I can hear Corinne behind us, the click-clacking of her heels, the soundtrack of my childhood and teen years. When I was young it wasn’t strange that she never hugged me or asked me about school or didn’t seem to like me very much. It was the way things were. I never knew my mother, so Corinne’s behavior was just…normal. Other kids were the ones who pointed out how mean she was. That if she spoke to me, it was only to tell me to straighten my collar, smile wider, brush my hair. But still, I thought she cared about me in some cold, remote way. The same way a mean coach loves his struggling team in sports movies. It was only after I was kidnapped by Velvet House that my brainwashing became clear. Corinne never loved me. I was an asset to be used. She sold me to Mr. Parker to buy luxury cars and vacations and the plastic surgery that’s kept her looking twenty-nine for a decade and when Velvet House abducted me and spoiled her plans, her only concern was getting me back to Mr. Parker so she could get her payout.
The back of my neck prickles and I wonder why she’s really here. I don’t believe she actually cares about bringing the family together, but she couldn’t sell me anymore even if she wanted to. Without my virginity I’m useless to Mr. Parker and as dangerous as he is, he wouldn’t violate the contract between him and Velvet House just to come after me again.
The contract is airtight. If anyone violates it, Mr. Bianchi will kill them and take their assets. No, Mr. Parker will never try to marry me again.
When we get to his office, Doc unlocks the door and ushers me to his desk. “You sit here.”
I drop into the huge black leather throne and rest my hands on the desk. Doc leans up against the wall behind me, folding his tattooed arms across his chest. I feel safer knowing he’s there. Safe and powerful, like I’m Eli. An untouchable boss. I know that’s what Doc wanted, and I smile at the sweetness of my psycho boyfriend.
Corinne enters, her pale face flushed from climbing all the stairs. She looks around, taking in the black and barbed wire décor. “Isn’t this…vampiric?”
Doc pushes off the wall with a growl. “Say what you’ve gotta say, bitch.”
“Well,” Corinne says, ignoring him. “First and foremost, January, we miss you and love you very much.”
Doc laughs.
An answering smile curves Corinne’s mouth, but her eyes are as cold as ever. I can’t think of anything to say, so I don’t say anything.
She tosses back her hair. “Secondly, I’d like to apologize.”
I feel my mouth fall open.
“For what?” Doc demands.
Corinne’s gaze remains fixed on me. “I understand now that you marrying Zachery Parker wasn’t a good idea—”
“That’s putting it fucking mildly,” Doc snarls.
“—and I want to say I’m sorry for putting you through so much stress on the family’s behalf. That I’m sorry I arranged for you to marry him.”
I make myself nod. My head feels heavy, like it’s gone rusty somehow.
“Good,” Corinne says briskly. “Now on to the most important matter.”
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a piece of cream-colored paper. She shows it to me and my heart sinks. I recognize it because we have an identical one pinned on our family noticeboard at Velvet House. It’s an invitation to John Bianchi and Yelizaveta Romansky’s wedding. The Italian oligarch and his fifty-years-younger Russian bride. The ceremony has been postponed over the last year while Mr. Bianchi had heart surgery, but now it’s less than a week away. It’s going to be the social event of the year and I’m singing at the reception, at Mr. Bianchi’s request. I wish I wasn’t because he scares me, but Eli pointed out he’s a good man to do favors for. And a bad man to offend.
“Where did you get that?” Doc says roughly. “How do you know John Bianchi?”
Corinne gives him a look of utter contempt. “I went to school with his youngest daughter Octavia.”You peasant.
Corinne doesn’t say it, but she might as well have.
“So, you’re coming to the wedding,” Doc says. “Big fucking deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Corinne responds icily. “Margot, Harris, Lachlan, and I will all be attending, and I thought it appropriate that we establish that ahead of time to avoid awkwardness.”
I frown. “You came all this way to say that?”
“Oui,” Corinne says because she sometimes slips into French. “My friends are not aware of our estrangement, January, and I want to keep it that way. I would also like us to take a family photo after the ceremony to reassure your uncles you’re alive and well.”
“You mean so the Whitehalls don’t cut you out of the family payouts for being the most dogshit parent in the world,” Doc says.
Corinne’s buttery-smooth expression flickers. For the first time, I see real anger on her face. “I’m not going to discuss my family finances withyou,” she spits. “But don’t worry, I didn’t come to negotiations empty-handed.”
She fixes me with an icy glare. “Teresa Calderoli left you some things in her will. I thought the wedding might be a good place to exchange them.”
The casual mention of Zia’s name feels like a thumbtack in my chest. “What things?”
