“I didn’t lie to you.”
London purses her lips. “You kept it from me, and that’s just as bad.”
“If you’re looking for full transparency, this won’t work,” I tell her evenly. “Even if you think you can handle it, you can’t. I’m not patronizing you; it is a fact. Do not expect me to find you at night and share every detail of how my day went. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was necessary. You have enough on your plate, and I didn’t want to upset you.”
My headache is pounding now, making me more impatient than usual.
I know I’m supposed to ease her into things, but I don’t have time to when we’re in the middle of a goddamn war.
“I don’t expect you to tell me everything,” London whispers. “But at least the things that matter. You should’ve told me.”
“She doesn’t matter.”
Why can’t I make London see that?
The cameras, the pictures, the whole charade…none of it means anything.
“Elise Thayer is a means to an end,” I add, after a lengthy pause. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“I need some space.” She turns away from me. “I think we should sleep in separate rooms tonight.”
Her words feel like a dagger through the heart, and I’m tempted to ignore them.
But I know it won’t do me any good.
I’m wading in unfamiliar waters, and the last thing I want to do is to sink because I don’t know how to be in a relationship.
For now, we’ll do things London’s way.
I draw myself up to my full height. “Don’t try and sneak downstairs again, or I’ll punish you myself.”
Without waiting for a response, I storm downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, I spot Elise, who has a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My fingers move to the first few buttons of my shirt, and I make quick work of them. Then, I snatch the drink out of her hand and watch Elise through a thin plume of smoke.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Don’t,” I warn between sips. “You and I arenotfriends.”
This arrangement has caused enough trouble for one night.
The last thing I need is for London to catch us whispering.
Elise drags in another breath and blows it out. “We could be, you know. I see no reason why our arrangement can’t be beneficial on all levels.”
I level Elise with a blank look. “Did my father put you up to this?”
Elise takes the drink from my hand and downs it. “Nobody puts me up to anything.”
“Mind your own damn business then,” I snap back.
A short while later, Elise disappears, and I stalk off toward the basement. Mathew’s voice drifts upstairs, and I hear him mention my name and London’s. Then it goes quiet, and I head downstairs, pausing at the bottom to roll up my sleeves.
A dark-haired man is tied to a chair in the center of the basement, a single light bulb dangling over his head. Blood is caked to the sides of his face and his nose, and he’s breathing heavily. As I step closer, the prisoner watches me through his swollen eye. I yank him back by his hair and wait until he’s done hissing and looks at me.
“I can make this quick,” I tell him, “or we can keep doing this. Your choice.”
He says nothing.
A heartbeat later, he doubles over when I punch him in the side. I see Thayer in the background, his nose wrinkled in disgust. My father is standing next to him, his knuckles bloodied and bruised.
