Page 37

A sound leaves me, caught somewhere between a groan and a curse, and then I’m kissing him back. Images of our weekend replay through my head. Twisted sheets, defined limbs, his mouth on my cock, pounding music to cancel out the sound of my moans. And that was just to start.

Desire curls through me now, cancelling out the fear that had frozen me in place. Guiding me onto my back, we barely fit across the seats, but Everest braces one hand beside my head anyway, the other catching my jaw to tilt me exactly where he wants me. My fingers knot in his shirt, dragging him closer until his chest crushes mine and the leather seat creaks beneath our combined weight. The loose knot of his tie slips beneath my hand, twisting free as I pull, his hair falling forward for golden strands to brush my forehead.

There won’t be any hiding what’s happening here, and we don’t give a fuck anymore. Everest belongs to me, he always has, and I’ve gone to extreme lengths to ensure he always will. When my hands move to the buttons of his shirt, Everest finally comes to his senses and stalls my hand.

“Code,” he rasps against my mouth as I chase him for more. I’ll never have enough. Never be able to make up for all the times I’ve been forced to hold back. Pressing his forehead against mine, Everest manages to find a coherent thought. “Let’s get through this, and then we’ll go home together.” Home. Home is wherever we are able to be together, whatever darkened space we disappear into.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, curling his shirt into my fists. Gently prying my fingers free, his exhale washes over my face.

“Always.” His vow settles in my chest, loosening the desperation I was using to cling to him. I remind myself that I won. No matter what Nicholas does or says to me, I corrupted his precious son. It’s that smugness that allows me to nod and exit the car once Everest withdraws. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised, his hair mussed, and I find a small smile to gift him. He looks perfect like this, thoroughly wrecked and alive. Everything Nicholas tries to stop him from being.

Standing before the manor at his side, I prepare to take a step forward when fingers intertwine with mine. I freeze again, for a whole new reason this time. Glancing down, needing the visual proof to know I’m not hallucinating, I stare at his hand locked in mine.

“I mean it,” Everest’s voice is low and unusually gruff. “Tonight, tomorrow, whatever happens next, I’ll always be with you. I should reassure you of that more often.” His green eyes bleed with sincerity, harpooning me straight through the heart. My throat tightens, watching him exhale and haphazardly fix his tie with our joined hands and his free one. Reaching up, I smooth his hair, somewhat smarting him up before we face the devil together.

“Ready?” Everest asks. I shake my head.

“Nope.”

“Good. Me neither.” His mouth twitches, and with that, he leads me inside. Nothing changes in the manor. The hallways smell of lilies and old money, the stair railings are rich and polished, Kingsley is waiting by the archway to the dining room. The butler is tall, his frame appearing especially thin in a dark suit. Inclining his head to Everest first, his sharp eyes linger on our joined hands before gesturing that we should enter the dining room. Two steps over the threshold, he then hastily closes the doors with a defiant click.

And so it begins. The dining room is already set for four, a long table that gleams beneath low chandeliers, crystal glasses aligned with military precision, silverware arranged around empty plates like instruments awaiting surgery. Nicholas Calloway sits at the head of a long table only set for four. He doesn’t rise when we enter, but my mother does.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her in months. Marianne looks smaller than I remember, although that has always been her talent. Shrinking herself into whatever space her current husband occupies. Nicholas is her fourth marriage, and to her credit, the one she’s been able to maintain the longest. The perfect trophy wife as long as there are pearls around her neck and a designer gown on her liposuctioned body.

Safe to say, she doesn’t exude maternal instinct, not even as she rushes forward to plant kisses on my cheeks and forcefully shove mine and Everest’s hands apart before Nicholas turns in his seat.

“How is it you’re both late when my drivers know better than to be tardy?” he asks, barely sparing us a glance anyway. My mother’s pale gaze darts to me, imploring me to behave as she usually does when I’m around Nicholas. Simply behave, take the punishments, don’t argue back, don’t fuck around with his son, and we can all live pretty little lives of fakery. Unfortunately for her, I’ve always been a brat.

