Pretty Little Prey, page 19
“I don’t want to understand,” I yelled, grateful that the sound would be swallowed by the wind and the water. I wondered if she was watching now.
Her little idea hadn’t been all that great. I’d seen through it in an instant. I shoved back the feelings I’d had, though.
“I guess the two of you thought up this brilliant plan to get a picture of me with your dick in my mouth?” I moved forward, steaming. “Great plan, got really close.”
His brow furrowed at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t put dicks in your mouth if you don’t want people taking pictures of it,” he shot back.
I took a step back in shock. “Wow,” I said, the fight draining out of me. “You never were really the man I thought was hidden behind that mask. And you never will be.”
“Emma, please. Wait! I’m sorry—”
But I just shoved past him. He was irredeemable. When a person shows you who they are, what do they say to do? Believe them. I ran back up to the house, ready to storm back up to my room. But on the way, I stopped and made one little change to the note Lucille had so kindly left for me by the coffeepot.
You have now failed to uphold your dinner responsibility twice. Once more and I will let Mr. Cumberland know. Remember, you are here because we allow it.
L.
Household responsibilities are going to be redistributed more fairly from now on. We’re all here because Dad made it so. Things are changing around here, or I’ll let Mr. Cumberland know, and I think I have a lot more proof than you and Ashleigh do.
E.
26
Ashleigh had bulldozed past every line that existed in humankind.
I ran my fingers through my hair, my feet wearing pathways into the marble floor of my bedroom. I growled like a lion, hungry for the taste of blood. And as God as my witness, I knew Ashleigh would never stop.
She’d never let up so long as I threatened whatever idiotic inheritance she was so passionate about getting her hands on.
“Stupid son of a bitch,” I hissed.
I clasped my hands behind my back. I stopped and drew in a deep breath as the faint smell of horse manure wafted up my nostrils. Wind whipped through the window I had cracked open and I rushed toward it, slamming it closed with fervor.
And as I closed my eyes, my mind ran away from me.
I tried meek and mild, and what did it get me? My hair chopped off, for starters.
I scoffed. “Then, I had that dumbass sex tape leaked.”
And she spread it around to everyone she knew before tossing her leftover scraps at my feet for a second shot.
I growled beneath my breath. “Fucking bitch thought I’d actually suck that boy’s dick.”
After everything I had dealt with and everything I had put up with from a girl whose neck I wanted to strangle with my bare hands, it astounded me that she thought I wanted to be like her. After all, that’s what she kept doing. She chopped my hair off in a shape that resembled her own hair. She tossed Dillon at me as if he were some sort of chip to cash in at some dumbass attempt to get more revenge porn to sully my reputation with, in the process. I mean, who the hell did she think I wanted to be? A lower version of her?
“Joke’s on her, doesn’t get any lower than that,” I murmured.
Well, if that sorry excuse for a sack of bones wanted to believe that I was eager to be just like her, she had another thing coming.
And so did Dillon, if he honestly thought I’d suck his damn dick.
My cell phone rang out in the middle of my bed, and I reached for it. As I gazed out the window, staring toward the stables that had quickly become my peaceful place, I answered the phone without even looking to see who was calling.
And as Annie’s voice poured through the phone, every word she breathed brought me relief. “Hey there, gorgeous. That video of you was finally taken down everywhere. I figured you’d want to know.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Oh, God. How many places had it up?”
She snickered. “Our high school alumni pages, for one. But, shockingly enough, that’s it,” she said, probably regretting her words.
I blinked as I let that reality dawn on me before she spoke again.
Yet when she did, I heard her voice fill with regret. “I’m sorry. I know that comes as a shock, but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out.”
I nodded mindlessly. “It’s okay. I know you were just trying to protect me.
She started talking quicker. “I would’ve had it down sooner, but—”
I swallowed my pride. “I’m not upset with you, Annie. It’s okay. I just—wait.”
“Yeah?”
I tilted my head. “Is that why they finally came down? Because you stayed behind the people that admin the page?”
“No, actually. That’s why I was calling, initially. It says that the video was removed by the poster. I guess Ashleigh finally saw the light.”
But I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Ashleigh would never…”
Dillon.
It was the only thing that made sense. Ashleigh had no shame. She had nothing holding her back in life, and she took full advantage of that on a regular basis. I knew she didn’t take it down. But, Dillon? There had been brief moments—I mean, minuscule split seconds—where I thought I saw the soul of a decent person behind his notoriously mischievous eyes.
