16. Gulliver
GULLIVER
Ihonestly don’t know why I’m doing this. I should have told my dad the truth earlier. I should have told the Rhodeses the truth. I should have told this whole room full of people the truth, but I didn’t, and I’m not entirely sure why. The look on Penelope and her parents’ faces right now is priceless, but the triumph I should be feeling is overshadowed by the strange sensation that’s filling my stomach as I rub my thumb over the Winslow diamond that’s now sitting on Izzy’s finger.
This ring is a family heirloom, not a trinket to be trifled with. My dad never gave it to my mom even though she so desperately wanted it, yet here I am giving it to a complete stranger as part of a game. This ring is supposed to be for the one great love of my life. That’s why my dad never gave it to my mom despite them being married for fifteen years. He knew she wasn’t “the one,” and I think deep down she knew it too.
My dick’s hard beneath my suit pants, and reaching down, I discreetly adjust myself. This is all a lie, but that kiss, that fucking kiss, was submission and desire and lust and revenge all rolled into one, and it was singlehandedly the hottest sexual experience of my life so far, even though we’re both still fully dressed. Her wide, confused, betrayed eyes look up into mine, and my entire body starts to react. I lost my virginity at fourteen, and in the last four years, I’ve fucked, licked, used, and discarded more women than most men get in a lifetime, but none of them have ever made me react the way I do the moment I touch Izzy.
When she opened the bedroom door earlier, I almost pushed her back inside the room, unwilling to play this stupid game when I could be losing myself in my Little Ghost’s body. Her hair is almost white, a color that’s so stark and ethereal that when it’s straight like both Penelope and Izzy usually wear, it seems harsh. Tonight, it’s a mass of loose waves, and I want to tangle my fingers in it and drag her lips back to mine so I can taste her again.
Tomorrow, I’m going to fucking kill Fitzy for giving her the dress she’s wearing. It’s modest, fitted, but not overly tight, yet somehow the fact it hints at so much and reveals so little is sexier than I actually thought possible.
Cries of congratulations mixed with shock and confusion fill the room, but I’m drowning in her as she continues to stare at me with those strange violet irises that confess so much about her secrets and pain.
This is all a game, but somehow not, and as I turn to address the people I brought here to witness this, I don’t feel as triumphant as I should. Instead, I wonder how Izzy feels. Is part of her jubilant at being seen? Is she happy that I’ve forced her out of hiding and into the spotlight she was intended to thrive under?
“Congratulations, son,” Dad says, clapping me on the arm, before he pulls Izzy in for a one-arm hug because I refuse to let go of her hand.
“Thanks, Dad, and thanks for getting the ring for me. I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” Dad says as he steps back so the next person can move forward to congratulate us.
The incredulous looks of shock on my guests’ faces make me want to grin, but I hold back my amusement and instead turn all my smiles toward my angry and confused fiancée. She’s tense, her entire body taut. I’m still holding her hand firmly, my grip unyielding, while she digs her sharp, perfectly manicured fingernails into the back of my hand, trying to get me to release her.
Davis, his parents, and his younger sister all offer us congratulations, but when his family steps aside, he pulls me in for a tight hug. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks quietly.
“I have no fucking clue, but I know I’m not ready to stop,” I murmur so quietly that I know only he and I can hear.
Releasing me, he flashes me an amused smile, laughing lightly beneath his breath. “Well, congratulations. Engaged at eighteen, how very old money of you both,” he says, his tone playful as he leans in and presses a kiss to Izabella’s cheek.
Barnaby and Trudy Rhodes step up to us next, and I instinctively pull Izzy into my arms and press a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.
“Gulliver, would you like to explain what the meaning of all this is?” Barnaby hisses in a low voice, completely ignoring his daughter as he addresses me.
This is it. This is the moment I should tell the truth, but there’s something about the unnatural stillness that’s settled over the girl pressed into my side that stops me. She’s stiff, frozen beneath my arm, until a silent tremor ricochets through her shoulders.
These are her parents, but there’s no familiarity between them, in fact, the way she’s acting is almost like she’s scared. So instead of confessing to everything I’ve done in the last twelve hours or ensuring the Rhodeses understand that Izabella was just as surprised by all of this as they are, I double down, digging the hole I’ve created a little bit deeper.
“Barnaby, Trudy, I understand that today must have been a shock for you, but I’ve fallen head over heels for your daughter. Honestly, I’ve always hated the idea of marriage, but Izabella changed everything for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“But…Penelope,” Barnaby says, turning to look pointedly at Izzy’s twin, who’s preening a step behind him, batting her eyelids at me like I didn’t just slide a million-dollar diamond onto her sister’s finger.
“What about Penelope?” I ask, playing dumb and forcing him to spell out the bullshit I know he’s thinking.