“Because no one gives a shit for time-keeping when⁠—”

“It’s seven fifty-eight,” Everest cuts in, making a show of checking the Rolex his father gifted him and expects to see fixed to his wrist permanently. Nicholas is out of his seat in the next second, his body large and imposing next to my mother’s tiny stature. My body reacts on instinct, every muscle tensing and my mind urging me to protect my organs, but through practice, I manage to withhold my responding flinch. I remain upright, shoulders tightly pushed back, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Being on time means being late,” Nicholas narrows his cold, assessing eyes on me. The shudder that prickles against my skin is kept under control until he turns the brunt of his attention to Everest. Every time I return to the manor, there’s always a moment where my two worlds collide, the image of Nicholas I’ve built up in my head and the one before me.

He’s a man. Just a man, not a monster. A man I’m now standing eye level with, having grown into my limbs. I’m still far slimmer, my muscle defined from being gangly rather than bulking calories and hitting the home gym each morning like Nicholas. The silver threads weaving through his dark hair may suggest he’s aging, but there’s no sign of it within his tailored navy suit. Placing a hand on my mother’s shoulder, his long fingers remain relaxed, his gold wedding band catching the chandelier light.

“Well, let’s not waste any more time,” my mother smiles, cutting through our stalemate. Nicholas humors her, returning to his seat at the head of the table. Everest strides ahead of me, pulling out a chair and looking at me expectantly. I let the smirk grow on my face, taking the chair and allowing Everest to tuck me into the table before placing himself between me and Nicholas, who ignores the whole display.

Over the years, we’ve teased our relationship in front of him, testing boundaries in private but never in public. I might as well sign my own execution papers the day I show affection to Everest in front of company.

Reaching for the pre-poured wine glass, I take a sip, unsurprised by the age and quality of it. Only the best for the Calloways. Dinner is served almost immediately, a silent stream of staff appearing with plates. Roast lamb, minted vegetables, and potato stacks are placed beneath our noses, the smell alone causing my stomach to groan. No one dares to start before Nicholas, who decides to wait for the staff to retreat before pinning me with a deadly glare.

“I’ve had two calls this week about you smoking weed outside of the professor’s quarters. I have bigger things to deal with than your disgusting habits.” Speaking of ‘disgusting habits’, I place my palm onto Everest’s thigh beneath the table. The move goes unnoticed as Everest leans his elbows on the mahogany surface and is immediately chastised for it.

“Why don’t we cut to the chase?” Everest presses on, leaning his forearms either side of his plate instead. It’s a special kind of torture, inhaling the rich smells and almost drooling whilst being forced to deal with family politics. Nicholas nods his head, reaching for his own wine.

“I spoke to the chief of police earlier this afternoon,” he swirls the red liquid and takes a sip. My ears prick up before my posture straightens. The chief of police is a regular around here, attending many parties and remaining in Nicholas’ back pocket. It’s that connection which I was most concerned about when finalizing the plan with Laura.

I must have gone very still, because Everest’s hand finds mine under the table and gives my fingers a squeeze, although he’s careful not to look my way. Placing his glass back down, Nicholas speaks directly to Everest now, allowing me to fade into the background.

“Your house has been cleared of suspicion. They believe the missing freshman was taken from elsewhere on campus.”

“Laura Hopkins,” I supply. Fake kidnapping or not, I refuse to let Nicholas belittle Laura by not even naming her. All three pairs of eyes around the table turn to glare at me for different reasons. Lifting my shoulder, I feign indifference. “Her name is Laura Hopkins.” Then, I lift my fork, spear my potato and start eating. Thankfully, the conversation continues without me, and I don’t feel the need to interject myself anymore.

“The missing freshman,” Nicholas growls, “had poor grades, little family influence, and no established position in the academy’s social standings.” Swallowing, the richness of the food turns bland as I listen to Laura being reduced to bullet points. Granted, these are the same reasons I chose her, but hearing it relayed back by Nicholas turns my stomach. I hate how much I’m like him.

“Why does any of this matter?” Everest asks, keeping his spine straight. “A girl is missing. Her background is irrelevant.”