Deception, p.3
Deception, page 3
“So Tokyo was a success,” I say, interrupting him from his tirade that’s seconds from turning nuclear. “What’s next on your agenda?”
A beat of silence fills the room aside from Della’s soft sniffling. Dad visibly relaxes, peels his glare from my sister, and regards me, a smile forming. When I was a child and Mom was still alive, I thought him to be majestic like a king. Dad had all the answers and brought me lots of gifts. He hasn’t always been…a monster. At one time, he was good.
But Mom’s pregnancy with Della was complicated. Her body was depleted, she lost an incredible amount of weight, and was dying by the time she gave birth to Della. The doctors had hoped she’d recover once the baby was out, but after a few weeks, she died of a sudden heart attack. The strain of carrying Della had deteriorated her organs, specifically her heart. One day she was here, and the next she was gone.
And in those six years since, Dad has clearly blamed Della. Time only made the wound fester.
“I’m going to be taking on a protégé,” Dad says, smirking. “Apparently, according to my CFO, it’s long overdue.”
The news is surprising to me. My father doesn’t usually make time for such things. He’s a shrewd businessman who threw his entire self into the company after Mom died. It’s always about making the next dollar—hence his Tokyo endeavor—but never about teaching others.
“That’s not the only thing Gareth had to say.” Dad pauses as Noel bustles into the dining room with a tray filled with plates. “Thank you, Noel.”
Noel’s cheeks burn crimson and she nods. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Croft.”
He flashes her a wolfish smile that turns my stomach. It’s as if everyone around us is blind to his monstrous behavior. I hate that no one else sees him the way his children do. While he blatantly flirts with Noel, I glance over at Della. Her tears have been swiped away and she’s scowling. If it were just us, I would tickle her until she smiled. Since I can’t exactly do that, I make a silly face at her before quickly schooling my features. The corner of her lips twitch. An almost smile. Better than nothing.
After Noel deposits each plate in front of us and pours our wine, she slips away quietly. As soon as she’s gone, the heaviness of Dad’s anger clouds the room. Della is not-so-quietly clanging her fork against the china as she shovels green beans into her mouth.
“What else did Gareth say?” I urge, drawing his attention to me once more. “You’ve piqued my curiosity.”
He relaxes, offering me a teasing grin. “He had much to say. Actually, some of it involved you.”
My brows pinch in confusion. Me? I’ve only met Gareth a few times, all of which he was preoccupied talking business with Dad. None of those times did he ever even take the time to notice me, much less speak to me.
“He wants me to intern for you?” I ask, guessing the only plausible thing I can think of.
Dad barks out a laugh. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. You’re a Croft, not some unpaid college intern brat.”
“Then what could he possibly have to say about me?”
“There are…influential people in this city. People he thinks you should meet.”
I study Dad, frowning. Since when? He rarely lets me out of the building. Now he thinks I should meet influential people. A sick, uneasy feeling turns my stomach.
“It’s time,” Dad says, darting a glance over at Della, “that you leave the nest. Get out there and meet new people. Schmooze and represent the Croft family as the goddess they no doubt will see you as.” He beams at me. “Gareth says one of the Constantine cousins is single and recently moved back to the city. A young fellow, fresh out of college and looking to make something of himself, which is admirable. Perhaps we could arrange a meeting.”
I blink at him in shock.
“Don’t look so surprised.” He cuts into his filet, his lips still curled into a smile. “I can’t keep you as my little girl forever, though I know we both would love that.”
Panic shoots through me and the room spins. I should eat to chase away the dizziness, but I can’t move or breathe or think.
“But who will watch Della?” I whisper before swallowing hard. “She needs me.”
It’s not that she needs me to care for her, because technically that’s what Sandra is for, but Della needs me emotionally. I’m the only person who truly gets her. The only person she trusts and loves. I know that she sometimes acts out when she’s tired or overstimulated and just needs a second to herself. I know how she likes her snacks arranged on her plate or which bows are her favorites. It’s all those little things she needs me for.
