Oh, sure, father of the year, having to ask for photos of your own daughter.
And we’ve been through this. She stays close until she reaches her full potential. Trust me. I know what she needs. You just focus on keeping Kyle under control and Helen far away from here.
Chapter 4
Hands spanning my waist. Hungry groans rip through the air like wildfire. Fire licking up my spine with every touch, every curse, every desperate whimper. My skirt is shoved up to my waist, knickers pushed to the side, as two thick fingers sink deep inside me. Oh my God. Is this heaven or hell? Am I a sinner or saint? Or something broken in between?
“God, Lil’, you feel fucking incredible. Tell me you want this, please.” His voice is ragged, pleas falling from lips swollen from my kisses, bleeding from my bite. Hearing him beg, my eyes roll back, high on the rush, the ache, the promise. He’smine. No matter what the world thinks. He belongs to me and only me. They’ll see.
“Please,” I plead, voice thick with need. “I need you, I need this. I’ve waited so long for this moment.”
The space between us disappears in a heartbeat as he leans down, claiming my mouth again. The sharp tang of vodka mixes with him, the taste is intoxicating, making me wonder if he’s drunk. But I shake it off, fist tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper. I need us to become one—so fused, so entwined that nothing and no one could ever tear us apart.
Reaching between us—
The shrill shriek of my phone jolts me awake from my… dream? Nightmare? Who knows anymore. Groaning, I scramble for it, silencing the persistent noise. Squinting at the screen, six missed calls glare back at me, alongside twenty frantic group chat messages. Before I can clear the sleep from my eyes, the phone vibrates with an incoming FaceTime call.
“What on earth made you think calling before the sun was even up was a good idea?” I groan, rubbing a fist into my eye and yawning wide.
“Oh, stop exaggerating. It’s after nine.” Cora sighs before disappearing from the frame. Moments later, she returns, April—her nearly two-year-old toddler—perched on her hip with a chunk of Cora’s blonde hair in her chubby little fist.
“You’re turning into Abbie with this allergy to mornings,” she teases with a roll of her eyes.
“Not all of us are morning people, you know,” Abbie chimes in, sighing from somewhere in the background.
Looking at my two best friends, the ache of homesickness tries to claw in. Batting it away, I sit up and prop my phone against my bent knees, twisting my hair into a messy bun. It still looks like shit, but it’s better than the rat’s nest it was.
“Yeah, just because April had you up before the birds doesn’t mean the rest of us need to be awake,” I complain, stretching with a yawn. “My first class isn’t for another two hours.”
Abbie’s in her dressing room, debating a dozen outfit options before settling on a leather halter top and skin-tight jeans.
“Logan’s going to lose his mind,” I whistle, watching her twirl.
“Oh, honey, that’s the plan.” She smirks, flicking her red hair over her shoulder and narrowing her eyes at me. “Now, what the hell happened to your hair?”
“That’s beside the point. I was up until after four, which means I’ve only had like five hours’ sleep. Does this look like a face that thrives on anything less than a full eight hours?” I circle my face with an exaggerated look of horror.
“Why the hell were you up so late? Are your roommates keeping you up?” Cora’s voice softens, concern threading through her words. “I have far more money than I need, I don’t understand why you won’t just let me help you out.”
I can already see the wheels turning, and while I love her more than life itself, I need to shut down her worries before she spirals into full mother-hen mode. The absolute last thing I need is for her to dig past my carefully constructed walls that keep Lily’s Lovesseparate from my reality.
“Unruffle those feathers, babe. I was making new samples and lost track of time. My roommates are angels, I promise.”
Not exactly a lie—more like bending the truth—because they don’t exist. Camming at all hours of the day doesn’t exactly lend itself to being a good roommate. But saying I have roommates is an easier way to explain my refusal of help than confessing how I can afford to live on my own when I’ve been cut off.
Keeping Lily’s Loves from them hadn’t started as a lie, but it became one. By the time they drew me into their twosome, I’d already sunk too deep into the rabbit hole with only Matt for company. It had become my private sin, a slice of forbidden joy I guarded from the Four Points. And then life began to spin out of control before any of us could blink, and suddenly, there was never a right time to tell them.
“Uhuhuh, that reminds me. I’ve been talking to my dad about fighting your case. Everyone with a brain knows what Jen was up to had nothing to do with you, but those damn emails paint a different picture, one that’s proving difficult to erase.”
The mention of Mother dearest twists my gut into knots.
Growing up, I always knew she was far from mother of the year. She was never happy with me; nothing I did was ever good enough. God forbid she caught me eating anything outside her carefully controlled diet plan.
I’d hoped her marrying Ciaran would dull her sharp edges, that the influence of the other wives and not having to work so hard to make ends meet might dilute her venom. But I could never have predicted how far down the path of corruption she’d already gone. How utterly rotten she was at her core.
And now? Being painted with the same brush? It stings like acid.
“Cora.” I sigh, staring at her poised, sharp Mafia heiress face on the screen. Maybe one day she’ll have the power to change things. But that day isn’t today. Jonathan O’Neill still runs the Points with an iron grip, and, last I heard, shows no signs of slowing down, not while there are still names to uncover, bodies to bury, and secrets to drag into the light. Maybe after he feels like he’s avenged Helen, he’ll hand over the reins, but even then, there’s still the rest of the older generation to contend with.
