I chew my miniature cucumber sandwich with vigor as I meet her cold, calculating gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated by her icy demeanor. This would be funny if it wouldn’t affect Ladybug’s well-being.
Her mother is lucky that I’m trying to be nice for Amelia’s sake. I’d love to give her a piece of my mind.
The server hurries over, a look of mild panic on his face as he tries to keep up with my appetite. I flash him a charming grin as he refills the plates, enjoying the slight twitch in Mrs. Stanley’s perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“Thank you, my good man,” I say, clapping his shoulder. “I was beginning to worry I’d waste away to nothing with these dainty portions.”
The dimwit mother’s conversation with the other half of the table cuts through, capturing my attention. “… our vacation home in Scotland is simply divine, especially in autumn,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “The foliage is breathtaking, and the air is so crisp. It’s truly a magical place.”
I realize I’ve tuned out the conversation for so long that I didn’t even notice we changed topics, not that it’s a more interesting one.
Amelia is taking a sip of her tea when Daniel leans in closer, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It really is beautiful,” he murmurs. “The perfect place for Christmas with the kids.”
Grey growls beside me, but it’s drowned out by Amelia’s yelp. In an instant, all three of us stand and move toward her. She spilled her hot tea over her chest, and her pained expression tells me it burned her. Oliver grabs a napkin and pushes himself between Daniel and Amelia to help her clean up.
“Are you hurt, my Fa-ah… Amelia?” he corrects himself, keeping his tone soft, at odds with the deep concern etched on his face.
Amelia looks up at him with big eyes, her bottom lip quivering.
“Amelia Charlotte, how clumsy can you be?” her mother accuses.
God, I hate this woman.
Amelia pushes back her chair and stands, muttering an excuse to freshen up. She hurries away, leaving behind a worried-looking Oliver.
I glance at Grey who nods, and we’re just about to run after her, when Mr. Stanley’s voice halts us. “Sit down, gentlemen. She’ll come back.”
“She burned herself,” Oliver accuses, ignoring Mr. Stanley and walking off.
Grey mutters an apology and follows, and I look back at the table.
“Thanks for the miniature food,” I say with a smile, my words dripping with sarcasm before walking after them.
Amelia deserves so much more than this charade, and when we’re back in Seattle, I’m buying her a foot-long sandwich.
SEVEN
My blouse lieson the floor next to the stilettos I just kicked off, leaving me in only my skirt and bra. I brush my hair behind my shoulders and start to fan my chest, taking deep breaths and trying to fight back the tears that threaten to spill over.
I’m raw.
Being in this house, having them here,I’m so fucking raw,and burning myself now seems like the cherry on top.
I can’t do this anymore.
My reflection in the vanity mirror shows angry red patches on my pale skin where the hot tea scalded me.
Just perfect.
And just because of Daniel. He’s such an idiot.
Vacation home. Christmas with kids.
My hands tremble as I run them over the tender areas, wincing at the contact.
My smartwatch vibrates violently on my wrist, jolting me from my spiral. An alert blinks on the screen—someone has crossed the sensor in the hallway. But before I can even react, the door springs open without anyone knocking, and Grey, Misha, and Oliver barge their way inside.
“Princess, are you—” Grey’s eyes widen as he takes in my state of undress. “Shit.”
