Page 59 of Glutton for Punishment

“Are you ready to head down?” he asks. I hate that you have to do this so soon after what you just went through. If you’re not feeling up to it, I’ll tell them to fuck off and reschedule.

“No need. As you can see, physically, I’m as good as new. Mentally, it’s going to take more time. And I doubt they would wait that long.”

He looks murderous at the reminder, but holds his hand out for me to grab. “Do you remember everything we spoke about?”

We spent three whole hours going over everyone of his siblings and how to act towards them. As I had already guessed from the family dynamics he explained last year, most were vile. Each one seemed worse than the last. Like a pit of different snakes, each snake with its own unique poison, each with its own way of killing you.

“Of course,” I say, slipping my hand into his. “Avoid everyone, give them nothing, and try not to accidentally blow my pants off with my new gun. Pretty easy to remember.”

He drags a hand down his face, but I catch the grin he’s trying to hide. It does something weird to my chest.

The isolation room in Greed doesn’t sound too bad right now.

“Okay,” I say, squeezing his hand once before I can talk myself out of going. “Let’s get this over with.”

***

All eyes snap to me the second we step through the doors of the grand dining room. Sharp gazes look over every inch of me.

Smug smiles like they already know how this ends. Cruel amusement that doesn’t even try to hide itself, like I walked in already bleeding and they’re just deciding where to sit.

For a split second, I feel small. Microscopic. Like an ant pinned under glass while someone decides whether to study me… or crush me. I try to keep my face neutral as I scan the group.

Different expressions flicker across unfamiliar faces, and I try not to read too much into each one.

Open contempt that they don’t even bother hiding.

Before I have time to take in the over the top, excessive dining room, a smooth, amused voice cuts through everything.

“Ahhh, our Guests of Honor have finally arrived!” Councilor West announces from the head of the table. “Let’s take our seats, everyone.”

Maddox pulls me toward the far end of the table where a small, pale brunette sits… that must be Valentine, the oldest. And the safest, according to Maddox.

“Oh, Maddox,” his father cuts in. “I’ve assigned Arwen to sit over here. You’ve had her the whole year. Let the family get to know her a bit.”

Maddox’s hand tightens around mine for a second before letting go.

Walking head held high and my shoulders back. I keep my face smooth and repeat my mantra in my head.

Give them nothing.

I take my assigned seat—closer to Councilor West than I’d like—folding myself into the chair with controlled precision. My neck prickles with the weight of eleven sets of eyes, cataloging my every move. Vipers waiting to strike.

I glance at the woman on my immediate left.

She has shoulder length, straight red hair and full cheeks. Her dark, calculating eyes stare at me, a glass of wine dangling lazily from her fingers. There’s a smile on her face—but it’s not friendly. More like she’s enjoying the show.

I give her a small, polite smile. Nothing more.

Then I turn to my right, towards the head of the table where Councilor West sits.

Between us, a man sits ramrod straight, posture perfect, expression carved from stone. He looks a lot like Maddox, just a decade older.

Sharp features. Black hair. Eyes like midnight swallowed the moon.

There’s a scar cutting from his eyebrow down toward his nose. As I study him, he doesn’t even note my existence.

Just stares straight ahead.