“Penelope is the future of our family…she’s an heiress…s…” He trails off. “They’re twins,” he hisses, glancing at Penelope again, his brow furrowed. It couldn’t be more obvious if he’d said it aloud, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand why I’d even consider Izabella when Penelope is the twin that comes with a billion-dollar inheritance.
A disgusted laugh falls from my lips, and for the first time since I escorted her downstairs, I loosen my grip on Izzy’s hand and allow her to pull hers free of my hold. Stepping forward, I smile as I lean into Barnaby, so it looks like I’m having a cordial, private chat with my future father-in-law. “You, your wife, and your evil, poisonous daughter are a fucking disgrace. I’m standing here, holding hands with your daughter. The daughter I think you like to pretend doesn’t exist. She’s my fiancée, wearing the Winslow fucking diamond on her finger, and you’re still trying to pimp out your other kid to me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I’m still smiling pleasantly when I straighten and move back to Izzy’s side, reclaiming her hand. “Don’t you want to congratulate us, Barnaby?” I ask pointedly through gritted teeth, my voice laced with a steel-like tone that brooks no argument.
Clearing his throat, he glances to his wife, whose lips are pursed into an indignant scowl. “Of course. Congratulations,” he mutters, finally darting his eyes to Izzy, then immediately looking away like she’s nothing to him.
An instinctive need to protect the girl I am indisputably using crashes into me, and I pull her into my arms. Releasing her hand, I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her with her back pressed tightly into my chest. When Barnaby steps aside, Penelope and Trudy step forward, both of their faces showing matching anger and disgust, like the two ugly sisters from the story Cinderella.
“Izzy, sweetheart, I’m sure your sister and mom are just dying to see the ring,” I taunt sweetly.
When she doesn’t move, I run my fingers along her arm, sliding my palm under her limp hand and lifting it up, offering the huge ring adorning her finger up for her family to see. Caressing my thumb back and forth over her soft, creamy skin, I have to swallow a laugh as both mother and daughter’s eyes widen when they take in the perfectly clear Winslow diamond on the simple gold band that somehow fits Izzy perfectly, despite me not having it sized.
When Penelope’s eyes harden and narrow to slits, I smile widely at her and speak before she has a chance to. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“What?” both she and her mother say at the same time.
“Well, after all, you being too sick to come to dinner on Friday is the reason that Izabella and I met. It was love at first sight. I just knew in an instant that she was the girl of my dreams, and it’s all thanks to you. If she’d never attended in your place, I might never have even known she existed, so thank you. Your beautiful sister has made me the happiest man alive.”
Trudy’s face turns white, then red so quickly, I’m honestly concerned that she might actually combust when she turns her furious glare at Penelope, who splutters, “But Izabella said?—”
I interrupt her again. “We’d agreed to keep our love a secret. Because Izzy thought it was all too quick, but I just couldn’t wait a moment longer. I want the entire world to know that Izabella Rhodes has captured my heart, and now, well, the cat’s out of the bag.”
Both Penelope and Trudy’s eyes slowly move from me down to Izzy, who is still wrapped protectively in my arms. Somehow her already tense muscles stiffen even further at the pure hatred that’s pouring from her twin and mother in waves.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us for just a moment,” I say, dismissing them both as I curl my arm around her back and steer Izzy out of the room and down the hallway until we’re out of sight and hearing distance of everyone else. There’s so much that I don’t know about Izzy and why she’s hidden herself away for all these years, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have a great relationship with her family. It’s not a massive shock, the Rhodeses are assholes, and Izzy seems almost sweet. So, although I’m using her, it almost feels like I’m helping her too. Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I drop my arm and spin around to face her, flashing her a smug smile. “I know you’re mad, but did you see their faces?” I laugh.
I guess I’m expecting her to laugh too, or at least smile, but instead her eyes widen, filling with what I think is anger and another emotion that I can’t quite identify. Lifting her finger, she points at me, her lips parting, then closing again. She takes a step back away from me, then almost immediately moves forward again, lifting her other hand until she has both hands held out in front of her, like she’s planning to reach out and shove me, before they fall impotently to her sides.
I think she might actually be so angry she can’t speak. I’d been wondering why she hadn’t corrected me or revealed the truth, since I dropped the diamond bomb. I thought her silence seemed odd, but now I think she might be so furious that her brain is about to implode.
“Look, I know you’re probably wondering why I just did what I did.”
She inhales sharply, closing her eyes for a split second before she opens them again, the violet in her gaze brighter than I’ve seen it before. “Do you have any idea how much shit you just caused for me? Do you even care?”
Her voice gets louder until she’s just shy of yelling, and I grab her arm. I pull her into the library, closing the door behind us. “Look, I’m sorry if you think this is going to cause problems for you, but I’m going to need you to play along.”