Of course, I can’t say that to him. He already thinks I baby her too much.
Dad takes a bite of his steak and chews, his features darkening. I want to reel the words back in, but I’ve already cast them into the depths of his resentment toward her.
“This little attachment she has to you is unhealthy,” he says after he chases down his meat with a healthy swig of wine. “You’re not her mother, Landry.”
His words strike like the belt he’s used on me and Della both in the past. I visibly flinch, and then hate that he saw my reaction.
“Besides,” Dad continues, “Della has Sandra.”
Sandra is an uncaring robot. She flits about, doing Dad’s bidding, and adds no extra emotion or care. I might not be Della’s mother, but I am her family. I can give her what no one else can. Love.
Della only has me.
“But, Dad—”
“I know this is hard for you,” he barks, slicing my words off the end of my tongue like a sharp blade, “but you’ll get over it. Della will be starting school soon. I have tutors lined up for her beginning next week.”
“She won’t go to the private school I went to—”
“Landry, she can’t go to school with all the damn elites in this city.” He snarls, whipping his head in her direction. “She’s a fucking embarrassment.”
Anger flashes hot inside me. My tongue burns with the need to lash out at him. To tell him he’s the embarrassment. The waste of a human being we call Dad. We deserve better than this.
Della bangs on the table with her utensil. I snap my head up to see her staring fiercely at me, her fork gripped in hand like she might use it on Dad. Forcing a smile, I sign to her that everything’s just fine and to eat.
“Eat,” Dad booms. “Now.”
Her nostrils flare. She’s so tiny but filled with a lot of anger. Thankfully she goes back to eating without a fuss. I swipe away my tears, my mind reeling. He wants me to date? To get out there and meet wealthy guys? And then, what? Marry one of them?
The thought of leaving Della here all alone for the next twelve years is almost too much to bear. I wish I could wait until Dad is at work, load her up on a bus, and disappear somewhere across the country. We could be safe and happy. She would be loved.
But Dad would find us.
I know he would. His resources are endless and his wealth runs even deeper. We’d be plucked from whichever obscure town we landed in and planted right back in this condo. But his wrath would end up destroying us in the end. Especially Della. His trust and adoration of me—my only tool in my arsenal—would be completely wiped away.
But twelve years feels like forever. We can’t last that long. I have to figure something else out.
My mind fights to go back to a night not long after Mom passed away. That night he struck me for the first time. I was in his office, trying every number combination possible on his safe, looking for pictures of Mom since most had disappeared after her death. It took weeks for the bruise on my face to heal and I wasn’t permitted to leave my room until it did. All my teachers thought I had the flu.
No, I can’t bring that on us both. I’ll figure out a way to get us out of his crossfire.
“I suppose a few nights away each week won’t hurt,” I say in a shaky voice, forcing a smile. “You always know best, Dad.”
His features soften and his blue eyes twinkle as he looks me over. “Good girl. Your father does know best. I have another surprise for you. It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.”
I frown, unsure of what this could possibly mean. The only thing I want, and have for a long time, is freedom for me and Della. Nothing else.
Well, there’s one thing, but he doesn’t know about it…
He pulls an envelope from his inside pocket and slides it across the table toward me. I glance down at the emblem on the envelope with Landry Croft scribbled in someone’s neat handwriting across the front.
Oh my God.
I reach for the envelope. NYU. College. I didn’t even bother applying. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t leave Della. Mom was a stay-at-home mother and Dad always told me my trust fund would make it so I’d never have to work a day in my life.
“What’s this?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“You’ve been accepted.” His eyes flash in a knowing way. “You know I always keep tabs on my little girl. You’re too precious to me for me to let anything ever happen to you.”
He’s been spying on me—my computer search history to be exact. What else could I have looked at that he might have seen? Terror burns in my gut. I hope to God I didn’t look at anything that might come back on me and Della.
