Chapter Twenty-Four
Slate
I bombed on my time for the obstacle course.
Usually Onyx, Kalen, Sawyer and I obliterate everyone.
Onyx always takes the winner’s spot because losing is never an option for him.
He will push his body to limits a person really shouldn’t.
I think Sawyer lets him win, though. The guy’s crazy strong and fast, but also has a heart of gold.
He wouldn’t have a problem finishing lower down, so long as he’s only beaten by his brothers.
This year I came sixth. I would have been happy with fourth, but fucking sixth!
My head wasn’t in it. I woke up this morning after a late night being run ragged on stupid errands for Grandfather and less than three hour’s sleep.
Onyx had left his computer on with the live stream to Amelie’s room.
I couldn’t help it. I watched her push her ass into him, the way she moaned as he flipped her over.
I didn’t want to watch any more, but I couldn’t look away either.
I know it’s stupid, but I’m jealous. It should have been me with her, instead of running frivolous errands for Grandfather.
He had called early into the party because he needed me to drive him to see an old friend.
We have drivers, but he laid on the guilt, and I had to go help him.
I can’t believe that after I finally started getting through to Amelie, I just up and left. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Breaking down her walls isn’t easy, since we fucked up.
We would never have hurt her, yet when someone fucks with what's ours, Onyx and I become one. We zero in on our enemy and attack. We thought she was going after our mum. It’s not an excuse for what we did, but it’s a reason.
The worst thing is that we were wrong; our mother was after her in such a petty way, we should have known better.
“Stop playing with your cock, we have a party to attend,” Kalen announces, pushing his way into my room at the hotel we’re all staying in for the event tonight.
After the race, we brought Amelie back here.
She was dangerously dehydrated and desperately needed to soak her muscles.
We all crowded her, fussing over her and surprisingly, she let us.
Even Onyx drew her a bath, making sure it had just the right amount of Epsom salts to help ease her aching muscles.
“Does everything revolve around cocks with you?” I snap.
I slip into my suit jacket making sure not to add any wrinkles; Grandfather already chewed me a new one when he found out I came in sixth, so I don’t need any other excuses for him to get at me tonight.
He doesn’t accept anything less than perfection.
Even though he is old as hell itself, he still beat the initiates, though Amelie smashed it out of the park.
No girl has ever competed and when he demanded she take part, we all had our reservations.
I mean, we pushed her the last few weeks, but we still didn’t think she was ready.
Sawyer said her and Jasper have been putting in extra practice.
He’s lucky he’s part of The Order, or one of us would have taken him out by now.
I have to hand it to him though, he did a much better job at preparing her than we did.
“If you had a cock as impressive as mine, you would understand.”
Kalen jumps and ducks the hotel’s expensive glass paperweight I throw at him, laughing as he leaves my room.
The sound of violins fills the air, because of course, there’s a string quartet.
Every second of tonight will run to perfection, nothing out of place and everything on a tight timeline: mingle for twenty minutes before everyone is called to eat; after food the awards will be handed out; then, everyone under the age of thirty will escape when the old men retire to smoke cigars, and the wives will have tea.
But until then, we are required to smile, speak when spoken to by our elders, and not embarrass our family name.
Onyx, Sawyer and I represent two family names on behalf of The Order. We never would speak that out loud in front of our grandfather of course; we have pride in everything Knox, but I like to think that once upon a time our original families loved and cared about us.
Heading down the wide sweeping staircase to the main foyer, I catch up to my brothers waiting at the bottom for me.
“Don’t tell me you fed her to the wolves already?” I ask them, frowning. Amelie has no idea what’s going on here. Even though she has her suspicions, she doesn’t realise that these men will use and abuse her, just for being female.
Kalen points to the top of the stairs and I look up.
Every speck of air is drawn from my lungs.
In this moment, breathing is the last thing on my mind.
The gown Laura has picked out for Amelie is stunning.
The whole dress is midnight blue, but the corset top is covered in sparkling crystals.
The dress has a modest neckline, but hugs her waist and makes her seem tiny.
