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Chapter Two
Blair
An hour before maps said I would arrive, I pull up to the new house and just idle there, frozen as I stare at the mansion before me. It’s even bigger than the last house.I wonder who she had to fuck to get it, I think indolently as the engine purrs while I wait for the gates to open. As I drove through the suburb, the houses had got bigger and bigger... until this one.
Hell, this whole gated community looks like something celebrities would live in. And here I am, in leather shorts and a band shirt, my eyes lined and hair straight, with hoops in three of my ear piercings, a cross dangling from the other, and my cuff in. The tattoos on my thighs are on display in my tiny shorts as well. I stick out like a sore thumb. I would have been better staying on the other side of the train tracks I crossed on my way.
That part of the city was run-down and filled with graffiti and abandoned houses... but honestly, I felt more at home there than I do here. The house before me is no doubt filled with golden decorations and expensive decor just because they can. The gate finally swings open, and I pull through, stopping behind the mostly empty moving van. The back is still up, so they must be on their last trip inside. Grabbing my phone and bag, I get out and stroll up to the house, whistling as I go. Fuck, it’s even bigger up close.
It looks like someone took a stately manor and modernised it. It’s all bright white—seriously, how do they keep it so clean? There are more windows than I can count with two huge, front white doors with glass down the sides. It’s two stories, but at the top is a conservatory, a large round bubble that sticks into the sky made completely of glass, and I have a strange urge to explore it. The drive is sandwiched by perfectly manicured grass and flower beds, and I can hear a trickle of water somewhere—a fountain or a pool? Or both? Probably the latter with this house.
The house curves around and goes to the right, ending in a clear garage with three empty spaces, while the other side is filled with sports cars and bikes. My heart leaps, and I ache to touch them, ride them. I shuffle closer, reining in my desire to touch. They are pristine, and I don’t want to leave dirty fingerprints behind. In fact, I feel like I shouldn’t touch anything in this house.
The doors suddenly open, jarring me from my inspection. I turn my head guiltily for drooling over the rides and see my mother standing there talking to a man in a suit who she smiles sweetly at and kisses. I spot his greying hair from here, but he’s still tall and muscular, his three-piece suit tailored perfectly. There’s a Rolex watch on his wrist and diamonds in his cufflinks. He’s the money man. He turns, and when he sees me, he smiles widely, his blue eyes brightening with it. He’s good-looking, really good-looking if you are into that whole daddy thing. I bet his sons must be hot though, Meredith mentioned he had some.
“Well, hello, who do we have here?” he asks, his voice dark and low. His smile puts me at ease, but I look to my mother to see her frowning, almost glaring at me.
Brilliant.
However, when he turns back to her, she is all smiles and sweetness, as usual.
“Meredith, is this incredible creature your daughter?” he inquires kindly and then glances back at me. “She has told me so much about you,” he says.Liar. I smile anyway because he clearly means well.
“I have heard nothing about you. Let me guess, you’re getting married?” I ask tiredly.
Mother snarls but then straightens her expression, and with a smug look, she presents her hand to me. “Good guess, daughter,” she coos, leaning into his side. This rock is bigger than the last. Kudos to her. He leans into her with genuine happiness in his eyes. Poor man, she is going to eat him for breakfast.
“Nice. So, husband number four, your name is—”
Mum snaps then. “Blair, watch your mouth.”
He laughs. “It’s okay, Meredith. Blair, is it? I am Gareth Crew, and yes, I am soon to be husband number four, as you said.” He winks. “Don’t worry, I know about her past, but I genuinely love your mother and want you both to be happy here. I have set up a room for you in the hallway with my boys.”
“Boys?” I repeat.
“Gareth has three sons,” she informs me, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Your new stepbrothers.” I see the flicker of annoyance at the wordsons. Ah, I’m betting mother dearest didn’t know about them and she doesn’t like it one bit. Sharing money and attention? I don’t think so.
“Yes, well, they are on holiday right now and won’t be back until school starts, but I’m sure they can’t wait to meet you, Blair. Until then, my house is yours. I’m afraid I need to get back to work, so I will see you later.” He turns and kisses Meredith. “Ring me if you need anything,” he tells her, and then he smiles at me, heads to a waiting limousine, gets in, and drives off.
I whistle and turn to her. “Good pick. He seems nice, lots of money, but three kids.” I shake my head. “Getting sloppy, the money will go to them.”
She lifts her chin haughtily. “Not if I stay married to him.” She smiles like a snake, all cold and calculating. Fuck, she might as well just flash fangs. “I’m going shopping with his card, so do whatever the fuck you want. Just stay out of my sight.”
I salute her as she strolls away and another car pulls up, leaving me with the moving men and a mansion to explore. I need to unpack, which means I need to find my room first. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
* * *
I was wrong.
The house has eighteen bedrooms. Eighteen. Seriously, what do they need that many for? I also find a game room and a cinema in the basement that uses the whole floor, with a pool table, dart board, bar, and basically everything you could imagine. It’s definitely his sons’, the skulls and LED ‘Crew’ light sign giving it away. I find some pills, weed, lots of booze, and some discarded ladies’ underwear. Nice. I found an outside and inside pool, a spa, and three living rooms—and that’s without even exploring half of the rooms on the first floor.
This place is insane. I peek in the rest of the rooms, each one making me back away and shake my head. I just need my bedroom!
An hour later, I’m still stumped. The only floor I haven’t explored is that glass dome I spotted from outside. I discover more stairs leading up from the second floor, but it is mostly accessible from the back door. Huh, do his sons basically run this house? I tread up the stairs, and when it opens up at the top, my jaw drops.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
It’s basically an apartment. The whole ceiling is open and domed, and I bet at night you can see the stars. There are low leather couches with a white rug and a black coffee table to the left, with a cinema-sized TV on the wall. To the right is a huge kitchen, and there is a round dining table with a chandelier above it. In one corner, a goddamn motorbike is placed on a turning pedestal with intricate art painted on it—including the wordCrew—with skulls, roses, and flames. It’s very impressive, and I have to drag my gaze away to look around at the other parts of this floor. There’s a board in one corner with throwing knives sticking from it, an open gym behind the stairs I came up, and so much more.
