Page 48 of Coveted

“Of course you do.” I chew my lip. “Wait. One other thing.”

“Yes?”

“When you had my phone, you didn’t look at the notes app, did you?”

That’s where all the really embarrassing stuff is. Drafts of unhinged texts I would never actually send. Long-winded descriptions of my dreams. A list of glow-up tips painstakingly collected over months, none of which I’ve implemented.

Picking at a loose thread in the blanket on my bed, I wait for his answer.

“The notes app?” he repeats slowly, and I’m certain this time he’s teasing me. “Now you’ve made me curious.”

“No! It’s nothing. It’s just where I… keep notes,” I finish pathetically.

“I’ll be sure to check it out next time. Thanks.”

The line goes dead. Moaning with frustration, I let my phone fall onto the bed.

God. He’s like a hurricane. A vast, unstoppable, damaging force of nature.

Except a hurricane has the good manners to give you fair warning before steamrolling into your life.

I’m left staring balefully at my rigged windows, wondering what on earth I’ve gotten myself into.

Near four o’clock, I head to Darkbloom’s main entrance.

I barely heard a word during my afternoon classes. My mind was firmly on the fact that I’ll be voluntarily entering Lucan’s armory later today.

Before coming to Darkbloom, I thought I had some idea of the power that rich people wield, but I’m starting to realize I don’t have a clue. They genuinely live in a different world.

As I approach the shiny black sedan, O’Connor opens the back door.

“Miss Marlowe,” he says.

My face grows warm and I feel self-conscious. I’m not used to having doors opened for me, let alone someone driving me.

“Hi, O’Connor.” I pause. “May I use your first name?”

He smiles, his cheeks rosy. “Of course you may. It’s Cormac.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says with a gracious nod.

“Please call me Sadie. And—” I shrug in a would-be casual way. “Does Lucan really have an armory?”

His smile widens to a grin. “He does. I’m taking you to one of Mr. Hale’s family residences.”

“How many residences do they have?” I ask without thinking.

Oof, I shouldn’t have asked that. Prying is rude.

But then I remember that Lucan stole my phone to install surveillance, and I feel less rude.

“Stateside residences?” asks Cormac.

I shrug. “Er, sure?”

“Seven.” He counts on his fingers. “Eight, including Lucan’s penthouse in Ember Falls. That’s where he stays when he’s at Darkbloom.”