The colour of the dress compliments her tanned skin, and the silver diamonds catch the light and dazzle with the slightest movement.
The skirt falls into an elegant waterfall of satin which pools at her feet, and as she lifts the hem slightly to navigate the stairs, I can see that she’s even wearing delicate strappy heels.
Everything about this dress screams my grandfather, because a woman in this family wouldn’t be permitted to show any cleavage. But Amelie doesn’t need to, everything about her is beautiful and perfect.
“Well, at least she scrubs up like a Knox,” Grandfather drawls scathingly. “Make sure one of you babysits her. I don’t want her anywhere she shouldn’t be tonight.” I don’t take my eyes off Amelie as she descends the stairs but his tone causes me to bristle, my hands curling into fists.
“We get it, but can you not ruin the moment,” Kalen snaps. “None of the women here tonight have any idea, so she will be fine.”
I’m momentarily worried about the tone he has taken with him, but Grandfather just laughs, as he walks away. Figures. As the ‘real’ grandchild, Kalen always gets away with more shit than the rest of us.
I watch as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and Sawyer steps forward to kiss her cheek. Jealousy flares to life again and I hate that he’s the only one who will be allowed to touch her like that tonight. I grind my teeth and tell her how beautiful she looks before anyone else can.
Her huge doe eyes stare up at me and a slight blush ignites on her cheeks as she mumbles a quiet thanks. I want to tell her how sorry I am for not showing up last night. I want to apologise for a million things. I just don’t know where to start.
Sawyer leads Amelie into the grand ballroom and we follow along behind like loyal subjects. I spy the dance floor with the string quartet set up behind. I wonder if I can convince Amelie to dance with me later when the DJ arrives and the stuffy old guys leave.
We take our seats at the Knox family table, and I watch as Amelie scowls at Laura.
I didn’t think to warn her that wives and girlfriends would be here tonight.
The MC for the evening announces the founding families and we all stand and applaud as they enter.
Grandfather cuts his way through the crowd to fill the final seat at our table, and once every old dude is in place, the applause dies and we all take our seats.
The instant our asses touch down, an army of black clad serving staff descend on the tables carrying platters of hors d’oeuvres.
The founding families are served first – meaning us – and we all tuck into our food without waiting for the rest of the room to get theirs. That’s just the way these things work.
I pick up my first set of cutlery and glance over at Amelie.
She’s sat opposite me at the large round table, and although there’s an elaborate floral centrepiece in the middle, it doesn’t obscure my view of her.
Her nose is curled up and her lip is sneering as she stares down at her plate in disgust.
She taps Sawyer on the arm and asks him a question I can’t hear over the general hubbub of the room but when he answers she laughs, then tucks into her food. I’m sure she’ll be complaining about the tiny portion sizes, but she won’t have realised that this is a 12 course meal.
It takes fucking hours. The food is delicious, if you’re into overpriced poncey shit.
But I’d rather have a burger and fries. I keep stealing glances over at Amelie, the room too busy and noisy for us to interact, but I can tell from her face that she thinks the same as me.
The girl has absolutely no poker face whatsoever.
She’ll have to work on that if she truly wants to be one of us.
After the final course – a mignardise of tiny melt in the mouth macarons – is served, the MC taps daintily on his cut crystal champagne flute with a silver spoon to call the room to order.
Obedient to a T, we all fall into immediate silence.
He hands us over to the founding families, the heads of the board, who all make their way over to a raised dais for the prize giving ceremony.
Not that there are any actual physical prizes.
Just bragging rights and a handful’s worth of favours from each family to the winning team. The favours are priceless.
Father is always nagging us to learn more about the background of our leaders, but I don’t give a shit. Which is why I have no idea which crusty old dude steps up to the mic first. All I know is that it’s not our grandfather, though he is up there and will be presenting an ‘award’.
“Gentlemen, esteemed families, worthy pledges, Rucks and wives,” old guy one begins, his welcome listing people by rank. Rucks should be the lowest but with wives – women here – they move up a space.