Soft || 18+ Reverse Harem ||

36 - Burn it down

"More evil gets done in the name of righteousness than any other way."

- Glen Cook

. . .

Alexandre Monet

"I'll get it rebuilt," I told Dahlia, tucking the strand of her hair behind her ear. "I will make it just as it was. Will that help?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"We'll try."

She nodded, swinging her legs. She was sitting on the island of the kitchen, dressed in a giant sweater and sweatpants. I could just eat her up.

"We'll stop at a town tomorrow," I told her. "We can buy some things for you."

"Okay," she said, glancing at Andros who was cooking. "How long will stop?"

"A few days," Andros replied, arranging a few pancakes on a plate. We all could cook, but Andros and I were easily the best. "We have a house there. An apartment too. We can stay in whatever you prefer."

"Apartment," she said instantly.

I watched. That was a quick decision. Too quick.

"Let's have a date tonight," I said. "Be ready by seven, okay?"

She nodded.

She had dimmed since her store burnt down.

I knew she felt like she had failed Noah.

I didn't know what to do about that.

. . .

Dahlia

Lucian was the only one there as I entered the dining room.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Someone is dressed to kill."

I smiled, brushing my hands on the dress I was wearing. It was a dark grey dress that shone in the light.

It shone in the moonlight penetrating the room through the transparent ceiling, and it shone in the golden light of the candles lit around. They had transformed the dining room completely. First, it had been an over-the-top, beautiful dining room. Now, there was only a simple table with five chairs and some candles.

"Thank you," I said approaching him. "Why has everything changed?"

"I wanted to change it," he said. "It's hard to have different dates at the same place, but I wanted it to feel different to you. Did I succeed?"

"With flying colors." I stood beside him and looked at the painting he had been looking at.

It was the only thing that hadn't been moved.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Kostya and Cynthia."

"Kostya?"

"Kozlov's father."

I looked back at the painting. Cynthia was sitting on a chair with Kostya behind her. Kostya was a large man like his sons, but there was something so threatening about his eyes that made me want to take a step back.

Cynthia, on the other hand, appeared exactly opposite to how she was. She looked small and frail. Her skin was pale her hair the lighted shade of blonde. She was wearing a skin-tight red dress.

"Kostya is scary."

Lucian frowned and looked closely at the painting. "I suppose." He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.