Maybe this is Dillon’s apology.
I snickered. “Too little, too late.”
Annie paused. “What was that?”
I shook my head quickly and opened my eyes. “Nothing. Just… don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?”
I perched on the edge of my bed. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s just—can we talk about something else?”
She giggled. “All right, then. What’s going on? Anything new?”
My voice fell flat. “You mean, other than my life being absolutely and utterly ruined?”
She didn’t skip a beat. “Yeah, other than that.”
I barked with laughter while I considered telling her all that had happened since we’d spoken yesterday. But, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Not just yet, anyway. “Fuck.”
“What?” she asked. “What is it?”
I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t have this conversation right now. “Duty calls. I have to go.”
She groaned. “I really hate that you’re living there. I miss my best friend.”
I smiled as I stood to my feet. “Then, how do you think I feel? But, just think, after I’m done with this hellhole? We’ll have more money than we know what to do with?”
“We? That’s your money, crazy!”
I turned to face the window again. “I know, but once it’s actually my money and I can walk away from this bullshit for good, you and I are going on that trip to Brazil we’ve always talked about doing.”
She squealed into the phone. “Girl, you already know I got my passport last year, with Mom and Dad’s approval. Are you serious? We’re really going to do that?”
I giggled. “I’ll need a place where I can legally drink and go clubbing until my legs hurt so much I can’t stand.”
“Hell, yeah! Brazil, here we come!”
“And until then, you can keep me sane by calling me at least twice a day. Got it?”
“Morning and night, how’s that sound?”
I tucked my hand beneath my arm. “Sounds like I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
I heard her smile through the phone. “Wonderful. We can get started planning our trip. Oh, I can’t wait! Maybe we can leave Ashleigh a little parting gift on the way out, too.”
I furrowed my brow. “Like what?”
She cackled like a witch. “Like putting hair removal cream in her conditioner, for starters.”
I gawked. “Oh, you’re bad.”
“So bad it’s good. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I drew in a deep breath through my nose. “Talk soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
As I hung up the phone with the only person who seemed to understand me nowadays, I stared down at the blank screen. I sure as hell wouldn’t whine and cry about Ashleigh and Dillon’s actions anymore. They weren’t worth my time. They weren’t worth my energy. The Emma they thought they could push around and bring to the brink of tears was gone.
The fool that I once was had officially died.
“No more,” I glowered.
Today had made me realize that I did, like an idiot, have feelings for Dillon. But I wasn’t going to follow in my mother’s footsteps. I was no woman on the side. I was not a man-stealer. I was worth more than that, and I’d stick to my guns. Even if it meant making everyone around me look like useless idiots. Plus, if anything were ever to happen between Dillon and me, he’d have to choose me over Ashleigh once and for all.
Otherwise, I’d ruin him, too.
And I knew I could never do that. I could never hurt someone I loved. Plus, Dillon would never do that. He’d never give up his cushy little life to be with someone he thought was beneath him. So, as I stood there with the evening sun streaming through the window, I hardened my heart. I felt the door slam closed on the idea of love and making things easy on the people around me. Gone was the Emma who would keep her head down. Gone was the Emma who might play nice if someone asked her to do as such.
I was finally ready to step up and take my place in life. It was time for my half-sister and her pathetic excuse for a mother to see who they were really dealing with. I was battle-hardened, hard-hearted, and ready to level the playing field.
Even if it meant burying Ashleigh and her mother in the process.
* * *
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Dirty Little Secret
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Vanessa Saint is the joint pen name shared by authors
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FREE PREVIEW - RUTHLESS SAINTS
Perfect.
Privileged.
And poisonous . . .
* * *
You know them. The Instagram-influencing, pampered, never-had-a-problem-money couldn’t-fix, heirs of our nation’s elite.
* * *
Most people never get any closer to these ‘American royals’ than their social media streams, but not me. No, I spend my days up close and personal with the famously infamous.
* * *
Picking up trash and cleaning their toilets is the opposite of glamorous, but it’s afforded me a few perks—like a scholarship to the exclusive Bryers University.
* * *
Thank god the Carlisle heirs, brooding sexy Jude and colder-than-ice Lila, haven’t caught on to the fact that their housekeeper—is also their classmate. I’m already an outsider in enemy territory, and if the rest of the school finds out, a huge target will be placed on my back.
