I turned around to look straight into the icy stare of Hank. "Hello," I said, smiling as innocently as I could. "Do you want something to eat? I do. I'm starving."
"Where have you been?"
He wanted nothing to do with my bullshit, but I was honestly famished. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a tub of roasted chicken leftovers, placed it on the kitchen island, and opened the lid. The smell made my mouth water, and I shrugged as I picked up a small piece of white meat from the container. "I was outside, now I'm inside." I put the chicken in my mouth and chewed.
It was amazing. If only I had some cheese to dip it in..
"Are you drunk?" Hank walked closer, lowering his voice as the front door shut and dad groaned from the entrance.
"Tiny bit," I admitted, illustrating by holding up my thumb and index finger, letting them almost touch.
"I saw you dancing with James Davis at the ball, and when he turned up here, I wanted to know you hadn't been out with him." He sighed, just as dad's groan got higher. He was getting closer. "I'm disappointed, you should've—" he stopped to turn his head when dad entered the kitchen, and Hank groaned, "—you should've eaten before you emptied the whole wine cellar."
"Having fun tonight?" Dad smiled at me, and I nodded, another huge piece of chicken filling my mouth so I couldn't speak. I would've said something stupid. "Let her have some fun, Hank. It's not like she's glueing herself to my boss' son, like her sister."
Well, no. James was the boss' son's best friend.
"Again?" Hank seemed to drop his anger and disappointment towards me. My eyes darted between them as I kept stuffing my face with the delicious chicken. The skin was still crispy, even.
"Damian's tired of it. He sent James to say it's enough."
All three of us turned towards the hallway when the front door opened and shut, and the rustling of keys dropping onto the dresser let us all know who was back home. I picked up more chicken, feeling myself sober up more and more with every bite.
Dad and Hank shared a look, just before Nina waltzed into the kitchen, staggering a bit as she came to a stop to stare at us. "What's going on here?" she asked, giggling once the words were out of her mouth.
"I just had a visit from Damian Strac's partner," dad began, crossing his arms. "He told me you're hanging onto Damian. Again. And he said it's enough. If you don't back off he'll ban you from the club for a month, and I'm tempted to send you to Durfair to take your sister's place."
Nina scoffed and walked around the island, her arm bumping my shoulder as she picked up a piece of my chicken. I almost wanted to growl at her, but I figured that would cause a lot more fuss than I needed at the moment. So I let her eat. A little.
"I'm securing my future, dad," she said, "I thought you'd be proud that I could bag the heir."
"Why would I be proud when I want you away from danger?" Dad sounded angry, and I took a step to the side, dragging the container with me away from the explosive anger radiating from my family.
I met with Hank's stare, and he sent me a look that told me to listen, because this talk was about me too—dad just didn't know it yet.
"I would be better off with a man as high as possible in rank," Nina defended, slurring her words a little more than I did before I started stuffing my mouth.
Dad huffed. "Are you so drunk you don't remember what happened to Jean Strac, then? Or your own mother?" His hands connected to the stone countertop, and as I tried to take another step away with my tub of chicken, Hank's hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me. Dad continued, "Women in the Strac family rarely make it. They're seen as the men's weaknesses. Michael's enemies are my enemies, and the worst of them has already taken so much from us."
Nina narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth, but dad started speaking again before she could get out even a sound. "You remember Orlov? The guy who took Michael's wife, Damian's mother? He would take you too, if you got too close. I can't have that happen."
"I'll keep her away from him," I said, my mouth still full of food. Dad turned towards me as I swallowed and nodded, not really sure where I was going with it. "I can go out with her, and we keep each other away from the danger."
Nina nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's an amazing idea, sis!" She walked over to me and put her hand on my free shoulder. I was now trapped between her and Hank, clutching the plastic container against my stomach. "We can keep each other safe. Together."
I wanted to disappear now.
Instead, though, I decided to put more chicken into my mouth so I couldn't ruin this any more. The look in dad's eyes told me he was disappointed, yet he was thinking about it.
"They're grown ups, Kevin," Hank said, squeezing my shoulder as if to say something to me. I didn't know what, though, and I was afraid he was going to tell dad what James really did here tonight. "I'm as scared as you are that something'll happen, but...damn it, you can't lock them up in here anymore."
Dad's eyes widened, but he shook his head after just a second. I was confused, and I'd already eaten enough cold chicken to make me throw up if I walked too fast up the stairs—yet I put another piece into my mouth. Just to shut me up.
