My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. What the hell is she up to?
“They are more comfortable. If I have the time, I prefer them.” She sounds like she’s listening for a trap as well.
“Is that why you love trains too, Thorne?” Lillianna continues, her smile wicked. “Don’t you, big brother? Something about the... romance of train travel?”
I’m going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. I'll make it look like an accident.
My sister meets my eyes, her expression pure innocence, yet her eyes dance. She’s enjoying this. Of course she is. This is payback for every time I've given her shit about her dating life, every overprotective big brother moment.
“No, Lilly. I’ve never said that.” I reply. “They’re simply efficient and more comfortable than planes.”
“Mm-hmm.” Lillianna picks up her bourbon and swirls it. “Though I suppose it depends on the company. Train travel can be very... memorable. Under the right circumstances.”
She looks between Ivy and me.
Ivy’s fork clatters against her plate.
“Lilly,” I growl, reaching for my drink before I strangle my sister with my bare hands.
“What’s going on?” Madison asks, her attention ping-ponging between the three of us like she's trying to decode a secret language.
“Nothing, I’m making conversation. “Do you want me to show you the library after dinner, Madison?” Lillianna asks, avoiding my glare. Has she finally learned to shut her mouth? “It’s three stories with one of those sliding ladders. Best place in the house.”
“LikeBeauty and the Beast?”
“Exactly like that.”
Madison looks at me. “Does that make you the Beast?”
I almost smile. Almost. “Yes,” I deadpan. “But don’t expect me to change. I’m comfortable as a monster.”
Ivy's lips press together, and though she doesn't say a word, she doesn't need to. Her slight nod is answer enough.
"You know, we should make this a nightly thing," Lillianna says, eyes gleaming. "And on Sundays, have Sebastian and Rosalia over for family dinners. We could even start new Blackstone traditions."
“And what about Mom? Should we invite her as well?” My words are harsh, but it’s going to gut her when she learns Madison is living with us.
“Good point,” my sister mutters.
I set down my fork and pushed my plate away. Anger rushes at me unexpectedly, but with force. “Seriously, enough with this bullshit, like we’re an actual family.” My family is broken, has been for years. And my dad’s daughter with his mistress isn’t going to fix us. “I called this dinner to state the rules.”
I need a moment to collect myself, to remember why I'm doing this. Control. Boundaries. Self-preservation. I lean back in my chair, both hands wrapped around my glass.
"Rule one: This is my house. My schedule, my routines remain undisturbed."
Ivy sits back in her chair, arms crossed. “How democratic of you.”
I ignore her. "Rule two: The top floor is off-limits. My office, my bedroom—”
“Even for Ivy?” my sister quips.
“I swear to God, Lillianna,” I grate. Taking a deep breath, I continue. “Rule three: Staff answers to me. You need something, you ask me first.”
Madison's chin trembles slightly, but she stays quiet.
"Rule four—"
"Let me guess," Ivy interrupts. "Don't breathe too loudly?"
