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What is right anymore? What does it matter if I get it wrong?

All the while, Stephen Panagos sits in his chair and watches me with a smug smile like he’s amused by this situation, and I want to scream to him and lash out, but I have no energy left. I’ve been burned badly enough by men like him and I’m done with them, done with them all.

My father exchanges some words with Stephen then steers me toward the entrance. When we’re outside, I spot Angelo as he gets out of the limo, but I stare at him and wave him away. He looks confused, but my father whisks me into another car, and by the time Angelo’s back behind the wheel of the limo, it’s much too late.

We’re already on our way to the airport and Daddy’s already making promises, none of which will ever come true.

Chapter20

Brice

Home feels empty. Even sitting in my favorite room in the house, the parlor in the very back of the structure with the antique fireplace and the big couches with all the mushy throw pillows and the super soft blankets, even that doesn’t make me feelcomfortable. It’s like my ability to feel safe in my own skin is forever gone, ripped out by Carmine’s lies and my family’s selfish indifference.

“He’s a real piece of shit,” Robyn announces and throws back a glass of prosecco. “An absolute miserable nightmarish piece of stinking dog turd and I wish he’d be forever squashed beneath the boots of an army of angry toddlers.”

“Toddlers don’t typically wear boots,” Cassidy says. “I guess unless it’s winter.”

“In this scenario, they all have on little tiny toddler boots covered in very sharp spikes.”

“He’s a fuck,” Sara says in her typical understated way, but coming from her that’s quite the indictment.

The sick part is some stupid piece of my brain wants to argue. I want to tell them that Carmine did what he did for a good reason. That I’m sure he didn’t plan on pulling me into this mess, or at least he didn’t plan on going as far as it did. My father stole from the company, he stole from the family, and his entire excuse isI was getting away with itbut how is that okay? Carmine might’ve been selfish in selling out Daddy, but he wasn’t wrong, he didn’t lie, he didn’t frame him. Daddy made all those decisions and broke all those laws. He’s only mad that he got caught.

But I can’t let myself justify Carmine’s actions. Even if Carmine was right and Daddy really is a criminal, it still can’t excuse what he did.

“The whole thing is beyond creepy,” Cassidy says. She’s sitting cross-legged near the fireplace and feeding it twigs while sipping from her prosecco glass. Of everyone here, she’s never visited the Rowe Manor and seems somewhat put off by the splendor. Not that I can blame her, the whole place is absurd. She’s officially back in the apartment now, although she admits she had a good time staying in the hotel for a while and living off Carmine’s credit limit. And not that I can blame her. Apparently, the spa was particularly relaxing, and my only regret is that I don’t get to see Carmine’s face when he gets the bill.

Robyn says, “Who would do something like this? I mean, seriously. I remember him from school and he was a total psycho back then, but I didn’t know he was, like, this mentally unstable.” She shivers as she hugs herself. “How’s your family taking everything?”

“They don’t seem to mind,” I say and stare into the fireplace. “Grandpa was a little annoyed, mostly because he has to go break the news to all his rich society pals and I guess because we won’t get any more Scavo money, but Daddy told him to marry Carmine himself if he wants to and that basically ended that. I think Grandpa is mostly happy so long as there’s money coming in fromsomewhere,and it looks like the company’s stock is stabilizing and might start to turn around soon, so that’s good.” Even though I don’t feel like it’s good at all.

“You could always sell some of these paintings,” Cassidy mutters.

Sara shoots her a deadly look. “Don’t be rude.”

But I wave her off. “No, she’s right,” I say and laugh lightly. “I mean, look at this place. It’s like a museum, right? A museum to our own arrogance. What’s the point of all this stuff? What’s the point of any of it?”

Robyn puts a hand on my leg. “Don’t let him do this to you, Brice. You’re better than this.”

“Are any of us better than this?” I look around at them and shake my head. “What Carmine did was wrong. I don’t deny that and I’m angry as all heck right now, but Daddy broke the law. Daddy’s going to jail even if he’s home right now waiting for his court date. I mean, what’s the point of all this if I can’t even trust my own family? What’s the point of anything?”

The girls are quiet. I can tell they’re at a loss. How am I supposed to explain the depths of all this to them? Sara and Robyn are closest to understanding, but Cassidy looks around and sees wealth beyond her wildest dreams and I’m sure it’s impossible for her to truly comprehend that none of this is ours, none of this stuff means a thing, it’s all just trappings and dressings and objects for show. I don’towna thing in this place. It’s like I live on a beautiful movie set, and I’m constantly aware that the furniture is rented and the stylist might quit at any second.

We’re all just a piece of the family, the great and glorious Rowe family, whatever that is. I don’t even know anymore.

The worst part is, I didn’t feel like this before Carmine. Maybe I wasn’t into the idea of the great and glorious family but at least I understood it and thought that it mattered. Then I’m with Carmine and he makes me see how empty everything is, how empty I feel all the time, simply by filling me up in ways I never dreamed possible. It’s not fair that it all started from such a terrible, ugly place, because for a little while there, I felt like we had something special. Something real.

And now it’s gone and I’m left with even less than before.

Sara gets up and comes over. She sits on my couch and moves close to me. She doesn’t reach out and hug me or anything but that’s about as touchy-feely as she gets, and I appreciate the gesture. Robyn hugs me hard enough for both of them, and even Cassidy comes over and snuggles in next to Robyn. I stay like that for a little while, only dimly aware that I’m crying, and I try to take solace in my friends. No matter how dark things are right now, at least they’re here to help me, and I love them for it. I wouldn’t even blame them if they stayed far away, especially Cassidy—she knows how dangerous it is to be around me right now—and yet here they are, drinking prosecco and talking shit on my gangster ex-fiancé like this is totally normal.

It’s not normal, not by a longshot, but I’m trying to pretend. And they’re helping.

We chat for a while longer, finish the bottle, and eventually the girls go home. Cassidy lingers behind while Robyn and Sara head to the car. “You sure you’ll be okay? Seriously, I have nothing going on for me back at the apartment. I can move in here and live in your closet if you want.”

I grin at her and give her a hug. “I’ve always wanted a closet friend.”

“The sound of my late-night typing might keep you awake but I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

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