5. Liv
CHAPTER FIVE
LIV
H e’s there when I arrive, chatting with some blond guy whose hair is as pale as mine, at the entrance, beyond the bodyguard and ribbon keeping us peasants away from Le Luminaris.
I shift uncomfortably, half expecting to get shooed at the door.
"I’m with?—”
The bulky, tall, bald man in uniform lifts the barrier before I can finish the sentence, waving me in. He didn’t even ask for a name.
I stand still for a moment, hesitant to approach Callum while he’s with company, but just then, his gray eyes dart away from his guest, finding me.
Then they don’t let go.
I can only describe his look as ravenous. I’ve seen men stare at me like that before, but typically, I’m mostly undressed and showing them my pussy through flimsy underwear when they stare this probingly.
Callum takes his time, his gaze raking over me from the tips of my Mary Janes to the elegant side braid, missing nothing. His friend seems to be asking something, but he’s not paying him a bit of attention. Finally, the blond guy turns to see what could possibly have enthralled him that way.
His eyes widen, and his jaw falls as he, too, watches me. But his expression’s different than Callum’s. He seems…confused?
“If you’ll excuse me,” I hear Callum say, before he crosses the distance between us, taking my elbow.
He drags me inside fast. The paparazzi, who until then ignored me, flash their cameras, taking several shots on our way up.
Only when we’re beyond the dark green gates does he let me go.
“Fucking hell, love,” he grunts. “Do you want me to bend you over in public?”
I snort. “I thought you wanted me to fuck someone else .”
Callum leads us to a bar, lifting his hand. The poor bartender immediately abandons what he was doing to scurry over. “Scotch, neat, and Cristal for the lady. Bring a bottle.”
The man obeys with a nod.
“Cristal?” I ask.
“Champagne. You’ll like it.”
“What if I detest champagne?” I argue for the sake of it.
“You got drunk on cheap cava for graduation last May. I doubt you’ll frown on the upgrade.”
How does he…
Oh. Tricks. I was with Patricia at graduation.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m gonna have a talk with my so-called best friend. How do you know her?”
“So many questions.”
“And no answers so far.”
His drink arrives first, and he downs it in one go, looking like he’s been parched and that’s the first bit of water he’s seen in days.
The champagne is next, and this time, he takes the time to lift his flute to mine for a toast. “To a mutually satisfactory evening.”
I can’t exactly pinpoint why I flush. Likely because of the way those dark gray orbs pierce into me. He could be talking about the weather, I’d still be beet red.
“To getting some fucking answers,” I retort, tapping his glass with mine.
A beautiful brunette informs us our private room is ready, and I tense immediately. I thought we were supposed to stay in public? But that’s not what he offered; he said I’d be seen with him in public. And he’s right, it’s reassuring. He can’t possibly murder me now, without being a prime suspect, as he said.
Then again, he’s a fucking peer of the realm, and pretty high on the hierarchy, too. I think it would only take about twenty-five deaths for him to become king.
And I’m having drinks with him.
Wild .
He takes our bottle and we follow the hostess, past the bar and into a dimly lit area with half a dozen closed doors.
I wonder what’s happening beyond those. Business dinners. Dates. Something else altogether.
She opens the last one and smiles pleasantly as we walk into the modern black-and-gold lounge.
“I understand you’ll be trying our tasting menu tonight?”
“Yes,” Callum says without my input.
I roll my eyes, unsurprised, but also unbothered. Tasting menu sounds like exactly what I would have wanted to eat in a place like this.
“The first course will arrive in a moment. Afterwards, please do press on your call button when you’re ready for the next. You will have absolute privacy until you let us know we can come back in.”
And I’m back to being red. I guess these rooms are definitely meant for something other than business dinners.
That explains why the seats seem so comfortable—beds, more than sofas.
She’s gone after one last smile.
“I haven’t agreed to fuck you,” I remind him as soon as the door is shut.
Callum’s washing his hands in a small basin that’s far too pretty—I thought it was a plant pot or something—and I imitate him.
“Love, if it was about fucking me, I wouldn’t ask. Now go sit that beautiful ass down before I change my mind and have you for dinner.”
He makes his way to the sofa on the far wall, and I take my place on the other one, even more dumbfounded than before.
I’m about to ask another question for him to ignore when the door opens again, four servers armed with several small dishes coming in.