* * *
I’ve been careful and kept my head down. But I screwed up.
* * *
Because now, I’ve found myself on Jude’s radar.
* * *
Suddenly, our paths are constantly crashing into each other and I can’t escape him or his dark, pensive stare and wicked smile. Deliciously hateful sparks fly with each meeting, and it should push me away, but all it does is draw me in.
* * *
But I have to be careful.
* * *
Because letting him in, comes at a high price.
* * *
And the odds favor one outcome.
* * *
This is a dark bully romance intended for readers 18+. This book contains dark themes, including abuse, violence and sexual relationships that some readers might be uncomfortable with.
* * *
Chapter One
* * *
BROOKLYN
* * *
Damn, damn, damn.
I ran down the stairs, yanking on my coat as I went. I was late again, and the Carlisle Manor was not a forgiving household when it came to tardiness. When I got to my car, I prayed a thousand times it would start on the first try—at least just this once. Shoving the key into the ignition, I held my breath, smiling in relief as my beat-up little Civic roared to life right away. I quickly peeled out of the driveway, knowing that if I could hit every light just right, I had a slim chance of being on time—maybe.
The looming clouds overhead boasted of a storm approaching. A dark storm, swallowing up everything in its path. It reminded me of the Carlisle Family and their fortunes and fames. It reminded me of the rich elite I tailored myself to for my job just to put myself through school. It reminded me of the wasteful byproducts of their parties I swept up after, and the women they trolloped through the house at all hours just to simply shove the scantily-clad women out the door before someone caught them. Not that they’d get into any real trouble. Oh, no. Their money saved them from things like that.
But apparently, the gods were in a forgiving mood, because I sailed through town effortlessly. Which meant less forethought was given to the work I was about to do just to earn myself a bit of cash. I knew the world wouldn’t stay kind to me, though. And when I hit the front entrance of the sprawling estate, the ‘luck’ I was all too familiar with in my life reared its head again.
Blocking the gate was a sideways-parked Ferrari, white smoke choking out of the back exhaust. A group of people, too well-dressed to even consider walking the five-hundred feet of concrete to the front door, milled aimlessly around the gate. I pulled up behind the overpriced piece of metal and leaned out the window. The only thing I cared about was trying to gauge if I could slip my car between its bumper and the iron bars. The thick smoke made it hard to see clearly, but I had a feeling I could do it.
It would definitely be close, though.
“Ew, Jude. Who’s driving up in a Honda?” A snotty voice that I knew all too well groaned from just beyond my window. Her golden blonde head peered through my windshield, trying to figure out who could possibly be behind the wheel of this car and headed into that house.
Not like I needed the reminder.
The vast dissimilarity between my life and theirs was wider than the distance between here and Mars. My only consolation was that I could take refuge in knowing I was not infinitely alone in my situation. Most of the world were mere paupers compared to the upper echelon of the wealthy elite. And when I say ‘wealthy elite,’ I’m not talking about pro football player money or entertainment money. I’m not talking about ten-million dollar contracts a year and owning a first vacation home down in Florida. I’m not even talking about famous actors and actresses that can afford to preach about climate change before dipping in and out of press conferences in their private, gas-guzzling jets!
No, I’m talking about them.
The ‘one-percenters’ whose family wealth started in the early days of America’s creation. The people whose net worth isn’t only derived from the land they own and the money they have in the bank, but how much of the world they possess at their fingertips. I’m talking about the top of the one percent. The people who threw their money around in politics to keep their position in life. The people who can’t flood the stock market with their money all at once for fear of crashing the rest of us into oblivion. I’m talking about the kind of wealth that makes The Queen of England look like a woman that might reside in a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. That’s the kind of wealth I’m talking about. And it was gathered right outside this stupid gate.
Which brings me to the ‘king of heirs’ standing before me—Jude Carlisle.
Jude was… hard to explain. The man himself was a conundrum of frustratingly sexy with a huge dose of entitled jerk. Unfortunately, he was also the most attractive guy I had ever seen. Tall, ripped, with black curling hair that fell across his forehead and over his ears, he had the tan of someone who never sat inside for very long. He had no idea who I was, but I had worked for his family for a long time, and anytime he was near enough, it was his dark eyes that caught me. His brooding look and laid-back persona told the world he didn't give a fuck, but those eyes said something different. To me, it seemed like he was always watching… and always ready.
