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It reminds me of home. Of Heritage Pine Academy where I spent the last four years of my life. It’s the exact reason why none of us wanted to come here. The Alma Mater of almost all of our parents. It’s also the exact reason I wasn’t surprised at all that it’s the only place Carson was willing to go. Our spots guaranteed by our last names alone.
I’ve known him for almost my whole life and for as long as I can remember all he’s cared about is image. His family’s legacy. The money and power that it affords him.
Image is worth everything where we come from. Oak Crest was a chance to spread my wings and find out who I could be besides Brielle Montgomery, daughter of Sterling and Camilla Montgomery. Somewhere I could take off the mask of the perfect socialite daughter and just be the girl the guys always saw in me. But that is all it will ever be now. A dream. Gone, burned into nothing, like everything else that meant something to me. I drown those thoughts and feelings of regret. It won’t change anything. I made my choice and now I have to pay the consequences.
I meet the eyes of another harried freshman and paste the signature Montgomery smile on my face. Simple, sweet, perfectly polite, and just like that my new mask locks into place.
I curse internally, never letting that smile slip. I’m running late to meet Carson, an offense he won’t let slide. I’ve learned more about him than I ever wanted to in these last few months. He doesn’t just demand perfection, he expects it. Any flaw, any mistake, anything he perceives as not good enough is punished. I begrudgingly pick up my pace and drag my ass across campus for our usual breakfast date. Just one of the many tasks I have to complete for him as his doting girlfriend.
As soon as I round the corner I hear his stomach churning laugh, it caresses my skin like nails on a chalkboard. I’m not surprised to find him waiting on the porch with a few of his soon to be frat brothers. None of them officially a part of Sigma Phi yet as rush hasn’t even started. Yet all of their spots are just as guaranteed as Carson’s. Legacy means everything to a fraternity as exclusive and historic as Sigma Phi.
The Crawford family has been a part of the house for as long it’s been a part of BSU, so it’s no surprise how confident he is in his place here. I can only assume the others at his sides come from similar bloodlines if they are staying at this house with Carson.
Freshmen don’t usually live off campus, even if they are destined for a house as prestigious as this one, they can’t move in until after rush. Carson, like many of the others, would never get caught dead living in a dorm. So some of the legacy families decided to buy a house for the incoming freshmen to alleviate the problem.
This is the boys’ house, so I can only assume the men at Carson’s sides will all be carbon copies of him. I sigh internally. I guess I shouldn’t paint them all with the same brush. My father stood on these very steps once upon a time. Doesn’t mean I can trust any of these men though. I have to assume the worst about them. Especially if they’ve chosen to fall in line with Carson.
I take a deep breath, push my shoulders back, and plaster my perfected smile onto my face. Showtime.
“Carson.” The affectionate way his name rolls off my tongue makes regret burn in my stomach. The way his eyes light up as they trail over every inch of my body is enough to make me sick of breakfast before we’ve even eaten.
“Ah, there she is. Come and say hello to some of my brothers, Darling.”
I’d rather nose dive into a petri dish containing flesh eating bacteria, but my smile remains as I walk towards them. “This is Bradley Ackhurt and Keegan Halstead. Our father’s often play together. And this is Wilder Luxford. He’s also staying in the house.” The smug smile he used to introduce the first two men falters as he gets to the last.
I nod hello to the pair with a gentle smile and file away the tidbit about their fathers. Carson is far too comfortable with them. Too self assured. Too sure of his place above them. Firmly his bitch boys then. Bitch One and Bitch Two.
I only glance briefly at the third guy, Wilder, before letting my gaze focus back on the other two. Carson preens at my side and I know I’ve made the right call. Another bit to remember for later. They’re already establishing a hierarchy.
Neither of Carson’s cronies even bother to hide the thoughts in their heads with the way they look at me. He watches their eyes crawl all over my exposed skin and his smile only grows wider, satisfied over the approval and jealousy in their gazes. Of course Carson would already be surrounding himself with men as scummy as he is. Why am I even surprised?
