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“So, did you get it?” I continued, prodding Aydin. “The other thing you asked for?”
He finished cutting the stitches and picked up the tweezers, pulling the thread out of my skin. “Yes.”
“Then you can get her out,” I stated. “I want her gone.”
“You want her safe. She is safe.”
I thinned my eyes on him. She wasn’t, and even if she were, she was messing up plans and accelerating my timeline. I didn’t need the distraction.
“She thinks I arranged to bring her here,” I told him.
“And your pride hurts.”
Yes. Right now, she thought I was still obsessed and small-minded, every moment we spent together vivid and tantalizing in my memory.
I didn’t want her to know that was true. Ever.
I was supposed to be somebody by now. I was supposed to make her regret not wanting me, and this was humiliating. She shouldn’t be here.
“I’ll arrange it,” he told me.
I looked at him.
“When we’re done with her,” he clarified.
Rain tapped against the kitchen window over the sink, the sun already set as Rory and Micah walked into the room, dressed in their best as Micah rushed over to her side and smelled the food.
She didn’t smile back at him, but she didn’t move away, either.
“Did she ever mention what kind of alcohol she likes?” Aydin asked. “Vodka, rum…? Might help her loosen up. I was thinking of sharing tonight.”
I turned my gaze on him, straightening my spine at the threat.
Get her drunk. Get everyone drunk.
No.
He yanked out the last stitch, and I hissed, drawing everyone’s attention as they looked over at us.
Aydin leaned into my ear, whispering, “You think I don’t know you’re planning something?”
His breath ran down my neck, and fear coursed through me. I hated having him so close.
“You’ve spent a year whispering in their ears, trying to turn them against me,” he gritted out, “but you’ll never be able to do what’s necessary to take power, here or anywhere in life, William Grayson.” He dropped his tool, meeting my eyes. “You have no idea what it takes to be me.”
He mov
ed away, and I held Emmy’s eyes as she watched us, paused in her stirring.
I remembered similar sentiments from her years ago, and a similar feeling around my friends even.
Nothing had changed for me here.
Not yet.
• • •
Thunder cracked outside, rain pummeling the windows, and I glared at Emmy as everyone sat at the dining room table and dug into their sandwiches. Her presence made everything harder.
