I looked at my beautiful-soul sister.
And I fucking hated it. Monroe should never be sad. Never cry or frown. She was too good, too everything I wasn’t. Which was what I loved about her the most. I never wanted to be her; I just wanted to be near her.
Always.
“We eating or not?” Zariah, the oldest of Scarlett and Ciro Donati’s daughters, asked with an arch of her red brows. “Because I could seriously go for some Taco Bell.”
“Same!” her younger sister squealed. “Please, please, please? Come on, Tavia. Say we can stop.”
“We are definitely stopping,” Tavia said with a grin. “I suddenly want one of everything on the menu.”
“Ugh, please tell me you aren’t pregnant,” Sofia grumbled unhappily.
The grin dropped from Tavia’s face, and at the loss of that brightness in the car, I wanted to grab the other girl by her pretty hair and toss her out the window. But Tavia shook her head at me as if she could read my mind. “I wouldn’t be drinking if I were pregnant, Sofia.”
During our picnic feast of Taco Bell drive-thru in the back of the decked-out limo, my dislike of the beautiful Sofia only grew. And by the time we got to the club where we were supposed to be spending the evening having fun, I was biting my tongue and balling my hands into fists to keep from slapping the bitch.
Tavia and I kept in touch regularly, mostly with a text or two throughout the day. She was closer to Monroe than me, but I still considered her one of our family. And right then, Sofia Volkov was upsetting one of my family. Tavia’s smile dimmed more and more as the other girl seemed to turn everything around to keep the spotlight on herself.
This was Tavia’s night. She was the bride; she was the one who should have everyone’s focus and adoration for the few hours we got to spend out. But it was obvious Sofia wasn’t a girl who liked the spotlight being off her for longer than a minute.
The Donati sisters seemed to be used to it, but I could tell they were getting irritated with their cousin. Proof of which was when Zariah point-blank ignored Sofia while she was talking to her. Ciana followed suit, focusing only on the rest of us while Sofia sulked and pouted.
Sitting on a couch in the VIP area of the club, I shared a look with River over Monroe’s head. Both of us grimaced. Well, this was fun. One girl was sulking like a toddler not getting her way, and another was lost in her own misery for whatever reason.
The music was decent, though, and a waitress kept bringing bottles of champagne and prosecco, topping off everyone’s glass each time before leaving.
I’d thought this was going to be fun. Getting to hang out with Tavia in a kick-ass club in New York City. A little drinking—that included something a hell of a lot stronger than weak-ass bubbly—and dancing my ass off with my friends. Instead, no one was dancing, drinking, or even smiling half the time.
Tavia didn’t look comfortable anymore. She kept glancing at Sofia as if she expected her to go off at any second, like a ticking time bomb about to explode in her face.
River’s phone vibrated on her lap, and she picked it up. Just from the way her eyes brightened when she read the message on her screen, I knew it was from my brother.
Leaning across Monroe, I hissed at River, “Please tell me he misses you and wants to join up with us.”
“Yes to the first, and while he wants to do the second, he can’t.” Her bottom lip pouted out for a second before she grinned. “But what if we went to him?”
“Hells yeah, baby.” My gaze drifted to the others, who were people watching and not paying us the least bit of attention. Fuck, they looked just as bored as us. “Find out where they are.”
“Already did,” River said with a sassy grin.
Chapter 2
Mila
Telling the others we were going to the bathroom, I pulled Monroe up beside me and steered her toward where Tavia said the ladies’ room was. But once we were out of sight, River and I guided Monroe toward the nearest exit. Not five minutes later, we were in the back of a taxi headed to where the guys were.
I felt a momentary pang of guilt for leaving Tavia behind on her special night, but she could either find us later or sit there bored off her ass and dealing with her spoiled future sister-in-law. I loved that girl, but I needed some fun.
And to find out what the fuck was going on with Monroe.
“Okay, spill it,” I commanded once we were in traffic. Stuck in the middle of River and me, Monroe had no choice but to answer our questions, because between the two of us, we wouldn’t give up until we had it all out of her.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mil,” she said. Her hand went to her neck again, feeling for the medallion that wasn’t there. Each time her fingers didn’t wrap around it, she balled her hand into a fist and dropped it onto her thigh, but not before tears would glaze her gray eyes.
Each and every damn time.
It was maddening, and I wanted to shake her until she told me what was wrong.
“Why aren’t you wearing your necklace, Monroe?” River asked, her voice gentle compared to mine.
“I…” She inhaled deeply and slowly released it before starting again. “I left it at home.”
“Why?” I demanded. From the time she’d gotten that damn thing, she hadn’t taken it off. Not once, not even to shower.
When her chin trembled, I turned, grasping her by the shoulders and lowering my head so I could look into her eyes. The passing lights were plenty enough to see her wet lashes. “What did he do, Monroe?”
“Nothing!” she exploded. “He hasn’t done anything. Why are you harping on this? Huh? I thought you would be glad I took it off. I’m letting him go, Mila.”
“Why would I be glad that you’re so miserable?” I half yelled at her. “When you hurt, I hurt. When you cry, I want to destroy what caused it. Yeah, okay, I’ve never felt comfortable about you wearing that thing. But it was because you seemed obsessed with this guy, Mon. It wasn’t healthy.”