Chapter 14
ELLIE
The next morning, the four of us head downstairs to find Aria in the kitchen.
Wearing an apron.
Dancing.
Cooking breakfast.
Clothes miraculously arrived in suitcases outside our bedroom door, so I changed into a pair of leggings and one of Dom’s shirts.
I originally had one of my own picked out, but Dom had angrily grabbed it out of my hands and exchanged it with one of his own.
The navy-blue fabric falls just below my knees, resembling a baggy dress.
But it smells like him—even washed—so I love it.
I fiddle with the ends of that shirt now as I watch my biological mom dance around the kitchen, humming under her breath.
I exchange a “what the fuck” look with Beckett, who’s standing closest to me. His mismatched eyes are shadowed and rife with confusion…and maybe even a bit of fear.
This is a side of Aria we’ve never seen before, and it’s even more terrifying than her icy impassiveness.
Fischer sits at the dining room table, his head lowered, nursing a mug of coffee.
He doesn’t even glance up as we approach, his shoulders bunching slightly.
I wonder if he’s hungover, which would honestly surprise me.
Fischer wasn’t much of a drinker, mainly because he struggled to balance his full-time job with taking care of me.
I barely recognize the shell of a man before me now, with hollowed-out eyes and sunken cheeks.
“I hope you like pancakes,” Aria trills, spinning toward us with her spatula raised.
“I made buttermilk, chocolate chip, and blueberry.” A beatific smile spreads on her face, but like in the study, it doesn’t reach her eyes.
They remain as devoid and empty as two abandoned tunnels, a fathomless expanse of nothing but darkness, even if they are pale in color.
I remain standing, unsure of how to respond to this strange-as-fuck encounter.
“Ellie’s allergic to pancakes,” Zane says cheerfully, shooting Aria a shit-eating grin. “They make her have the poops.”
None of that’s true, but it makes me bite down on my smile. Trust Zane Lorenzo to alleviate the tension in the air.
“I suppose it’s good that you have an en-suite bathroom.
” Aria winks at me, something indecipherable glimmering in her eyes, and I feel a chill rush through me.
It isn’t possible that she knows about what happened with Ryker last night, is it?
No. The guys checked the entire room for bugs and cameras.
There were none. She’s just being a bitch.
Or maybe she heard me—which would be humiliating but not as damning as Ryker’s resurrection would be.
“I have coffee in the pot,” Aria continues, turning back to the stove. “You take yours with cream and sugar, don’t you, Ellie?”
Again, I don’t answer. I know without a shadow of doubt that I won’t ingest anything Aria offers me.
I don’t believe she’ll poison me—she had plenty of opportunities to kill me last night alone—but who the fuck knows what she’ll do?
Give me a hallucinogen? Ecstasy? The guys and I will have to find another way to eat.
Silently, the four of us take our seats around the table, Zane and Beckett bracketing me between them while Dom sits across from me, beside Fischer.
Fischer’s hands tighten around his mug, his knuckles bleaching white, but he still doesn’t look up. Doesn’t even acknowledge us.
With a cheerful hum at odds with her cold, insidious eyes, Aria places a plate of pancakes on the table.
“I hope you five are hungry. I made a lot.” Her smile stretches, bunching up her cheeks in a way that oddly resembles a squirrel collecting acorns.
It gives her an almost elfin appearance.
An innocent one. Which I know to be a lie.
“Now, why don’t we say grace first?” She doesn’t wait for any of us to respond as she slips into the spare seat at the head of the table.
She squeezes her eyes shut and folds her hands.
All of us remain alert, staring at her with identical “this bitch is crazy” expressions.
“Cassia, Mother of All, Goddess of our Souls. Blessed be the fruit. Blessed be the name. Blessed be my family, which you have returned to me.” She goes silent, and I wonder if she’s expecting one of us to pipe in. If she is, then she’s in for a rude awakening. “In her heavenly name, we pray. Amen.”
Dom’s upper lip curls. “What the hell was that?”
“You don’t say grace in your household?” Aria asks evenly, using her fork to stab at one of the pancakes. She places it on her plate, then grabs the syrup from in front of Fischer, pouring a generous helping over it.
“You know Cassia isn’t a real goddess,” Beckett cuts in, his British accent even more pronounced in response to his agitation.
“Do I?” She nimbly cuts off a slice and brings it to her lips, chewing delicately.
“If you believed her to be real, why did you claim I was her?” I interrupt.
A secretive smile dances on her lips. “Maybe you are her.”
I snort. “We both know that’s not true.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, wanting to see her better, to gauge her reaction.
“No, you wanted a way to control me, and claiming I was the second coming of your goddess was your way to do just that. But what I want to know is why? What’s your end goal?
Do you want me to take over? Be your puppet?
” Anger heats my neck and cheeks, and I find my hand curling into a fist, my nails embedding themselves in my palm.
Aria continues eating, completely nonplussed by my accusation. “Do you want the truth, Ellie? Would you even believe me if I told you?”
“Try me,” I hiss.
She doesn’t glance up from her food. “Control.”
“So, this is about controlling me,” I surmise.
Harsh laughter escapes her. “No, you dumb child. This is about controlling everyone.” She finally lowers her fork back to the table and steeples her hands, her eyes lifting to rest on mine.
“Belief and faith are tied so intricately together, it’s impossible to differentiate one from the other.
You certainly can’t untangle them. My…flock has believed in something for so long, but their faith was wavering.
I told them that every murder, every sacrifice, every depraved act was one step closer to their returning to their savior.
Their goddess. But some people…some people were skeptical, and they were vocal about it.
