Iwake up on a hard floor. I blink up at an insanely high ceiling, confused. My mind is groggy.
I try to move but quickly realize that I’m tied up. My wrists are basically immobile, the same with my ankles. I’m still in my dress from the club, thankfully, but my shoes are gone, and my mask. I errantly hope my new birthday earrings are still in my ears.
‘There she is.’
Why is Andy here? Where ishere?
He’s pacing. Shade does that when he’s upset or nervous. Is Andy the same? I try to take in as much information as I can. I can see out the door where it’s open just a sliver. It’s night outside.
I’m in a huge space with a barrel-vaulted roof. A hangar, maybe. There are some small planes and a bigger one, along with spare parts and tools.
No one else besides Andy seems to be here. I swallow hard, because, while I have no clue what’s happening, I can make deductions and none of it is good.
Andy checks his watch and then his phone, muttering under his breath about something.
I groan as I sit up, my head hurting from whatever drug Andy must have used on me that put me to sleep. Multiple times, I realize.
‘You used that stuff on me in the club in New York,’ I finally say, ‘and on the plane, and again tonight.’
He snorts, not denying it. ‘Last night was too easy. Just a little prick with the syringe as I walked past you and then all I had to do was wait until you needed help standing up.’
‘And you used it on your father,’ I say. ‘The night my mother was killed.’
He smiles a little. ‘It was in his drink at the gala. A versatile little substance. Been using it for years.’
I regard him in stony silence for a moment.
I push my emotions deep, so I feel nothing in preparation for my next question.
‘You killed my mother, didn’t you?’
Andrew’s grin widens grotesquely.
‘Why?’
‘Because she had it coming,’ he snarls. ‘Getting into Novelle business like she had the right. Money-grabbing bitch found out about the marriage that Pop and I were planning with the Bandervilles. She was talking my father around, telling him we didn’t need to marry you to anyone, that we’d be okay without her family’s money.’
His sneer is low. ‘She didn’t even know the Trust existed until she saw the paperwork in Pop’s desk, and then she decided she wanted you home, and my dumb father was about to let her go get you. He was always weak where she was concerned.’
He keeps talking without any more prompting from me.He doesn’t care what I know, I realize. Is that because he thinks I’m too stupid to do anything about it, or because he knows that I won’t be in a position to tell anyone what he admits?
‘And then she opened a letter she shouldn’t have seen, and she was pissed when she saw the agreement was being finalized. She made him promise not to do it, and he was going to keep her happy.’
Andy rolls his eyes. ‘She had to go. Fun fact, my father was supposed to die that night too. But the lucky asshole survived with barely a scratch,’ he shrugs. ‘Not everything can go to plan, I guess.’
‘And all this was about the money,’ I say. ‘And the notes? The stalker stuff? What was the point of that? If you hadn’t sent anything, everyone would have just assumed my mom’s death was an accident.’
Then he comes closer and crouches in front of me.
‘That was all for fun.’
I’m taken aback. I didn’t realize that Andy had such strong feelings about me these days. I mean, I wasn’t evenhere.
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘What do you have against me?’
He lets out a feral sound of rage that has my fingers splaying out and my body rocking a little. I hide my hands between my knees and stop myself from moving. I don’t want him to know that he’s upsetting me.
‘You’re such a dumb fucking bitch. You know that? You had a mom who actually gave a crap about you. You wouldn’t even hug her. You acted out and made things difficult for our family. I had to deal with so much shit at school because of you. All I got was an embarrassing stepsister and Pop’s anger that I wasn’t good enough. And then yourmom…when he married her, strutting around like she owned the whole fucking place. Fuck her and fuck you. I hope Marcus destroys you—body, mind, and soul—and you end up at The Heath in one of their dumb little cells, mumbling to yourself in a straitjacket. That’s what you deserve.’
