“She was introduced as Ivy West,” I deadpan.
“Yes, but you say it with familiarity. Like you know her. Intimately.”
I don’t know her, but I can’t forget her.
And I sure as hell can't forget the way she'd laughed, soft and surprised, right before I kissed her goodbye. Like she hadn't expected to find me funny, hadn't planned on liking me at all. That laugh has been playing on repeat in my head ever since.
Admitting defeat, I glance at the divider between the driver and us. It’s still closed. I nod at my sister. “I have met her before today.”
Lillianna’s mouth falls open. “When?”
“Last night.”
“Last—” She sits up straighter, and I can see her mind racing. “Wait. You met her the night before the blackmail meeting? How?”
“On the train.” I keep my voice neutral, like I’m discussing a simple acquisition. “We talked, but didn’t get into personal info.”
“Oh my God. You did more than talk.” Her hand covers her mouth, but I can see she’s fighting a smile. “You slept with her.”
I don't confirm or deny. I don’t need to. My sister can read me like a balance sheet.
“Thorne.” The glee in her voice tells me she’s enjoying this way too much. The troublemaker. “You slept with the guardian of the girl who’s blackmailing our family. The night before she walked into that boardroom.”
“When you say it like that—”
“It sounds insane? Because it is insane.” She laughs, sharp and delighted. “No wonder you looked like you wanted to combust every time she spoke. Does she know you’re staying because of her?”
"Don't make this into something it's not, Lilly." I’m here to help Sebastian. Our family. I might not be able to forget how perfect she felt, but it was incredible sex, that’s all.
The look Lillianna gives me could cut glass.
“I’m staying because of the environmental liability,” I reiterate. “Because Sebastian needs backup. Because—”
“Because you’re drawn to her,” Lillianna finishes. “And because the idea of her living in our house for three months while you pretend nothing happened is either the worst idea you’ve ever had or the most interesting.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” I remind her. “It was the little blackmailer.”
“But you went along with it. I know you, brother, if you wanted out of it, you’d have made it happen.”
I want to argue, but the Rolls is pulling up to my house. The driver will open the door in thirty seconds, and this conversation will be over.
And she’s right. No one makes me do what I don’t want to do.
“It’s complicated,” I finally say.
"Everything with you is complicated." She reaches over and squeezes my hand. Just once, brief and warm. "But for what it's worth? I’m glad you’re staying. Not because of the environmental stuff or Sebastian or even Ms. Ivy West. Because you've been hiding for three years, licking your wounds. The only way they will heal is if you stay here, righting your wrongs."
My jaw tightens. Always my wrongs. My mistakes. Like I invented being a Blackstone bastard all on my own. Like Dad didn’t pave, or hell, push me down that road.
The driver opens her door. My sister slides out with easy grace, then pauses and leans back in.
“Also,” she says, her grin returning, “this is going to be the most entertaining three months of my life. Living with you, ateenager with blackmail material, and the woman you’re clearly hung up on? I should sell tickets.”
“I’m not hung up—”
But she’s already walking toward the entrance, her laughter floating back on the humid Kentucky air.
I sit in the Rolls for another moment, watching her go. My little sister. The one person in this family who still looks at me like I’m worth saving.