“I didn’t apply.” I gnaw on my bottom lip to keep it from shaking.
“I pulled a few strings. Anything for you, my love.”
“Thank you,” I force out. “I didn’t think it was something you’d allow me to do.”
“You’re eighteen now, sweetheart. You’re a woman and you’re going to do great things.”
I nod as if to agree.
But I don’t.
Because leaving to “meet people” and to “do great things” means leaving Della. I don’t like this sudden need to separate us. It feels like the beginning of something far more sinister.
Chapter Four
Sparrow
Dogs on a leash.
That’s what Sully calls us, but fuck, we’re spoiled little bitches.
I prowl through the parking lot at NYU in my brand-new Audi R8 Coupe, like a panther stalking his prey.
The Croft princess.
Seek. Defile. Destroy.
Easy. If simple tasks like fucking around with some chick gets me gifts like my hot as sin new car, then so be it. I’ll be Bryant Morelli’s little bitch. Pride can take a damn backseat. I’m not like Sully. I can grin and bear it because the rewards Bryant often tosses our way are too good to pass up.
We were going to draw straws on how we’d divide and conquer, but Bryant had specific assignments for each of us. I’m to be in a couple of her classes three days a week. Sully, on the other hand, got the boring as hell task to do some job at the Croft home. Scout, naturally, is going to be the snake that slithers into Croft’s world and bites when they least expect it.
Not sure how Bryant finagled us into these positions or what strings he had to pull in order to make it happen, but I’m just fine with my task.
College.
It’s the one thing I really wanted…before. Before Scout got weirdly obsessed with our stepsister, dragged us into his shit, and earned us the beatdown of our lives. Back then, when we were spoiled assholes, I was on the track for success. Our mother was a renowned plastic surgeon to the elite and had hella connections, but I was smart and athletic. I didn’t need for her to buy my way anywhere. I’d planned to do it all on my own.
Now, Bryant is offering Harvard back to us. Again, Harvard is something I wanted to achieve all on my own and resented the fact Bryant wanted to hand it to us on a silver platter. But, when I’d seen the despondent look in Sully’s eyes, I knew we had to do this. He’s been spiraling for a year now, lost without his Harvard dreams. At least, with this job, I can help give it back to him. Even if I have to accept Bryant calling all the shots. And Scout doesn’t give a shit about Harvard, but he does give a shit about us, which means he’ll play along too.
My mood suddenly souring, I pull into a parking spot but don’t shut off my car. It still has the new-car leather smell, which is surprisingly calming. I inhale a deep breath and exhale my irritation. Scout is a dick of epic proportions sometimes, but he’s my brother. It’s not his fault he’s a little fucked in the head. I probably stole all the good shit in the womb. He may have conned me and Sully into terrorizing our stepsister, which ultimately led to her boyfriend handing our asses to us in the worst possible ways, but we did it together. Always. That’s what we do. We’re triplets.
Like now…
We’re in this thing with Bryant Morelli together. We’ll continue to be his “dogs” until he decides to let go of the leash. Or until Scout bites him.
Smirking at that thought, I turn off the vehicle, grab my bag, and climb out. Students are rushing around since it’s nearing eight this morning. I’m not too worried about being late. It’s not like this fake college gig is going to last forever.
Harvard is on the horizon. Mom would be so proud.
Thoughts of Mom have me gritting my teeth. Because of the Constantines, she’s serving some hard time. Malpractice. It’s not her fault ugly people got uglier after their surgery. She was a plastic surgeon, not a fucking miracle worker. Winston Constantine, though, in his bitchy endeavor to ruin our lives, made sure to pull together quite a collection of people who could testify against my mother. His power, influence, and money sealed her fate.
Which is why I’m all too pleased to help fuck up his world again. Even if it’s through less direct means. Stirring up shit for his family in an indirect way will feel like we’re getting some retribution.
