But someone has to look out for Minxy. And if Mom’s really got her stashed away somewhere sketchy, then maybe I’m the only one who can get her out.
I pull over outside a closed gas station and kill the engine. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll to G’s thread, seeing I missed a message.
G: School seems legit. Nothing shady but I’ll see if I can get a contact there to keep an eye on our girl. Just don’t piss off Abi. She has an angle, we just have to figure out what it is.
Yeah, right. He’s been warning me for years that Mom's’s dangerous in a way most people don’t see. The pretty kind. The quiet kind. The kind that smiles while she’s pulling the strings tight.
When I was little, I used to think she was magic. Everything she touched sparkled. Now I know it’s just glitter. Pretty, but fake as hell.
I rest my head against the steering wheel. She’s not going to win this time. Not with Minxy. Not with me. If I can’t stop her, maybe I can at least expose her.
But first—I need to find out what she’s hiding.
Chapter Eighteen
PENELOPE
I was supposedto introduce my men this weekend.
Real-life Penelope and Velvet Penelope, sitting across from Silas and Gideon at the same table, drinking the same wine, pretending this is normal when it absolutely is not. That was the plan. Until Abi decided to throw an engagement party on the same night and turned my schedule into a drunk game of Tetris.
I flop back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, phone in my hand. A few threads down is the text Gideon sent earlier this week—reservation confirmed for Friday, eight o’clock.Dress however makes you feel powerful.I’d reread it twice last night, already buzzing with nerves and excitement.
And now? I’m furious Abi managed to bulldoze the one thing I was actually looking forward to.
Still, Silas is the one I need to check with first. If he can’t shift, the entire weekend reshuffles. He’s the variable. The one who plans around instinct, not reservations.
The thread with him is still open from last night; the last thing from him is a picture of a bottle of wine and the words,For when I meet your other man.
I type, erase, and then type again.
Me: Hey, change of plans. A family thing came up this weekend, so can we shift to Saturday instead?
The dots appear almost immediately.
Silas: Saturday is club night.
I chew my bottom lip, stare at that for a second.
Me: I know, I can skip.
Silas: You never skip.
He’s not wrong. Weekends at Velvet are carved into my bones at this point. Familiar music, familiar faces, familiar heat.
Me: It won’t kill me to miss one weekend. I’m sure it won’t be the last time real life puts the kibosh on my weekend fun.
Silas: Then maybe we meet there instead. Neutral ground, right?
My stomach flips.
Me: You want to meet him at Velvet?
Silas: That’s where you met us. Feels fitting.
There’s a longer pause. Long enough for my brain to start spinning through worst-case scenarios. Them hating each other. Them competing. Someone storming out. Me caught in the middle, the fragile bridge between two very stubborn men.
Me: You sure? Club rules are one thing…real life is another.
