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I wanted to look behind me at Montgomery or any of the other men I went to school with and see if they saw what I did. Did they recognize Bellamy? It had been years since school, but she was still a Georgian Southern belle in our society. She mingled amongst us at the parties, at the dinners, at the high-class engagements, and yet, here she was in the pits of depravity now. Could this be a mistake? Surely, she knew what happened at the Oleander. She was no stranger to the tales of what went on under the veil of secrecy of The Order of the Silver Ghost. She knew exactly what would happen if I chose her….
So why was she standing before me with her shiny blonde hair, her pink glossy lips, and her perfect hourglass figure just begging for me to choose her as my Belle?
Oh my God… her mother. Her mother would absolutely die if she knew her precious daughter stood in the white ballroom of the Oleander. The thought forced a smirk to my lips. I sort of liked the thought of what a scandal this could cause. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea of soiling this perfect vision of purity before me.
And then a twinge of inferiority hit my gut like a semi. Could I handle Bellamy? Was I worthy of having her as my Belle? It was Bellamy fucking Carmichael!
Just like in high school. She was the cool kid, and I was anything but. And I hated her for it. Silent rage quickly replaced my momentary lapse of confidence, and without thinking any further, I took hold of the pearls around her neck and snapped them off her flesh.
Yes, she would be my Belle, and I would take great pleasure in breaking her.
Revenge. A delicate revenge would be mine by the time we were done with the Initiation. Not necessarily a revenge on her, but a revenge on the past. I would make her pay for all the times I had wished she would turn my way and give me a second thought, and I would also use the strength she always possessed to cement my position into the Order.
Yes, Bellamy Carmichael would make the perfect Belle.
Tying the black ribbon into a bow around her neck, I heard, “Emmett Washington, have you chosen your Belle for the Initiation?”
I took a step back from Bellamy in her perfect princess dress that I’d soon be tearing off her and nodded. “I have chosen my Belle.”
The sound of a loud banging cane and murmurs of the Order were the last things I heard as Bellamy and I were led out of the ballroom to the second-floor bedroom to consummate my decision. I knew what would be expected next.
Did Bellamy?
Did she know I was about to fuck her, with the Elders as our audience?
I glanced at her beside me and whispered, “Bellamy.”
“Emmett,” she replied simply, not turning her head to look at me.
“Is this what you want?” I had to ask. I had to know. “It’s not too late to back out.”
There were still belles downstairs entertaining the Elders… so I knew I could still choose another if she did completely chicken out. Now that reality could be slapping her in the face, I wanted to give her this last-minute chance to run with her bold but very naïve tail between her legs.
There was no way this little Southern belle knew what she was getting herself into. Not fully.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
And there was the sassy Bellamy I remembered.
I wanted a full conversation, however—sassy or not. I wanted to look her straight in the eyes as we spoke. I had so many questions, and yet there was no time for any of it. I also didn’t want to care why she was here. I didn’t want to see her as anything more than a Belle I’d use to earn my place in the Order. The conflict of emotions made me wonder if I chose correctly. Maybe choosing a complete stranger would have been better… and yet the pearls had been broken, and the decision had been made. We were in motion, and nothing could stop the progression of the night.
As we entered the bedroom surrounded by antiques of ancestors not of my descent and furniture that held memories of family not belonging to me, I made a silent vow to not let this woman get in my head. I would not revert to the quiet and nerdy kid I was in school with a secret crush on the popular beauty who mastered the hallways of Darlington. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel less-than. I wouldn’t let her take over the power and control. No, I would not allow one ounce of my power to falter.