As though on cue, my knee twitches in pain. I went a little too hard on the treadmill this morning. I’ll probably deal with the aftereffects of that fated day until I die.
Goddamn Constantines.
Ignoring the ache in my knee, I stride across campus to where my English class is located. Several hot chicks glance my way, coy smiles on their pretty lips. I acknowledge each with a smirk and a chin lift. Maybe I’ll have better luck in finding a piece of ass at college. Tinder is a waste of fucking time.
I’m not here to hook up, though. I’m here to meddle in the Croft girl’s life. Landry is her name. Like what the hell kind of name is Landry?
When I reach the classroom door, I peek in, searching for the girl I’m supposed to be following. Bryant had given me a physical description, but only had an older picture of her when she was like ten or eleven—all big teeth and frizzy blonde hair. Apparently, this chick doesn’t have social media. So, I’m guessing I’m looking for a total nerd, because seriously, who doesn’t have social media these days?
People chatter, the auditorium-style classroom echoing with the dull roar, while they wait for the instructor to begin, but my eyes are scanning the place for my target. Lots of nerds and lots of blonde ones, but I’m not getting spoiled rich girl vibes from any of them.
Until her.
One chick, toward the back, stands out in particular. She sits in a regal way—back ramrod straight, chin lifted, fingers clasped on top of the tabletop. The chick isn’t exactly a nerd, but I wouldn’t say hot either.
Her sleek golden-blonde hair reaches about shoulder length, grazing her delicate collarbone as it curls inward. Nice tits are hidden behind too much clothing for this time of year, much to my annoyance. At least if I have to bother with her, having a nice rack to look at would be a perk. It’s clear she’s wound tight and has a stick jammed so far up her ass, I’ll never have a chance at pulling it out. My cocky smile and great physique are usually enough to get a woman to bend to my will, but something tells me Landry Croft will be different.
Some guy beside her with a lame-ass curly bush sprouting out of the top of his head is chirping things at her that only garner forced, polite smiles from her. He’s clueless. She won’t even look at him. The girl on her other side eyes me with interest and then leans in to whisper to a friend on the other side of her. I attempt to make eye contact with my mark, but she ices me and everyone else around her out, only looking ahead toward the professor’s podium.
I drop my bag on bush boy’s desk with a loud thunk, my laptop inside responsible for the sound. He jolts in surprise and quickly sizes me up. The wince I’m met with tells me he knows he’s no match.
“You’re in my seat, bro.” I casually thrust a thumb behind me. “Move.”
His mouth gapes open. “We don’t have assigned seats—”
“Man, I didn’t stutter.”
Iciness prickles over my skin. It takes all of two seconds to realize the chill isn’t coming from the air conditioner, but instead from the glare of the Croft girl. Good. She needs to understand I’m a part of her world now.
The dork at her side grumbles under his breath but complies with my demand. After he storms off, huffing insults under his breath as he passes me, I slip around the table and drop into the seat beside who I’m assuming is Landry.
“’Sup?” I give her my signature chin lift and smirk that makes women weak.
Her lip curls up in disgust. “You’re an asshole.”
So she has bite. A smile threatens to break free, but I stifle it. “And, after three seconds of being in here, I deduced you’re a bitch. Guess that makes us partners.”
She ignores me as she opens her notebook and neatly writes today’s date at the top of her paper. I watch each precise move with interest. As soon as she’s finished, she shoots me a sideways glare.
“Are you going to stare at me the whole time?”
I shrug and lean back in my seat, stretching my long, jean-clad legs out in front of me. Unfortunately, in order to fit in with the college vibe, I had to trade my suits in for this shit. “Probably. I hate English, so chances are I’ll be bored as fuck within ten minutes. Looks like I’ll have to settle for staring at you instead.”
“I wouldn’t waste your time,” she mutters, somehow sitting even straighter than before.