Take Judge Murphy Monroe, for example.” A serrated grin stretches her lips. “You remember him, I imagine?”
Images of a chubby man with a receding hairline pop to the forefront of my mind.
He was the first man we killed after I’d been bought.
Something insidious grabs hold of my neck and squeezes.
“My dear friend Murphy was causing discontent among the masses, but I knew he had a…proclivity toward younger women. So, when a pretty brown-haired woman came for sale, I knew he would jump at the chance to purchase her.” Her smile widens as she reaches for her mug of coffee, taking a tiny sip.
She leaves behind a bright red lipstick smear that almost resembles blood.
“And I also knew you would trace the IP back to him. And that you would kill him.” She lowers the mug back to the table.
“Just like you killed the second person who purchased Ellie, and the third, and the fourth—”
“You fucking played us,” Dom grits out, seeming to be speaking through clenched teeth.
So, she never planned to hand me over to the “buyers.” I don’t know whether to feel relieved or manipulated. Maybe both?
“Oh, come now. You make me sound like an evil mastermind.” Aria chuckles good-naturedly and brushes at a strand of wavy blonde hair.
“All I did was make Doyle aware of the listing. I knew he would come crying to Dominic. Believe it or not, Doyle isn’t actually a bad guy.
” She turns toward Dominic, her smile softening, though it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“He actually cares about you. Wants a relationship with you. His mother and brother, on the other hand…” She pretends to shudder, but I can tell she’s enjoying this.
She’s a narcissist through and through, and there’s nothing she loves more than being the center of attention.
“So you wanted us to kill those fuckers,” Zane drawls, reclining back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “Can’t say I’m too upset. If what you’re saying is true, then they deserved it.”
“Perhaps.” Aria shrugs a single shoulder.
“All I knew was that they were in my way and needed to be eliminated. I couldn’t have them destroying all the work my family has put into this organization over the years.
” Her long, manicured fingers come to rest on the table, tapping rhythmically.
“And now, with you, my dear Ellie, I have the masses under my control once more. If I can get them to believe again, then they’ll have faith in me and the Paragons of Prosperity. Do you understand now?”
Ice sludges in my veins. “I won’t let you do this. I can’t.”
Aria releases a lilting laugh. “You say that now, but I already know you’ll dance when I say dance.
You won’t have a choice. Not if you want to keep your little boy toys alive.
” She bites down on her lower lip as she cuts off another tiny sliver of pancake.
“How are your friends, by the way? Piper, Jane, and Victoria? Have you talked to them recently? I’m aware they tried to call you after they heard about Landon, but you avoided their calls. ”
“They’re not my friends,” I say curtly, my heart hammering against my breastbone. It’s a lie, but I’m hoping she doesn’t know that.
The truth is, those three girls may just be the only friends I have—excluding the guys, of course.
I miss them terribly, but with everything happening in my life, it would be idiotic and selfish to let them in.
I sent them one text before graduation, congratulating them and promising I’m okay, then promptly blocked their numbers.
Though I’m not sure if they’ll ever forgive me for cutting them off like that, I pray they will.
It’s the only thing I could do to keep them alive and safe.
I already lost Blair to the fucked-up games POP likes to play. I won’t lose them too.
“I heard Victoria moved back to France to be with her boyfriend,” Aria continues conversationally, as if each word she says isn’t a knife to my heart.
I didn’t know that.
At all.
“Piper has been seeing this one woman. Winter, I believe her name is. Or maybe Summer. Or is it Autumn?” She taps her fork against her lips in contemplation. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I heard she got into an amazing tattoo apprenticeship in New York. Aren’t you proud of her?”
I work to keep my expression perfectly blank.
“And Jane—sweet little Jane—has moved to Boston to be closer to her parents. I don’t think she’s seeing anyone.
Though, just between us…” She leans in close, like she’s trying to share a secret, though she keeps her volume at its normal level.
“I think she always had a little crush on Landon. Poor thing was probably crushed when she heard he died. Did you ever tell her you were fucking him? Hmm.” She pretends to contemplate that question before shrugging. “No matter.”
“I told you. They’re not my friends,” I repeat, curling my hand into a fist on my lap.
“I haven’t talked to them in months. They were just…
acquaintances. And, honestly, it was a little annoying watching Jane fawn over Landon all the time.
She never got the hint.” The last part wasn’t true at all.
I know for a fact that Jane wasn’t into any of my guys the way Aria implied.
For one, she was loyal to a fault and believed in girl code.
And for two, she never showed any signs of being attracted to them.
Aria is simply trying to stir the pot, to make me doubt my relationship with my friends and my guys, but it won’t work.
I’m not the weak, timid girl I once was. I’ve endured unspeakable tragedies but have emerged stronger than I ever thought possible. I have scars all across my skin, but they tell the story of who I am, what I’ve been through. I’m proud of each and every one of them.
Fuck Aria.
Seriously, fuck her.
An uncomfortable silence permeates the air as Aria finishes her breakfast. It’s only as she’s taking her final sip of coffee that she seems to realize we haven’t eaten.
One of her eyebrows arches. “You’re not going to have breakfast?”
None of us answer.
“I suppose that’s your choice.” She giggles, the noise strangely childlike, then moves to stand. “But you all are going to need your energy today.”
“Why is that?” Dom drawls.
“Fischer has some meetings to attend today on my behalf.” She flicks her gaze toward my brother, who burrows farther into his seat, as if wishing he could disappear.
If he feels my eyes drilling holes into his head, he doesn’t show it, keeping his eyes glued to the table.
Aria redirects her focus on me. “The rest of us have a party to attend.” Her smile widens.
“You will be making your first official debut as a goddess.”