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“I’ll think about it,” I answered dryly. “Do you think Dad could cover up a second suicide if I jumped out of the window and hit the ground right in front of his guests?”
“Don’t be morbid,” Estelle scolded but the corners of her mouth tugged up into a smile. “I forbid you to leave me here alone.”
Even though I was twenty-two, I’d never be able to leave unless I was married off to some other rich asshole. I really was like a princess trapped in a tower.
No knight in shining armor was coming to save me though.
“I’ll try to hold on for your sake,” I drawled, walking towards the connecting bathroom and speaking over my shoulder. “I’m going to soak in the tub for a while and act like I don’t exist.”
“Don’t drown yourself,” she threw back as she left, making me chuckle. I loved that she let me enjoy my sense of humor.
The last time I’d made a joke in front of Dad about wanting to kill myself, he’d slapped me so hard my ears rang for days.
I quickly ran the water and tipped some of my candy scented bubble mixture in, making sure the door was locked before stripping down to my birthday suit and stepping into the scalding water.
I hissed at the burn, forcing myself to sit down and let the heat turn my skin pink, sinking lower until the water lapped at my chin. I closed my eyes, dreaming of a different reality and praying my dad fucked up and got thrown in prison or killed.
Chances were low though since he was the richest man in Kingslake, and money was power.
* * *
The party had gone on late into the night, keeping me awake until the early hours of the morning. I felt like I’d only just drifted off when Estelle shook me awake.
“Breakfast is in half an hour.”
“What time is it?” I groaned as I rolled over to glance at the clock on my bedside table, four AM staring back at me. “How the fuck is he ready for breakfast? He was still entertaining guests two hours ago.”
He had to be on drugs if he didn’t need more sleep than one or two hours.
Estelle sighed as she gave me a knowing look, the bags under her eyes getting worse by the day. She was in her mid-forties, never married or had children, but she looked older thanks to Dad running her into the damn ground.
“He’s got a meeting at six and doesn’t want to be late. I’ve put the dress on the end of the bed for you.”
“You know I’m walking down there in nothing but a shirt,” I muttered, forcing myself to swing my legs out of bed, not giving a shit that I was butt naked. Estelle knew she was likely to cop an eyeful when she woke me up, so she didn’t even blink at it. “Do you know why he wants to have breakfast with me?”
Shadows filled her eyes as she handed me one of my baggy shirts.
“You might want to at least put pants on. You have guests joining you.”
That was never good. Dad didn’t make a habit of showing me off, especially when he knew I was only going to embarrass him with my crude language and streetwear wardrobe.
“If he’s stupid enough to invite guests over for breakfast at four in the morning, then he shouldn’t be surprised when I show up looking like trash,” I snorted, slipping the overly large T-shirt over my head and grabbing some panties. “What kind of guests?”
“I have no idea. I was just told to make sure you attended.”
Guilt nipped at me, knowing she was probably going to get yelled at for not forcing me to wear the dress and put a full face of makeup on, but I pushed it aside.
She’d never once forced me to do anything.
She left the room to get ready to greet our guests and I waited until the last minute to walk downstairs. I wasn’t allowed to have a phone, not that I had friends anyway, so it wasn’t like Dad could call me and tell me to hurry up.
The moment I walked into the room and pushed my tangled hair back from my face, my eyes instantly clashed with my father’s, pure fury burning inside of him. His jaw was tight but he was doing a good job of hiding his anger as I padded towards the table, and I ignored the three guests as I loudly pulled out a chair before our staff could do it for me, dropping my butt down into it.
“Morning. Someone better be dying if you’ve dragged me out of bed this early.” I finally ran my eyes over our guests, a man and a woman who I’d seen at parties in the courtyard before, and a younger man who I assumed was their son. He looked to be in his late twenties, his brown hair slicked back with way too much product. “Hey. I’m Penn.”
Dad hated it when I introduced myself as that.
“Penelope,” Dad gritted out, trying to remain calm. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
