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“Well, I’ve never met any, have you?” He laughs. “Does all this interest in Penelope mean you’ve changed your mind about the engagement? I know you’re not convinced of the idea, but she’s a sweet girl, and I married for business; it’s what’s expected in our world.”
Sighing, I push my plate back and eye my dad. “Yeah, and look how well that turned out for you. Mom is a nightmare, and you were miserable for fifteen years,” I say dryly.
“Well, yes, but we had you, so that worked out pretty well.” He smirks.
I can’t help but smile back. I love my dad even though he’s trying to force me to marry a girl I can’t stand, whose family is actually turning out to be a hundred times worse than I thought. “Look, Dad, I know the idea of having access to the Rhodes billions is making your dick hard, but I can’t stand her. I can barely tolerate being in a room with her for more than an hour at a time. If you force me to marry her, I will be more miserable than you ever were with Mom, and there’ll be no grandchildren because I’ll never touch her. Fuck, even the thought of having to share a bed with her is repulsive. Is that what you want for me?”
His eyes go sad, and his lips dip down into a frown. “No, that’s not what I want for you, but you have to?—”
“No, I don’t,” I interrupt him. “We have money, Dad, plenty of money. Tying myself to Penelope and changing my life to abide by the rules of that will is not something I’m prepared to do, and as my dad, the only parent I have a relationship with, I’d think you’d understand that.”
Dad rubs at the back of his neck and exhales loudly. “Okay. I didn’t realize you felt this strongly about it. I’ll stop pushing for an engagement, but I don’t think the Rhodeses will, and we can’t afford to alienate them. When Penelope gets this money, they’ll be too powerful to have as an enemy, so tread carefully.”
I nod. “I will. Thank you, Dad.”
“It’s a good thing I love you, kid, because you just cost us billions,” he says with a horrified shrug.
A burst of laughter falls from my lips. “Love you too.”
Sliding on my blazer, I text my driver and let him know I’ll be driving myself to school. I’m tired. My dreams were plagued with flashes of weird purple eyes, and I woke up with a resolve to figure out exactly what kind of game Penelope Rhodes is playing.
My dad might have agreed to give up on the idea of me marrying Penelope, but he’s right, her parents won’t let this go so easily. I need to find some leverage to get them to back off, and the best place to start is with Izabella. No matter what bullshit excuses they make about Penelope’s twin being antisocial, I don’t believe it. She’s not just a loner, she’s invisible.
Grabbing the keys to my Range Rover, I head down into the garage and slide behind the wheel. My dad and I have several garages full of beautiful cars, but Lamborghinis and Porsches aren’t exactly covert, and I don’t want Penelope to know I’m watching.
Parking my car at the front of the lot, I kill the engine and lean back in my seat. From here, I have the perfect view of the town cars and occasional chauffer-driven limos as they deliver the children of the rich and richer to the school steps. I recognize the license plate on the Rhodeses’ car, and once her driver opens the door, Penelope emerges with a flourish from inside the blacked-out interior.
I’m not sure if Izabella is even in the car, but I’m not surprised when their driver closes the door and pulls away. More cars arrive, drop off kids, and leave, but Izabella isn’t in any of them, and as the clock ticks closer to the bell ringing, I consider that maybe she isn’t coming. Just as I’m grabbing my backpack from the back seat, a very familiar car appears at the entrance steps for the second time.
The driver circles the car, and this time Izabella appears, so similar but so different from her sister when I really compare the two. A scoff falls from my lips as I watch her mount the steps in a faux Penelope strut, but Izabella just isn’t her sister, no matter how much she looks like her.
An idea blossoms in my head, and it’s so deliciously brilliant that a smile spreads across my face as I think about it. I hate Penelope. Her entire personality is constructed around the adoration she receives because of money that’s not even hers yet. She flaunts her so-called superiority and acts like every single person is beneath her or a tool for her to use. Her parents are leeches, and Penelope is little more than a puppet, whoring herself out on her dead great-grandfather’s demands.
I don’t know what’s going on with Izabella, but I don’t believe the bullshit they tried to feed me about her just being antisocial. It doesn’t explain her arriving late and not being collected until everyone else has left. It doesn’t explain the fact that no one seems to know she exists or why sometimes she acts like Penelope, like the school owes her their attention, and then other times she behaves like a ghost here, hiding herself from view. It feels like there’s something more going on, but I have no idea what it could be.
Dad told me not to make an enemy of the Rhodes family, but he never told me not to play with them a little. I need to teach Penelope that I don’t give a fuck how much money she comes with. I’ll never make any kind of alliance between our families.
Nodding determinedly, I quickly forge a plan, trying to convince myself that this is just a fuck you to the Rhodeses. It has nothing to do with Izabella, even though something about her is taunting me.
It bothers me that she’s hiding. It’s bothering me that no one knows she’s here, that no one sees her, and it bothers me that now that I know what she looks like, I just don’t seem to be able to look away.
11
IZABELLA
I’m one hundred percent not disappointed when Gulliver doesn’t appear at the end of the day as I’m dashing from the side of the building and toward where Mark is holding the car door open for me. It doesn’t matter that he’s become a symbol for me retaining my identity. It’s not like we’re friends, we’re barely acquaintances. So no, absolutely not disappointed, not at all.
But it was nice, if only for a brief moment, to have someone at school talk to me and really know who it was they were talking to.
Shaking off the stupid thought, I climb into the car and settle into the cool leather seat.
“Mr. Winslow isn’t joining you tonight?” Mark asks, his eyes catching mine in the rearview mirror.
“No.” I shake my head. “I think he was only here yesterday to double check that he didn’t imagine me,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh. “At least now he knows about me, Mom and Dad won’t be able to force me to pretend to be Penelope and…” I trail off, not wanting to talk about the things my parents suggested I should do to appease Gulliver.
“My offer still stands. Any time, it doesn’t matter when, call me and I’ll get you out of here, I’ll keep you safe,” my sweet driver says, his voice laced with so much sincerity I have to swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me that you care enough to want to help.” My voice cracks, and I pull in a shaky breath. It doesn’t matter that Mark and probably Mrs. Humphries know exactly what’s going on with my family, I still can’t actually come out and admit it.
