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“Not really,” I finally say when it’s obvious that the old man expects an answer. “Maybe I’m just high. What was it you gave me again?”
“Less than we should have.” Vaughn cracks his knuckles as he steps back. “You were saying, Grandfather.”
Thin fingers drum on the arm of his chair as Richard continues to study me. “Our deal was fair. More than, considering the circumstances. When you came to me, crying that you’d been played with so unfairly, I offered an ideal solution. A solution that would leave everyone involved with what they wanted.”
“You have no idea what I want,” I tell him.
“Fair enough, but I offered you more than was required. If you had simply ended the pregnancy like I asked, then there never would have been that unfortunate incident with my older grandsons. They may have gotten a little carried away, but I’m sure you understand that we have to do what it takes to protect our family line. The bastard child of a family with one foot in the poorhouse will never be part of the Ashbridge legacy. Allowing it to be born would have been a tragedy for all parties involved. And things worked out well for you Pratts, whether or not you acknowledge it. Without my help, your father would still be drowning in debt instead of managing to tread water. I understand that impressive home of yours has been mortgaged enough times that your grandchildren will still be responsible for paying it off.”
My voice is barely above a whisper. “Debt?”
“Almost ten million dollars of it I paid off myself. Well worth the cost of making this all go away and I considered myself duty-bound to help a fellow alumnus of Havoc House.” Rheumy eyes skate over my body, his gaze leaving what feels like a trail of slime in its wake. “Although, in my day, we didn’t allow just anyone to join. Your father must have been lucky enough to matriculate in a year when pickings were slim.”
My father got paid off. That explained why he didn’t raise any sort of legal fuss when Olivia had been hurt. He’d always been the distant sort of paternal figure, but the reality of it is still sickly shocking.
My gaze moves to Vaughn’s brothers. Baron and Lincoln look bored, like they’re just waiting for this to be over so they can get back to the party. “You beat my…me…you beat me so I would miscarry Vaughn’s baby.”
“The baby you claim belonged to my grandson.” Richard seems taken aback by the surprise on my face. “Considering the circumstances, you cannot blame questions arising about parentage. Every student at St. Barts has seen evidence of your…many indiscretions.”
That fucking sextape. And indiscretions? As if calling a girl slutty in a polite way somehow makes it better.
My narrow gaze passes over Vaughn’s brothers and I infuse my voice with as much disdain as I can muster. “Such big, strong men who hit a girl when she’s already tied up. Too bad the ladies are only willing to put up with you when they’re drugged or unconscious.”
Baron starts forward with murder in his eyes, but Vaughn steps in front of him with a murmured word.
“Can we just kill her already?” Lincoln asks.
A shiver races up my spine, but I force myself to turn back to Richard. “Is that why I’m here? So you can kill me?”
“I suppose there is no getting around it now. I’m not in the habit of providing second chances. Or third, in your particular case.”
Baron and Lincoln start toward me when a sound not that far off from a sonic boom goes off above our heads. The walls reverberate with the impact, dust and pebbles shiver rain down from the ceiling as the ground shivers under our feet.
Lincoln frowns at the ceiling. “What the fuck was that?”
“We should check it out…” Vaughn starts.
“You two see what that ungodly commotion is.” Richard flicks his hand at Baron and Lincoln before shifting his attention to his youngest grandson. “Vaughn needs to clean up his mess once and for all. Then we will rejoin you upstairs for the festivities. I’m told most of our guests have arrived and I hate to keep them all waiting..”
Vaughn stands stock-still as his brothers brush past him. Neither of them so much as give him a pat on the back or a word of encouragement.
Maybe killing ex-girlfriends is just another family tradition.
I don’t start fighting my restraints until Vaughn pulls out the knife. The blade is dull in the low light, but I still catch the gleam of a serrated edge as he raises it in front of me. My elbows press against my sides as I try to make myself a smaller target when he steps toward me.
Even though I told myself I wouldn’t beg, my brain has no control over the frantic words that spill from my lips. “Please don’t…I’m not who you think I am. Vaughn. Stop. Please!”
“Tell Olivia why you want her dead, Grandfather.” Vaughn’s empty gaze never leaves mine as he presses the blade to my neck, not quite hard enough to cut the tender skin. “I think she needs to hear it.”
His chair creaks as Richard leans forward. He gets close enough that sour breath coasts over my cheek when he exhales. “Because there is nothing I detest more than a woman who does not know her place. One who thinks herself better than she is. You are a leech of the worst sort, my dear. You latch onto your betters, intent on sucking them dry before they cast you aside. If I thought you would learn from the lessons you have already been taught, then perhaps we could come to an arrangement of some sort. However, I recognize your type because I’ve dealt with it many times before.”
Richard chuckles darkly as my eyes widen. “You seem surprised. You should not be. Nothing about you is unique, little girl. Do you really think that you are the first girl with delusions of grandeur and a pretty pussy who has tried to worm her way into my family? You are far from the first and you will not be the last.”
My voice is so dry that the words practically come out in a croak. “You’ve killed before.”
It isn’t a question.
Richard acknowledges my words with a small nod. “I prefer not to get my hands dirty, but I have overseen a few disappearances. We only kill when there are no other options. Most social climbing sluts are easy to deter with threats or money, often both. But certainly there have been times when words are no longer sufficient for the task. Occasionally, someone is made to disappear or meets with a tragic accident. It is a detestable necessity, but the Ashbridge name must continue on in the way it always has.”
