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Casper jolts, his head snapping my way. “Jesus! Fucking hell, Ainsley!”
Wait, he’s alone in here. Where’s the woman? There was no time for her to hide.
I’m fight ready, but that dies in a heartbeat because he’s alone in here and the voice is coming from his phone. He’s FaceTiming someone.
“Should I come back when you’re free,” I say, waving the flower towards his phone.
He watches the flower dance with a victorious grin on his face. “What?”
My stomach burns with jealously, and I really hate that. Whoever it is, I want to end her. Then him. “I could pick a number and wait my turn.”
He stares through me. “Ainsley, come and say hello to my sister.”
Hissister.
Hold up, did anyone know that Lucifer had a sibling? Not even Flora or Frederick mentioned another child.
My mouth hangs open like a fish. I’m forced to swallow my pride and a whole lot of humiliation.
“You’re busy,” I say, taking a step back. I have an oven that I need to stick my head in, so I’ll let him speak to his bloodysisterand come back later.
He sighs hard and nods his chin at his phone. “Penelope wants to meet you.”
She knows I’m here. The sister knows about me. This is weird. And good. A good weird. Fuck.
I take a breath and a few small steps over to his bed, then crawl on top of his sheets. His gunmetal eyes follow me like a stalker.
I wish he would hang up the phone.
I focus on his phone because I think I’d be red as a tomato if I looked at him. Wow, Penelope looks an awful lot like Casper, just the feminine version. Her black hair is tied on top of her head, and she’s wearing a shit-eating grin.
They have the same smug expression.
Great.
“Hi,” I say.
“Well, hi to you, Ainsley. I have heardsomuch about you.”
The room drops several degrees with Casper’s icy glare. I look from one sibling to the next. They’re having a conversation without uttering a word—one I’m not privy to.
“Okay, in my defence, your bother isverydifficult,” I say.
Penelope laughs. “He’s told me only good things, don’t worry.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You still think I’m an arsehole.” His glare is now for me.
God, he smells good. I lean in a little, my arm now pressed against his, the flower laying on my lap.
“Not all the time. Come on, you can hardly think that you’ve been nice.”
“And you have?”
“I never claimed to be perfect here.”
“I’m still on the call, you know,” Penelope says.
