Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I studied him. “You really don’t know, do you?”
His forehead crumpled. “Know what?”
Victor didn’t hear what they tried to do to me that night. He’s not in the same class and they’re not friends, but it looks like the Royals aren’t as tight knit as I thought.
“You heard I got into it with Owen and shocked him,” I finally said. “Well, it didn’t teach him a lesson. He’s gotten twice as loud, threatening, and abusive since.”
“What?” He ate the distance, fists balled. “Did he do something to you? Is that how you got those bruises?”
I crossed my arms, hugging myself tight. How did he know? Most of them faded, and for those that didn’t, I covered in heavy makeup. I thought I did a good job—until then.
“That’s how he ended up in the hospital.”
“Luna—”
“Please,” I whispered, voice trembling. “I don’t want to talk about it, Victor. He’s never going to mess with me again. That’s what’s important.”
“You’re fucking right he’s never going to mess with you again.” I leaned back at the fury on his face. “Levi’s in the hospital too. And Darren, Caleb, Silas, and Emmett. Were they all in on it?”
My silence spoke volumes.
Victor breathed hard, nostrils flaring. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What?” I said to his back. “What does that mean? What are you going to do?” He strode away without a reply.
Putting aside my unease, I went to peel Katie off Dean. She extracted herself with extreme reluctance. “We won’t be long,” she told him. “Come over around eleven.”
“Better be naked when I get there.”
“Really?” I tugged her away. “’Cause I was thinking I’d wear whipped cream and two cherries.”
“I take it back. Wear that.”
“Or maybe—”
I picked up the pace, dragging her too far to continue the conversation.
“You’re so repressed, Lu-Lu.” Katie slipped free of me and led the way to her car. “I have so much work to do to fix you.”
My phone buzzed with a text. Reading it, I grinned.
“No, thank you,” I replied, “but there is something you can do for me.”
“Which is?”
“Since it’s my treat, let me pick the restaurant.”
“And where do you want to eat? Hometown Country Fried?”
“No.” I said that with more patience than I knew I possessed. “Let’s go to Toussaint’s.”
“Huh. That’s actually a decent restaurant. I see a few weeks back in civilization has scraped some of the Dreg off your tongue. You’re ready to eat, behave, and dress like the rest of us.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, not so much the dress part. We’ll stop by my place first and change into something decent.”
“I’m just going to say yes if it gets food in my belly faster.”
Not arguing with Katie was the quick way to an easy life. She drove me back to her house, dressed me like one of her mannequins, then we set off for Toussaint’s.
The French bistro nestled in the richest part of town, excluding the street with all the mega-mansions. Despite the modern chandeliers, marble floors, upholstered booths, and the cocktail dresses and heels we had to wear to get in, Toussaint’s was considered informal dining for the Royal crowd. Here they had five-course menus instead of the traditional seven, and one of the sides was black truffle oil French fries—therefore, informal.
“Good evening, mesdames.” The host bowed. “Party of two?”
“Yes,” said Katie. “We’d prefer seats near the back.”
“Of course. Please, follow me.”
I whispered in her ear when he was out of earshot. “Are you trying to hide me?”
“On the contrary, my clingy, insecure hanger-on.” We rounded the bar, coming into full view of Saylor, Gabriella, Piper, Everleigh, Iris, Branlon, Giovanni, and the horde of Royals taking up the back room of Toussaint’s.
“I’m showing you off,” Katie announced.
I STUDIED MY MENU LIKE there’d be a test, skin prickling under the half a dozen pairs of eyes boring a hole in my skull.
Chancing a peek, I peered over my menu at Giovanni and his date, Annika. Annika Mitchell, to be exact, the girl he was really dating while seducing my sister. The same girl who gave him the green light to sleep with her—all in the name of humiliation.
Victor was wrong. I bared my teeth at the thought of Annika Mitchell, not Everleigh.
It wasn’t a coincidence the two of them were here. Rafael and the guys told me this was the Royal equivalent of a local dive bar. The waiters never carded them, and since nothing on the menu was less than two hundred dollars, Dregs didn’t eat here. Giovanni and Annika ate at Toussaint’s almost every night.
My gaze slid to the right. Apparently so do Her Royal Highnesses.
“Why are you showing me off?”
Katie half shrugged while buttering her bread. “You picked this place, not me. Saylor always eats here on Tuesday night. This is her folks’ weekly sex night and the other side of town isn’t far enough away.”