Page 60 of Vicious Kingdom

I scrubbed a hand through my hair. What was my next move in this game? I couldn’t go to her.

But I could go around her.

A wicked picture began to unfold. The anonymous tip sheets held the answer. Blackmail was practically second nature to our kind. One series of well-timed moves, and Annaliese wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late.

I slammed my foot on the gas and tore off. What happened next would leave a foul taste in my mouth, but it was only temporary. A few conversations with her father wouldn’t kill me.

And in the end, Annaliese would be mine.

Chapter 22 – Annaliese

“What about this?” Penelope held up a gravy boat.

“It’s hideous!” I snatched it from her fingers. “It’sperfect.”

“You know,” Penelope hedged, “where I come from, people buy wedding gifts the couple will actually use.”

“That reminds me…I never got you a gift.” I held up a swan salt and pepper shaker set. The long necks intertwined when they were placed on the table. Somehow, the designer messed up, and the eyes were looking in opposite directions on the cob, while the pen’s beak was a bit too long.

And the store wanted a hundred bucks for the set!

“Don’t you dare,” Penelope gasped.

I grinned. I was so buying this for her. Not only was I a trust fund brat, but I had my own fuck-you money. Heaps of it. The swan ceramics would be delivered by courier. They would be lavishly wrapped, with no name on the card. Oh, I could just picture Alessandro Mancini’s face when he opened it, and Penelope’s dramatic eye roll—

“Annaliese! Yoo-hoo! Annaliese Hertz, is that you?” a nasally voice called out, drowning the tinkling bell above the door.

Turning carefully, babying my swollen, wrapped ankle, I grinned. This day just kept getting better and better.

“Darling! You’re back! I’ve been dying to see you,” I gushed, hobbling to the center aisle.

“I’m back. You’re back!” the woman whooped, arms flung above her head like she was cheering her favorite sporting team. “This summer can officially start now!”

The antique store owner frowned at the display of bad manners, peering over her prissy rectangular spectacles that sat on the tip of her nose.

But Janet Cummbers was the reigning queen of society, and it would take the apocalypse to dismay her. She was almost ten years older than me and had managed the impossible feat of having everyone eating from her hand. Her parents left her money, but no one knew the exact balance of her net worth. That helped. But the brunette had a way of making people obey with a flick of her plump wrist.

Janet rushed to me and enveloped me in a cloud of Chanel No. 5 as we exchanged a hug.

She was good fun.

In small doses.

“And who is thisstunningcreature!” Janet gushed, pushing me aside and grasping the startled Penelope’s hands. “My dear, you are the poster child for…well, I don’t know what, but you are! And I’ve discovered you!”

I fought hard to hold back the laughter.

“I’m Penny, ma’am,” my friend drawled, a thick country twang laced with Midwest slur seeping into her voice.

The pressure from holding back the laugh increased. I clutched my sides.

“What a darling little shop. I was just lunching with Monica and the gang when I saw you come here. So I extracted myself from thetediousmeal to see what you were up to—and look! What a fun place.” Janet grabbed a pair of crystal wine goblets, flipped them over, then over again before slamming them onto the shelf.

The antique store owner nearly fainted.

“One of my college cronies is getting married this fall on the Riviera. I’m looking for the perfect wedding gift,” I explained with a sweep of my hand. “She’s eclectic, and this was the only place that would have something.”

“I see, I see.” Janet drew her attention back to Penelope. “It’s not you, is it?”