“You’re sorry if I think this is going to cause problems for me?” she parrots back, not hiding the derision in her voice. “Of course, this is going to cause problems for me. You basically just told my family I stole you from my sister. Why are you even doing all of this?”
Smirking, I scoff. “Because I’m not a fucking political pawn, and I refuse to be treated like one.”
“That’s it? You’re fucking me over to prove a point? Surely you could have done that without dragging me into this,” she cries.
“To be honest, I didn’t really think about you,” I confess. “But when you think about it, I’m making your life better. I mean, what the fuck else were you doing other than hiding?”
Her mouth falls open, and something shutters in her eyes, making a pang of regret tug at my stomach. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she opens them and looks at me coldly. “You’ve ruined everything. We were never supposed to have met.”
“And why is that?” I snap, suddenly angry. “Why weren’t we supposed to have met? Don’t give me that antisocial bullshit. Even in the time I’ve spent with you today, we both know you’re not antisocial. You’re not a recluse or a weirdo, so why is it your family has tried so hard to make sure no one knows you exist?”
“My family is none of your business,” she snaps angrily.
Turning, she steps toward the door, but snapping my hand out, I grab her wrist, stopping her. “Your family is a fucking nightmare,” I hiss. “But my dad wanted an alliance with your family, so I gave him one…you.”
“What if I’m unstable or a drug addict? What if I already have a boyfriend?” she cries, stepping closer to me and punctuating each point by stabbing me in the chest with her finger.
Boyfriend? Why does her suggesting that make me want to lash out? Smiling coldly, I arch an eyebrow at her. “I don’t give a crap what kind of psycho you are, that’s not my problem. You’re just a means to an end, but this can be a quid pro quo situation for both of us. You can stop living your weird recluse life, and I can piss your family off and appease my dad. Win, win.”
“Win, fucking win,” she mutters angrily.
I can’t help but smile. The more time I’ve spent with her today, the more the timid little mouse shield has dissolved, and I love the angry firecracker that’s beneath it.
“This is all so much fucking fun for you, isn’t it? Except you get to laugh it up, and I have to go home with them. I have to deal with the fact that you just told my family that I stole my sister’s future right out from under her nose and ruined all of the plans my parents have been making. Yeah, douchebag, this is all hilarious.”
Scoffing lightly, I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
Her eyes narrow and she glares at me before she spins on her heel and marches back toward the living room, muttering loudly beneath her breath. “This is ridiculous. I’ll have to tell them the truth. You’re such a fucking dick.”
Closing the distance between us in two short strides, I grab her arm and spin her around, slamming her back into the wall before I pin her arms at her sides and press my chest against hers, holding her in place. Her eyes widen, and her strange violet depths flash with fear.
“I’m not going to let you fuck this up for me,” I growl.
“You can’t stop me from telling the truth,” she argues, but her voice is weak as the pulse in her neck flutters.
Releasing my hold on one of her wrists, I lift my hand and gently cup her cheek, sliding my fingers along her jaw, then lower until my palm is collaring her throat. Silently, I assess her, watching as she nervously licks her lips. When I suddenly tighten my grip on her throat, her eyes widen.
“It didn’t have to come to this, Izabella. But if you tell anyone that our engagement is fake, then I’ll tell your family and everyone else I know that this was all your idea. I’ll tell them that you approached me, that you told me you were sick of being in your sister’s shadow, that you wanted to get revenge on her and embarrass her and your family.”
I’m not holding her tight enough to hurt her or restrict her breathing, but her gasp is barely audible, and for the briefest of seconds, I almost feel bad.
“Who do you think people will believe? You, the girl no one even knew existed, the daughter her family kept hidden in the shadows, jealous of her sister shining in the spotlight. Or me, the golden child of a prestigious family, a GAA Elite that everyone knows and loves,” I taunt, a smug smile spreading across my lips.
Her sigh is broken reluctance, and I can’t help but chuckle triumphantly.
“You’re all the same,” she whispers sadly.
“What?”
“You, Penelope, my parents, you’re all the same.”
“I’m nothing like your family,” I protest angrily.
Closing her eyes, she inhales a shaky breath before opening them again. “How long?”
“How long, what?” I ask.
“How long do I have to lie for you?” Her voice is resigned acceptance, and despite the hint of guilt laying heavy in my gut, I can’t help the sense of victory I feel at her submission.
“Not forever.” I laugh. “Just till graduation.”
Her eyelids dip closed, and a single tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. Unable to resist, I lean in and capture the tear in a binding kiss. “Don’t look so sad, Little Ghost. This is going to be fun.”
“For you maybe,” she whispers sadly.
Leaning down, I press my lips to hers, sealing our agreement with a bruising kiss. “I’m glad we understand each other, my darling fiancée. Now let’s get back in there and wow our audience with how in love we are.”