Each plate contains less than a bite-size serving of things I couldn’t begin to identify. Squares. Fleshy bits. Foam. Air . It all looks dainty and beautiful and nothing like food.
“So,” Callum says, reaching out for a dish on his right.
He takes it between two fingers, bringing it directly to his mouth.
I do the same, and lose all my ability to think for several moments.
Oh. My. God.
Is this what rich people eat? No pasta or pizza or potatoes, just heaven on a plate?
I think I come a little in my panties. I want to cry because it’s already gone.
“Why you. That was your first of many queries, yes?”
It takes me a while to get over what’s in my mouth, but I finally manage to nod.
“Are you sure you wanna know?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes. That’s the entire reason I’m here.”
Though if I’d known about the food, I would have come anyway.
How do people even make things like that? With what?
“You have a half-sister.”
My jaw falls as my hand stops, halfway to the next dish.
What?
“Come again?”
“I figured you wouldn’t know. Your dad and mom only stayed together for a couple of years when you were born, then you were raised by your mother until age seven, when she ODed, right?”
I nod, rather than launching into another useless lecture about stalking.
“Well, just around when your parents separated, another woman had a kid with your dad. She’s about a year and a half younger than you.”
I don’t know what to say. Honestly, given who my father is, the possibility of step-siblings should have occurred to me before now, but it just didn’t.
I have a half-sister? Some girl around seventeen years old?
“Long story short, my friend Hawk has a thing for her. You look alike. A lot.”
This, I can also believe, because I’ve taken a lot after my father; the blonde hair, but also his mouth, his nose, his eyebrows. I think the only thing I have from my mom is the blue eyes.
“ He is about to throw his life away and I want to remind him of the… possibilities that could open to him someday if he refuses to marry the harpy his dad’s forcing on him.”
“By fucking me. Because I look like my half-sister?”
It’s all too stupid for words.
“Essentially.”
“That’s insane.”
Callum shrugs. “He can’t fuck her. She hates his guts, for one, but she’s also jailbait. And a lot more complicated than you. So here’s the deal: I convince him with my words, you convince him with your pussy, and we pull him away from the edge. You walk away with a tidy sum that will make your life considerably easier either way it ends.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “That’s it, that’s your grand plan? Persuading your friend to change his mind on something major using the strength of my almighty pussy?”
He nods solemnly. “It’ll help that he’ll be your first. Pretty sure your prissy little sis is a virgin, too. He’ll think about popping her cherry next. Are you on birth control? I’d rather you weren’t.”
“Oh, if you’d rather I weren’t, I guess I’d just pop out some stranger’s kid, ruining my entire life for your convenience!” My voice is rising, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
I’m guessing the room’s soundproof, given its purpose.
“You can take a pill in the morning or whatever. But it’ll help.”
I stand, ready to leave. “I’m done with this nonsense.”
“Half a million.”
The words hang between us in the stunned silence.
“I’m going easy on you rather than dragging out the negotiations. That’s my plateau. I won’t go higher; you’re objectively not worth more. But you do this for me, and half a million euros are yours. I’ll even register your service to the kingdom, so it’s tax free.”
“Under what, party favors?” I snap, finding my voice again.
“Yes,” Callum replies without hesitating. “Sit, Liv. The theatrics don’t change the fact that you’re going to say yes. You need the cash. I need your help. It’s a fair deal.”
He sounds oh so reasonable.
And what kills me? He’s right. If I stay on my high horse and walk away from this life-changing offer…there’s a very high chance that sixty years from now, I’ll lie on my deathbed, wondering what if. Regretting it.
Life doesn’t tend to throw curveballs, or chances. Not to people like me. This is mine.
I sit.
And the asshole smirks.
“How did you find me?” I ask out of curiosity, and because it just occurred to me that it likely was no coincidence.
“Gathering dirt on your sister,” he answers obligingly.
It doesn’t matter how nasty it is, he always gives me the truth.
“What, so you could blackmail her into fucking your friend?” The moment I say the words, I know they’re true.
“That was the initial plan, but when I learned about you, I figured it’d be much cleaner this way.”
“Cleaner,” I muse.
“I mean, you are a stripper. You’re not above using your body to get where you need to in life. Your half-sister’s a spoiled brat. She would have pouted through it all. Whereas you’re going to be such a good girl, aren’t you?”
I shiver. “You’re something else.”
He winks. “Eat your mousse, love. It’s to die for.”