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I hate it.
And I can tell Dominic does as well.
“So…” Harvey dabs at his lips with a cloth napkin before setting it back on the table. We’ve just finished our final course for the evening—some fancy dessert that I can’t even pronounce, let alone make. I’m suddenly pissed that I spent hours making those darn brownies only to have him…what? Throw them away? Give them to the staff? Ugh. “Ellie, I hear you’re a musical prodigy. Is that true?”
I shift uncomfortably. I always hate when the conversation turns to me. “I wouldn’t say that?—”
“Oh, please. Stop being modest, El.” For the first time since this dinner started, a genuine smirk appears on Dom’s handsome face. His eyes shine with pride. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“Language,” Dana chastises haughtily, leaning forward so her ample breasts rest against the table. I notice that both Dustin and Doyle immediately home in on her tits. Gross. I suppose the only saving grace to their sordid affair is that Dana isn’t their biological mother.
But still.
Ew.
Harvey ignores his wife and keeps his attention on me. His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Is that so?”
I shrug helplessly, and that only makes Harvey’s smile widen. He slams his fist down on the table, causing me to jump, but that jovial smile never leaves his face. “It’s decided, then!” He stands, and we all immediately jump up as well, peasants desperate to appease the king. “We’ll head to the lounge to hear you play for us. The piano, isn’t it?”
“And guitar. And drums. And violin. And cello. And fucking Scottish pipes,” Dominic mutters, but thankfully, he does it under his breath, so Harvey doesn’t hear him. Even still, I elbow him in the stomach. He simply chuckles and slings an arm around my shoulders. “When are you going to realize how incredible you are, El, baby?”
“Shut up.” A blush infuses my cheeks as we step into a room I’ve never been in before. It—like the rest of the house—is richly decorated in shades of red, orange, and brown. Two couches face a stone hearth, and beside that is a bookshelf full of dust-covered tomes. A grand piano dominates most of the space, its black and ivory coloring almost jarring when compared to the rest of the room.
My fingers itch to run across the keys.
“Do we have to listen to this…child play?” Dana huffs, stomping inside behind me and all but throwing herself onto the couch. Dustin and Doyle claim the cushions on either side of her, despite there being an entirely unoccupied couch. Dustin continues to shoot me lewd looks whenever his stepmom isn’t looking, but Doyle simply appears curious. I don’t know which one is worse.
I don’t want any of these fuckers to be “curious” about me.
“Do I have to listen to your temper tantrum the entire evening? Because, my sweet, it’s not as attractive as you may think it is,” Harvey says drolly, casting his wife and sons a searing look. His gaze lingers on Dustin’s hand, which has come to rest on Dana’s knee. He’s not even trying to be subtle about it.
Oh…
Oh shit.
He knows.
There’s not a doubt in my mind that he’s aware of their affair.
I exchange a “WTF” look with Dominic, which he returns with raised brows of his own.
If Harvey knows that his wife is fucking his sons, then it probably explains why he wants Dominic to take over the “family business.”
“Come. Sit, Ellie. Play.” Harvey gestures toward the piano and then moves to lean against the wall, folding his arms across his pudgy belly.
I take a tentative step closer, self-consciousness gripping me by the throat, and stutter out, “I haven’t written anything new in weeks. So, um, this will be an older song.” I don’t know why I bother saying that out loud. It’s not like anyone has heard my older songs. Harvey wouldn’t know if I wrote this particular piece yesterday or five years ago. But nerves are making me jittery and seem to be scrambling my brain.
Harvey’s face twists in mock sympathy. “I’m sure it’s been hard for you to get inspired after the death of your friend. What was his name again? Ryder?”
“Ryker,” Dom growls out.
“Ryker.” Harvey nods gravely. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
I’m sure you freaking are, you perverted scumbag, I think scathingly.
Harvey was the one who told Dominic to “take out the trash,” so to speak. Harvey wanted Ryker out of the way, mainly because Ryker doesn’t have piles of money at his disposal or power to rule the world at his fingertips.
My body trembles with fury when I think about the reasoning for Ryker’s so-called death. The Divine One and POP wanted him out of the picture because he didn’t fit their image of a POP member. He wasn’t wealthy or powerful or influential. He was just…Ryker, and to them, that’s a sin all on its own.