It’s hard not to remember how the guys used to look at me, in a way that made me feel powerful and sexy, like I was their everything, like I belonged to them, with them. Carson looks at me almost the same way, like I belong to him. There’s no power to be found in his cold eyes though. I feel owned, a pawn, a polished piece of arm candy for the life he thinks he deserves. I hate it. I hate him.
His arm curls around my waist as he pulls me in close to place a kiss to my throat, his palm sliding down to my ass giving it a firm squeeze. Disgust turns sour in my stomach as I almost freeze, the violation rolling over my entire body, but it’s something I have to endure.
I pull back, just barely keeping my smile in place. “Ready for our date?” I ask as sweetly as I can manage.
The quicker we get this breakfast over with, the quicker I can ditch him and get on with my day. Anything has to be better than being leered at by his minions. His own smile shows approval, like he really believes the words coming from my mouth.
“Sorry, Brothers. Looks like my girl can’t wait to get me all to herself. She’s a little insatiable.”
The three guys with him all laugh, like what he just said was the funniest thing they ever heard. Money really can buy you everything. I refrain from rolling my eyes, my cheeks hurting from the smile still in place. These idiots aren't the only ones being fooled by my charade. Carson knows I don't love him, but he still thinks he's caught a pawn but one day soon, he'll realize I've always been a queen.
We say our goodbyes and he leads us to his Audi R8, opening the passenger side door to allow me to slide inside. Carson attempts to make the same usual small talk on the way over to the restaurant. Asking me pointless questions that I give non-answers to if I even bother to respond at all. He’s the only one who has anything to gain from getting to know me better. The idea of him being aware of my habits and schedule does nothing for me but set me on edge. I’ll do just about anything to keep him off the scent of what I’m really capable of.
He’s aware how much I don’t want to be here, aware we are both just playing the game until we can exploit a weakness. He found mine, it’s what got me here, but I’ve yet to find one of his. I’m not worried though. I will. If I’m going to be forced to stay at his side, I might as well make the most of it and get all the inside information while I can.
I’m just biding my time until I can get that video from him. I’ll free myself of my weakness. It isn’t like he can hurt the guys without it. They’re hundreds of miles away from us both. I rub at the ache of my chest at the thought, quickly dropping my hand when his eyes flash coldly towards the movement.
When we arrive the hostess preens at Carson’s name and we are led quickly to the best table here. He looks around appreciatively, before carefully pulling my chair out for me. I’m guessing this will be our new table, reserved every Sunday for the rest of the year. Carson likes his routines.
The restaurant may be different than the one he’s forced me to go to back home, but some things never change. As soon as we are seated, the waiter brings us water, both still and sparkling, three different kinds of juice, champagne, and a menu of which Carson orders from for both of us. Then I sit like the pliant girlfriend I am and listen to him talk about the dynamics in the freshmen house, about the internship he has started with his father, and this new deal he is working on. He’s been in talks with some new investors that would allow him to acquire several new businesses in one swoop.
I maintain a mask of polite interest, one of an adoring girlfriend who truly cares about the words coming out of his mouth but doesn’t really understand them. It’s a fine line to balance. Keeping the act flawless for passersby while never giving away my genuine interest into the pieces of information he’s giving me.
I keep mental notes as he talks. Trying to figure out what, if anything, I can use to strike back at Carson without it ever coming back to me. The house dynamics will be an interesting point of pressure for him over the next few months. I was correct in calling Ackhurt and Halstead his little cronies. That’s exactly what they are. Their families go back generations kneeling at the Crawford’s feet. Luxford, however, is a mystery. His family is in fashion, and while incredibly successful, they stay out of the politics that run our world. He will most likely maintain a neutral, indifferent, stance to just about everything that happens in the house. I can work with that.
Business matters will have to be dealt with differently. I’ll have to remain mindful of my father’s interests as well. I won’t have the privilege of moving out in the open, not yet. Once the video is gone, I’ll be able to tear him down freely, exact a revenge he never would have thought to fear. But why wait? They may say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I think it’ll be much more fun to watch Carson burn to ashes before he ever realized there was a fire. All while I sip my chardonnay, swinging the leash he thought he had tightly collared around my neck.
