“Victoria,” he prompts again as the smooth slide of the razor cruises over his chin.
I’ve learned to appreciate his patience with me over the years. Now, I’m benefiting from it more than ever.
“I need you to hurt someone for me and give me proof.” My head mimics his as he shaves along the underside of his jaw. “A beating will help. With pictures.”
My family’s all for me joining the Veronians but if they know about this extra hoop I have to jump through, it’ll be game over.
He pauses mid-stroke. “Who?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Why not come to me tomorrow?”
“Because I might not have been able to get here. What, with the O’Donnelly guards I have on me and yours, it’s not exactly easy to sneak away. Plus, I have to return to college in the morning. I wanted to meet you in person to ask this of you.”
To ask this of you?What is this—1824?
His gaze drifts to me as I curse myself. “Does that annoy you?”
“Does what annoy me?”
“The guards.”
“It probably should.”
“That’s no answer.”
I huff at his cool tone.
Nothing about this meeting is going how I expected.
Nothing.
And, my god, it’s exasperating. As well as exhilarating.
Nobody makes me feel alive like this asshole does.
“No. They don’t annoy me.”
“Why not?”
“If anyone knows that safety is a relative concept, Maxim, it’s me.”
“So, you feel safe?”
“Not entirely. There are always gaps in security. Especially when I’m on a college campus.” I eye him. “I’m surprised you allowed that.”
“‘Allowed?’”
“Yes. Camille told me about your agreement with her.”
At the time, how I was a commodity to him, how he’d backed her into a corner, had pissed me off.
What bothered me the least was the fact that Camille had murdered our father.
Still, wasn’t that proof enough of how enemies, even those within the family, could always get to you?
“That agreement ceased to exist in my mind when you were taken.”
