Out of respect, I didn’t bring it up. My mom would find out eventually. Most likely after he made his choice.
I had until graduation to change his mind. Or at least negotiate having a say in the matter.
An arranged marriage might be inevitable, but that didn’t mean I had to accept the first woman offered. He needed to give me choices.
After finishing the best apple pie ever made—courtesy of our chef, Miriam—I excused myself from the table and headed upstairs to my wing of the mansion.
The space was isolated and cold, just how I liked it.
A small sitting area opened into my bedroom. I’d remodeled my dorm to mirror it because no matter where I went, nothing felt right unless it resembled home.
The mansion version was more polished with dark mahogany crown molding wrapping around the ceiling. Black wainscoting climbed the walls beneath layers of gray paint.
I flicked the switch as I entered my bedroom. The black chandelier above my king-size bed came alive, casting a dim glow.
Dropping my bag, I unzipped it and pulled out Blair’s MacBook and phone before collapsing on the mattress.
Time to see what Blair Dupont was hiding.
And what I found was … interesting.
She had no friends listed and only three contacts saved.
Mom. SD. And SD’s Driver.
No social media. No photos. No digital footprint.
When I dug into her financials, it got stranger. She had a modest bank account tied to an LLC with a vague name. Everything was filed under her mother’s maiden name, as if her father didn’t exist.
When I looked at her recent search history, it became even more interesting.
She’d searched for the number of a prison in Arizona.
I leaned back against the headboard, MacBook warm on my lap, and smirked.
Blair was hiding something.A lotof somethings.
I was going to drag every last secret into the light.
People were easier to control once you found out what they were desperate to keep buried. I’d do the same to Blair.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on Blair?” Seraphina asked from my leather passenger seat as we drove back toward Saint Vale.
The road stretched ahead of us, trees blurring as we passed them.
We’d spent the weekend with our parents, and the entire time, I fought the urge to grab my keys and drive straight back to campus to Blair.
The girl occupied my thoughts through every meal.
She was on my mind during every conversation with my father and Benny about business and territories.
Half my weekend was spent locked in my wing, combing through her devices over and over. I’d searched every folder, convinced I’d overlooked something when I couldn’t find all the answers I needed.
Blair was a puzzle with too many missing pieces, and it was getting under my skin.
I tapped my thumb against the leather steering wheel. “Keep your distance from her,” I told Seraphina, sounding like our father. “Don’t try to become friends with her.”
I flicked on my turn signal and took a right without looking at her.