Nina clutched my shoulder and placed a kiss on my cheek that reeked of alcohol, and I did my best to send dad a smile. I was a damn grown up, just like Hank said, and if I had to convince dad I kept Nina away from Damian to get free of this castle, I could pretend to do just that. She would probably forget I existed if he turned up somewhere anyway, and I'd be free to roam the city as I pleased.
It was a great plan. And, honestly, we needed to back each other up more. We were sisters, and lately we'd been bickering a lot more than normal. I wanted to change that.
Dad groaned. It rumbled in my chest, and I carefully lifted my gaze to look at the thin line his mouth had formed. "Fine," he muttered. "I can't force you to do anything you don't want. If you promise to keep an eye on each other and never seek out Damian or any of the other members of the family, I'll lift the house arrest."
My ears rang with shock. Nina jumped around the island and hugged him, thanking him profoundly and with a lot of kisses, while I nodded to the promise. I didn't dare open my mouth, in fear of something completely and utterly dumb coming out.
Hank leaned down and whispered, "That promise includes James, Elina." Then he squeezed my shoulder again, and joined dad as he made his way out of the kitchen.
Nina winked at me. "Thanks. We'll regroup in the morning. I need to sleep off this buzz."
As she, too, disappeared, my tub of chicken and I slowly made our way upstairs so I could get some sleep too.
My head had never hurt so much before in my life. It was almost impossible to focus on the words in front of me. Almost. But, I mean, it would have to be the apocalypse to keep me from reading a good, spicy story about a tall, dark and handsome man and the love of his life.
I didn't even read the words on the pages in front of me—I lived them. I saw it all happening, forgetting that I was still sat by the window in my once-tower, a tissue in my hand, ready for the inevitable heartbreak between the two main characters in the story. They were together now, finally, after being ripped apart by bad men who swore to destroy them both. But love conquered.
The worry I still had was the thickness of the pages still left unread. How on earth could there be a straight path to their happily ever after with over a hundred pages still left? So I had my tissue ready. And I was ready to love having my heart broken by fictional people—fictional men. The only real love I'd experienced so far.
The two characters embraced and shared words of affection for each other, quickly making their way to a bed. The hero didn't waste another second before he went down on his knees and gave the heroine all the pleasure she'd craved while they weren't together, and my insides tingled. I started imagining another face on the man. And my body moved from being a bystander, to leaning my head back and moaning.
I'd always had an active imagination, and I was punished for it now, having involuntary fantasies about James.
I closed my eyes and let the book slide down to the floor, my mind conjuring the low grunts of approval James would give if he was here.
My eyes flew open as I heard footsteps outside my door, and I picked the book up as fast as I could, finding my page again.
I had to still be drunk.
"Elina?" My sister's voice reached my room before she did. The door flew open and she barged in, a black skirt so small it could qualify as a headband around her hips. She wore a lacy bra, and held up two tops for me to see. One was pink with puffy shoulders, the other was white and most likely see-through. "Which one?"
"Pink," I said, mostly because the pink one would look ridiculous, and I was not a fan of her interruption.
"Alright," she said, dropping the pink one on my bed, and moving to put on the other one. I rolled my eyes and put my bookmark into the book, uncoiling to my feet.
"What's up?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.
"The Gold Rose, you and me, and Ava and Hennie." She pulled her blonde locks free from the back of the top, and smiled widely.
I wasn't in the mood for another night out; I'd already found my limit yesterday. I wanted to just finish my book and live in my own world for a little while.
Ava and Hennie were good girls, but they were as fond of parties as Nina, and I wasn't like that. There was a reason I let myself be sheltered for so long.
"Oh, come on," Nina urged, walking over to open up my closet, "you can see your new friend again. He's usually there."
"I want to stay in, Nina." My voice was sturdier than I expected, which made me smile.
"I want to go out, and you're the one who said you'd keep an eye on me." She chuckled. "Like your big sister needs that. Chop, chop. I'll wait downstairs."
And then she turned on her heel, leaving me alone in my room to probably change and do as she said anyway. Because I did want to see if James was there. Just out of curiosity—nothing more. If he was at that club, drinking, several times a day, dad might've been right on some parts. Drunk men rarely said no to willing girls, but I was living proof James did.
Maybe I could prove that again.
Or I could see if the real thing would be as good as my fantasies.