Dixon whistled and pointed to his notepad once again.
“What is he on about?” Tristan said as he handed her a mug.
Lila shrugged and reclined into the couch. She dropped her boots on the scuffed coffee table and gave one last look to the apartment and the friends who occupied it. Tristan had called it home, as though it had belonged to both of them, but the moment she opened her mouth, it would all be gone.
Dixon whistled again.
The Sangre soured on her tongue. Her mother had banned the wine from her compound years before, some silly dispute between the Randolphs and the Holguíns. She shouldn’t have been drinking it at all. She was overreaching. She wanted things she couldn’t have. Perhaps Jewel and her mother were both right. She needed to grow up. A grownup Elizabeth Randolph couldn’t have Sangre.
She couldn’t have Tristan DeLauncey, either.
She didn’t deserve a happy ending anyway. She’d killed. Punishment and compensation had always been the price for such acts, if not death.
She didn’t feel like she deserved death.
But this?
She deserved this.
Lila put down the mug, drew herself up, and recounted the conversation she’d had with her mother the previous morning.
Dixon’s eyes flicked back to his brother, but Tristan didn’t say a word. Not when she admitted that she’d agreed to become prime, not when she spelled out the consequences. The brakes had been cut because another heir had wanted her spot.
Tristan crossed his arms at that.
As soon as Lila mentioned her purpose at the clinic, he hopped up from the couch and began prowling around the room, his scowl deepening. “So that’s…” He pointed at her belly.
“I shouldn’t have let you touch me without telling you first. I got carried away.”
“I thought I hurt you.” To his credit, he didn’t seem to mind that they’d nearly had sex without birth control.
It was more than she deserved.
“This is utter bullshit,” he said at last. “You’ve never wanted to become prime. You’ve never wanted a child. Now you’re suddenly prepared to throw your entire life away for both? Why?”
“For my family’s security, Tristan. The Randolphs need a competent prime. Duty is not always what one desires.”
“That’s a bunch of highborn twaddle, and you know it.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. I knew that you wouldn’t.”
“Is that some backward knock at me being workborn?”
“No, it was a very forward one. My family needs me.”
“They’ve been saying they need you for years, yet you’ve always told your mother to find someone else. Why agree now?”
“Because my mother has always allowed for my disagreement. Now she’s threatened to exile me if I don’t accept my birthright.”
“Then that’s her loss. You don’t need a family who would cast you aside if you don’t agree to their whims.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed. “It would be my loss, actually. Some of us like our families even when they’re a pain in the ass.”
“This is a more than just being a pain in the ass. You’re not thinking clearly right now.”
“Maybe I’m finally thinking clearly. The Randolphs are legion, Tristan. Every single one of them is depending on me to—”
“I forgot. You are Lila, the Chosen One, the only Randolph who can lead her family to greatness. Gods, no wonder you’re so arrogant. You believe your mother’s bullshit. She’s manipulating you, and you don’t even see it. Call her bluff. She’d rather have you as chief than not have you at all.”