“It’s exquisite, Mrs. King,” she whispered.
In her trembling voice and uncertain gaze, I glimpsed echoes of my daughter. I instantly knew I had done the right thing by allowing her to stay. Alek hovered protectively over her in the cutest way. If only…
“You put her in one of the nicer rooms. Thanks, Mother.” He raised his eyebrows with a smirk, just like his father.
Ignoring Alek for the moment, I turned my attention to the maid who had just arrived. “Renee, thank you for coming.” She nodded and stood awaiting instruction. “Kinsley, Renee can put your things away.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can do it, really,” she stammered.
Alek pulled her into his arms, and she stiffened immediately, a deep blush settling over her cheeks. “No,” he said roughly. “I need to get to the club, but I’ll see you for dinner.” He went to kiss her, but she turned her face and gave him her cheek.
“I’ll allow you today, but if I want to kiss you, I will. I want your list tonight,” he said and then looked in my direction. “Mother, thank you. I’ll be by later for dinner.”
“Son, I’m sure you’re quite busy. I promise Kinsley will be perfectly safe and taken care of.”
“I’m not worried that you won’t take care of her,” he said, his voice laced with confidence. “It happens to be my night.”
Kinsley buried her face in her hands. My breath caught in my throat as the words spilled from his lips. A rush of thoughts no mother should have flooded my mind. Like shards of glass, each fragment reflecting a different possibility.
Dear god, did he mean what I thought he meant? Was the beautiful blue-and-yellow room going to become a revolving door at a brothel for my sons?
Not that I should be surprised. I was well aware of their lifestyle, but the notion still sent shockwaves through my core. He was seriously trying to challenge the boundaries of what society deemed acceptable. I could overlook some things, but this was too much. Questions swirled within me, overwhelming my senses and leaving me stunned.
I stared, searching for any hint that he was teasing me or it was a misplaced attempt at humor. But his wink told me everything.
“Keep your phone on you,” he ordered like she was a child.
“Yes, Sir,” she responded immediately, making my head spin.
The air between Alek and me grew thick with unspoken words. In that profound moment, I realized there were aspects of parenting adult children that were harder than toddlerhood. In fact, I would have gladly exchanged all the sleeplessnights to have him young again and not be discussing visiting his lover in my home, no less.
As he approached the door, I chased after him, my eyes narrowed. “We should talk, just the two of us.”
His eyebrows darted up in surprise. “I thought we already did this, but okay,” he replied, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
Once we were in the hall and away from Kinsley, I turned to him, unable to contain myself. “Aleksandr,” I began, my voice tinged with apprehension. “Care to share what you meant by ‘it’s my night’? Are you seriously trying to say that you…your…that you all—”
He erupted in laughter, the sound filling the hall and echoing off the walls. I couldn’t help but shake my head in disbelief at his attitude. What the hell was wrong with him? Pinching the bridge of my nose, I fought to control the fury I wanted to unleash on him. And did he really find this absurd situation that humorous? I’d failed in more ways than one, apparently.
“Ah, Mother, where do I even begin?” he teased, feigning contemplation, all the while his eyes danced with merriment. He was getting a kick out of this. “How can I describe it? It’s like a beautifully chaotic dance—a tango, so to speak. You’re fond of that dance, no?”
“Very fond, actually. I must say, I wasn’t expecting such a dramatic analogy from you.” I crossed my arms. “Since when do you care about dancing the tango?”
“Since her. And I’m here to tell you it’s an amazing tango of affection and shared nights.”
I cocked my head to the side, staring at him in disbelief. Was he serious? Or had I officially lost my mind?
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re seriously equating your…arrangementsto a tango. Where did I go wrong?”
He shrugged playfully, a twinkle in his eye. “We like to keep things interesting. Life before her was mundane. Now it’s tangos, some salsa, but the best is when we dance a sensual bachata.”
He then had the nerve to gesture a chef’s kiss. My eyebrows shot up in disbelief and my mouth fell open with a silent gasp. He was the one who’d lost his mind. Not a small part, but the whole damn thing.
“Thank you. You’ve managed to ruin all styles of ballroom dancing. I can’t even go there. Wait until your father hears this madness. He’s going to think I’m lying. God, I only wish I were.”
Reality had apparently decided today was a good day to take a detour into the realm of the surreal, and I was along for the bumpy ride.
“You worry too much. Father already knows about our intricate system of rotation and scheduling. The nights are carefully divided, each brother getting his fair share. Think of it like a well-orchestrated symphony of love and coordination.”
