Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Elaine

Iwould have probably snorted a fresh round of coke if he hadn’t stolen it from me. I was trembling as I gathered my things together and headed back through to the sea of people in the gala room. My heartbeat was fast, and my legs felt like weak little twigs.

This has nothing to do with my cock.

Harriet was still her amazing self as I sat back down at our table. She gave me her usual supportive smile and reached out to pull me close.

“You’re doing great,” she encouraged, but I felt anything but great. I felt like every bit the broken mirror—a flawed Constantine blonde, at odds with all the others.

Harriet seemed blind to the fear in my eyes, no doubt putting my shivers down to coke withdrawal and little else.

It’s something much less interesting than sex. It’s about marriage. I need a wife.

“I know it messed you up to see Lucian Morelli. Caroline is still flipping out, though of course she looks so calm and collected, no one outside the family can tell. But you handled it great.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I whispered. “No one else does.”

Harriet didn’t even bother attempting to argue with me; she knew I was right.

I’m dead serious. And anything that has to do with my fiancée has to do with me.

I drank more champagne, but didn’t feel the thrill or the release, just piled into the car with my chauffeur when it was acceptably late enough to bail on the shitshow. I opted for my apartment in the city, barely looking out the car window as it took me home, but there was something weird about the journey. An odd shiver down my spine.

It felt like I was being watched. That strange intuition when you know there are eyes on you.

I scoffed at myself. More withdrawal. I guess paranoia was a sensible addition to the list.

Or maybe I should be adding the Power brothers.

The chauffeur opened the door for me when I got to my building, and I glanced around before I headed up to my apartment. I was still feeling it. Still feeling those eyes on me.

I dropped my clutch on the table when I got inside, not bothering to restock the lining with more cocaine. I really was done with it this time.

I was done with Lucian Morelli, too. For good.

He was absolutely insane. Marriage? No.

I got in bed and slept until late, waking up with a muggy head and a pounding heart to go along with it. I trembled and craved more drugs, but I ignored it, eating ice cream for breakfast, even though it made me retch. I watched some of my favorite movies from my childhood, knowing the words by heart. I remembered being a little girl who still believed in the world. I thought about the dreams I’d believed in when I still thought they could be real.

And I thought about Lucian Morelli. Even though I’d sworn to my heart I was over him, I still thought about Lucian Morelli.

I ignored my phone. I ignored everything. I ignored my heart, and my hurt, and the scalpel blade screaming to me from my bedside table.

But I couldn’t ignore my thoughts about Lucian damn Morelli.

I had a Roosevelt dinner scheduled that night, on the lawn at my Uncle Geoffrey’s mansion with Harriet, Silas, and Newton. Mom would be there, and so would Winston, Vivian, and Tinsley too.

I didn’t want to go.

I had to.

I got dressed up, fresh under a new round of makeup. I styled my hair so it looked decent and put on some jeans and pumps. Casual. At least it could be casual.

I shouldn’t have done it, but I did, as a safety net. I slipped more coke into the lining of my clutch where I always kept it safe, even though I cursed myself for doing it.

The chauffeur picked me up at seven outside the apartment block, and there it was again—the paranoia as soon as I stepped outdoors. That feeling of eyes on me was burning bright, making me shudder with every step. I was twitchy, looking out of the windows, trying to convince myself I was safe, but it only made it worse. A car was following us to Geoffrey’s place, and I was convinced the eyes were from that. Paranoia fresh over paranoia. The Power brothers would never follow me onto my family’s home turf. They weren’t dumbass enough to risk the backlash. So, who was it? Who would be stalking me across New York and out into the suburbs?

As it turned out, the car wasn’t following me. It kept on going down the street as we pulled into Geoffrey’s driveway, carrying on quite innocently through Bishop’s Landing.

Damn my muddled mind. Damn it.

The event stretched through the night. Laughter was a thin guise over the dirty business conversations Mom was having with Geoffrey and Newton, and it didn’t distract me from any of them. I knew what they were talking about. I knew they were talking about causing harm to anyone they wanted to destroy for the sake of their profits.

Once again, I bailed as soon as it wasn’t going to cause any shit from the others. They were trying to keep a sheen over Mom’s blatant disowning of me, but it was a poor show. She barely looked at me that evening, and when she did, it was like I was a piece of crap on her shoe.

Harriet tried to keep me talking. She failed.

Silas tried to talk with me about what happened with Lucian Morelli at Tinsley’s ball. He failed.

I was in the car and heading back to the city with barely a wave of goodbye to them all, letting out a sigh of relief as I slumped into the back seat.

But there it was again.

That paranoia.

I glanced through the back window, just to assure myself how safe I really was…but it was there again. That same car was following us back towards the city.

It was then that I realized the truth. The Power brothers were coming for me, for real this time. My days of giving them the brush off were coming to an end, and I was done for. This time I’d be truly done for.

I should be relieved. Who cared if I lived or died? That’s what I told Lucian.

But I was terrified instead.

I dashed out of the car as soon as the driver pulled up outside my building, not even giving him the time to open the door for me. I was inside and in the elevator up to my suite, barely catching a breath before I was through my front door.

The Power brothers wouldn’t get me in here. Nobody could get me in here, not with all the security on the ground floor.

I checked my calendar, and the rest of my week was mostly with Harriet. The Power brothers wouldn’t come after me around Harriet, that would be striking too much of a blow against my family to risk the comeback on that score.

I was so churned up thinking about the Power brothers that I jumped in my seat when my phone sounded out with a ping. Tristan. It was Tristan.

Still coming on Saturday night? Blue Hawk was great in bed, you know. Hope you can meet him again. Want your approval.

I hadn’t actually liked Blue Hawk that much. He was an arrogant little shit, dangling Tristan by a thread. But I wanted to keep tabs on him to protect Tristan. Is Stephen going to be there?

The response came within seconds.

Sure is. Hopefully he can keep you distracted from your Morelli fantasies.

He shouldn’t have put that in text form. I deleted it before I replied, I’ll be there.

At least it was something to look forward to. I had no idea if or when I’d ever see Lucian again before I got taken out by the host of other assholes after my blood, so at least I could enjoy staring at a guy who reminded me of him.

Tristan sent me a reminder of where I was going, and I put it in my calendar before I could forget it. Spirit Club. Another dive downtown. Another place I wouldn’t be telling anyone I was going to. At least the Power brothers wouldn’t think to find me there.

I got into bed, managing another night with no alcohol. The scalpel was calling me, the craving for the release of slicing my skin was almost harder to resist than the craving of drugs in my veins. Hell knows how, but I managed to resist them both.

Just a shame I wouldn’t be able to resist Lucian Morelli if he ever came for me again.

I hated myself more than ever as I realized I was praying that he did.