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Tears burn behind my eyes. But they’re not tears of sadness.
They’re tears of anger.
I stand up and slam my hands down on the table hard enough that the plates rattle. Serena has to catch her champagne flute before it falls over. “Okay, fine. Let’s have all this out right now.”
“Olivia…” Anya starts.
“No. You all want to whisper to each other about what an embarrassment I am and talk all this shit about me whenever you get the chance, that’s fine. But let’s get a few things straight first.” I point a finger at Maisie and then Serena. Maisie visibly recoils while Serena glares at me. “Neither of you have missed a single Havoc party since the beginning of the year. Every weekend. Every time they decide to throw open the doors and ply whatever girl stumbles in with alcohol and whatever else, you’re there. And if the rest of you weren’t crawling up the steps of Havoc House, it’s only because you weren’t invited. Anyone here who says they don’t care about that is a fucking liar. We’re all here this weekend for fucking Havoc House and not a single one of you plans to skip the Bacchanal.”
“Preach,” Felicia murmurs, surprising me. I shoot her a grateful look.
Maisie’s lips thin into a line, but she knows as well as I do that I’m speaking hard truth. Havoc House represents the only social scene worth engaging in at St. Bart’s. Every single one of these girls would die inside if they were cut off from it.
“Is there a point in there somewhere?” Serena asks, rolling her eyes.
“My point is that we’re the same, you bitch. The only difference is that I’m not jealous of you,” I reply sweetly. The angry look on her face makes it clear that I’ve hit the mark. I doubt it’s even Drake specifically that she wants, but I have access to Havoc House that she doesn’t and that shit burns her good. “The only reason you’re so focused on me is because it distracts you from taking a long, hard look at yourselves. There, but for the grace of God and all that shit. Havoc House only has the power it does because you all give it to them. Ever ask yourselves what would happen if you all just stopped going to their parties? If you refused to let them treat you like Kleenex? Guys pledge Havoc House because they think it’s the best way to get laid. All of us share the blame for that.”
No one says anything as I glare around the table. A few of the girls look away instead of meeting my gaze. When I finally force myself to look at her, Olivia’s face is entirely expressionless. But some indefinable emotion flickers in her eyes as she studies me. For a second, I can almost believe that I’ve gotten through to her, at least a little.
“Slut says what?” Serena whispers and the table breaks into nervous laughter.
“Shut up, Serena.” Anya sounds tired, but her voice is firm. “You know she’s not wrong. Just let it the fuck go.”
Olivia looks away and murmurs something to Maisie, who just shakes her head as she watches me. Whatever moment we might have had is long gone.
I don’t sit back down. Enough with this shit already. If my options are staying here or crawling back into bed, there really isn’t much of a choice. “Thanks for breakfast, ladies.”
Felicia gets up to follow me, but I wave her back down. Not only I’m in the mood to be alone, but I don’t want her picking sides when it’s so obvious that mine is the wrong one.
“I have to get ready.” I cast Serena a scathing glance. “Pledges are supposed to arrive early.”
My vision blurs as I rush through the packed restaurant. I’m just barely aware enough of my surroundings to avoid crashing into a table or knocking a tray out of some unsuspecting waiter’s arms.
I’m officially giving up on Olivia. If that pack of bitches is who she wants to be with, then I’m done standing in her way.
The bank of elevators is empty as I push the call button. Someone steps up beside me and it takes a beat too long for me to realize they’re standing closer to me than they should be. A prickle of awareness shoots up my spine just as a hand clamps over my mouth to muffle my small scream of surprise.
I feel a burst of pain as a needle is stuck in my neck. By the time I hit the ground, I don’t feel anything at all.
A familiar face hovers over me, blurred and fading fast. I open my mouth to ask why he’s doing this, but the only sound that comes out is a garbled moan. Whatever drug he shot into me has turned my tongue into heavy mush in my mouth.
Vaughn’s grim smile is the last thing I see before passing out completely.
“I’m really sorry about this, Olivia.”
Chapter Thirty
“I’m telling you it wasn’t her,” I insist sharply, barely able to keep up as Cole barrels down the hallway like a wrecking ball.
“Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” Cole punches the elevator button hard enough to crack the plastic. “We’re just going to look.”
This is my fault for not keeping it a secret that I have a key to her room. “You won’t find the ledger here. She didn’t take it.”
“If that’s true, then it shouldn’t bother you if we make sure.”
“You’re not going to find the fucking ledger in her room.”
“You keep saying that.” Cole casts me a grim smile as the doors open. “Makes me wonder who you’re really trying to convince.”
