No—she wasn’t skinny. Ella was built with an abundance of curves, all of them exactly where they should be.
“All the test results will be back tomorrow,” Rowan said, shifting in his chair.“So far, everything’s clean. Alec’s administering her birth control.”
Nick grunted, but said nothing.
I glanced at him. His eyes were fixed on the screen.
The interest was there.
I knew exactly how to push him over the edge.
I smiled to myself, satisfied with how smoothly Ella’s integration was progressing.
Chapter 12
Ella
No one could convince me that I hadn’t fallen into an episode of Black Mirror and couldn’t wake up from it. All three of them were like a strange, fucked-up family—the psycho, the prick, and the predator.
Nick kept glaring at me like a psycho every single day. The instigating prick was Rowan, who barely said anything. Then there was creepy Alec, who administered my birth control pills every morning as if I were purposely going to get pregnant by the prick.
Poor Sophie. I don’t know what she stole or what she did, but she didn’t deserve to die the way she did. Those images stayed with me whether I was at work or here. All I could do was keep my head down and carry on as if I still had a normal life.
The lie held no comfort.
“Finish your dinner,” Alec said.
“Yes, Dad,” I blurted out before slapping a hand over my mouth.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, hurriedly picking up my cutlery.
No one slapped me. No one reprimanded me.
I glanced up to find them all looking at one another, silently communicating in a way that made my skin prickle. Nick looked amused. Rowan was frowning. Alec, though—Alec’s eyes were narrowed on me.
“Your results came back today,” Rowan said lightly.“Finish your dinner, go to your room, and wait for me.”
The command made me gulp, but I nodded.
I could do this. I’d had sex before—multiple times. Different partners. The odd hookup in college. He wasn’t disgusting. Not physically, anyway. Personality was another matter.
“You won’t be mouthy for long,” Alec said, almost sing-song.
I cleared my plate quickly, loaded everything into the dishwasher, and hurried out of the room.
The tension—and the sadness of having to leave work—was finally catching up with me. Nick might glare or sit in silence in the car, but he never tried to intimidate or mock me. That was the difference that kept bothering me.
We ate breakfast and dinner together. Every day.
When I reached the top step, I glanced at the other doors—rooms I’d only ever looked into when they were open, never brave enough to explore properly. Rowan’s house wasn’t mine to wander. I’d looked him up at work, scrolling through article after article. Parents. Affluent background. A successful business.
And beneath it all—his shady loan system.
Interest and penalties so astronomical they barely felt legal.
God, I hated my father.
Why hadn’t it been him who died?
