43. Penelope #2
“So you’re studying business then?” Felix’s father asks me.
I nod. “It wasn’t my dream education, but I wanted to honor my sister’s legacy after her death.”
It’s almost as if she suddenly rose from the dead. That’s how quiet it is at this table.
“Can you pass some of the Kimchi?” Alistair asks Lana after a moment to break the ice.
She rolls her eyes and casually hands him the plate without even looking at him.
“Thanks, L,” Alistair says with a grin.
“L?” Lana grimaces. “No. Fuck no.”
“Lana,” her father warns. “No swearing at the table.”
She grumbles to herself. “This is why I hate these kinds of parties.”
“Why? Just because they use it to grill the new girl?” Dylan jests.
It becomes hard to swallow.
“Relax,” he muses. “I’m just messing with you.”
“Of course you are, D,” Lana retorts, narrowing her eyes at him. Then she turns to glare at me. “It’s not a joke. They want to know what you’re doing with them. And I want to know what you’re doing with my brother.”
“What?” I mutter, completely confused where this is all coming from.
“He’s never been this obsessed over anyone, so spill,” she says, jamming her fork into the meat on my plate before shoving it into her mouth. “You can either talk, or I’ll use force.”
Suddenly, a knife is thrown across the room and pierces the wall behind Lana.
“Don’t.” Felix’s dark voice makes me turn to look at him.
The whole room contains so much tension that I’m starting to wonder if we’re having a dinner party or a brawl to the death.
Felix’s father puts down his fork and knife and stares at Felix with a disappointed look. “What did I just say about this?” When Felix doesn’t answer, he gazes at Lana too.
Lana rolls her eyes again. “No weapons at the dinner table.”
Weapons?
Felix’s father adds, “Or butter knives.” And he sticks his knife into the butter. “Now pass me the buns, please.”
Jesus Christ, this is one weird party.
Felix grabs some perilla leaves and fills them all with only cooked meat that he just shoves into his mouth, chomping in an annoyed and hurried way.
“Why did you bring me here again?” I ask under my breath.
“Does it look like I wanted to?” Felix replies.
Ah, so he does listen to someone.
My eyes land on his father.
“So I guess you’re all a violent bunch, then?” I murmur.
Felix shrugs. “Blood runs thicker than water.”
“Then why do you hate your sister so much?”
She laughs beside me. “Oh no, we don’t hate each other.” She reaches for him and pats him on the shoulder. “This is brotherly love.”
Felix shoves her hand off. “I can’t fucking wait for this to be over.”
“Can we just have dinner, please?” Alistair muses, happily munching away at his food. “It’s too delicious to fight over.”
Lana completely ignores him. “You know they’re just trying to figure out where she belongs, right?” Lana muses at her brother.
“Who? Me?” I ask.
“Who do you think?” she retorts. “You’re the only new girl here.”
New girl. Interesting.
“Well, after Eve of course.”
My eyes widen.
Eve? Lana knows her.
Has she eaten with this family too?
“Okay, I’ve had about enough,” Felix says, and he puts down his fork and knife, violently scoots back his chair, and marches off, chucking a napkin to the floor.
“Where is he going?” Dylan’s mom asks.
“Toilet,” Lana quickly replies, and she picks up the bowl of Kimchi. “Kimchi?”
I scoot back my chair and run off too, following Felix.
I don’t know where he went, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the toilet.
I run off on my high heels through the giant mansion until I’m suddenly pulled to the side in a small, dimly lit hallway. I shriek, but a strong hand covers my mouth.
Felix.
He puts a finger in front of his lips, then slowly lowers his hand off my mouth.
But not away from my face.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
My heart beats in my throat. “I could ask you the same thing.” His nostrils flare, and when he doesn’t say anything, I add, “Did you run off because of what she said about Eve?”
His fingers instantly wrap around my throat, squeezing the life out of me. “Don’t talk about her. Not to them. Got it?”
I nod, and he slowly releases the pressure, but his hand still hovers very close to my veins, like a looming threat.
“She’s been here too,” I mutter. I don’t need him to answer to know it’s the truth.
“Dylan’s family occasionally invites over their inner circle for dinner. Even friends.”
So I’m a part of the inner circle now?
He grabs my hand and tugs me into a bathroom behind me, shutting the door.
“It’s not safe to talk,” he growls. “You don’t know who the fuck our families are and what they’re capable of.”
“None of them seemed scared by violence,” I reply. “I think I can take a good guess.”
“Then don’t fucking talk,” he growls. “Not to anyone unless they ask.”
I frown. “Why? You scared I’m gonna tell them about our deal?”
His grip on my wrist tightens to the point it almost starts to hurt. “Think very carefully about what you’re gonna say, Pen.”
“They know about …” I mutter, wondering if I should finish my sentence. “They think I’m Dylan’s girlfriend, right? Are they trying to see if I’m a good fit?”
He nods.
“They don’t know you guys … share.” I swallow. “What else don’t they know?”
“Lots, and I want to keep it that way,” he replies.
I jerk free from his grip. “If you want me to act like I enjoy it here, you can at least talk to me.”
“About what?” His eyes narrow.
“I don’t know … pretend we’re normal or something. Tell me about your family before you take me to them.”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
“I do, actually,” I reply, as he rubs his forehead. “What about your sister, for example? You two seem to hate each other. Why?”
“It’s complicated. She’s my li’l sis, and I need to protect her. She hates it. But at the same time, she acts like a fucking floozy with the wrong guys.” He groans. “Never mind.”
He’s still rubbing himself like he hates even talking about them, but I’m glad I’m getting at least some information. If these guys are fucking around with me, I might as well get to know them. Who knows, maybe the information will be useful someday.
“God, I need a fucking drink,” he mumbles.
I bet he does. “You looked like you were about ready to kill when I mentioned your mother.”
His fingers part, revealing a half-mast, widened eye, almost like he’s homed in on me, ready to strike, and it makes goose bumps scatter on my skin.
“My mother …” He lowers his hand and gets up close and personal. “Is dead.”
“Oh.” I avert my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He plants his hand on the wall beside him. “My father killed her.”
I look into his murderous-looking eyes that don’t even bear a hint of fear or anguish, and my lungs stop sucking in the oxygen they so desperately need.
His mother … killed by his own father?
Why?
And how would Felix be okay with that?
Suddenly, the door opens, and Dylan leans against the doorpost. “Hey there, girlfriend .”
He invites himself in and shuts the door behind him.
Felix turns around, incensed. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“Checking up on y’all,” he muses, folding his hands behind his head. “What are y’all doing?”
Felix raises his brow. “What does it look like?”
Dylan shrugs. “I don’t know. Seemed to me like you just want some alone time with my girlfriend.” He grabs my hand like he owns me. “Best keep up the charade, right?”
Felix slaps his hand away and stands between us. “Don’t even fucking try.”
The door opens again, and this time, Alistair’s peeking in. “Whoa, what’s going on in here?”
“Jesus Christ, why are you following us?” Felix growls and tries to shut the door, but Ali pushes his way inside first. “Goddammit. When I said I had enough, I meant all of you.”
“Fine,” I reply and push past him. “I’ll leave then.”
He grabs my wrist before I can even lift a finger at the door handle. “You. Stay.”
He turns to face me, the look in his eyes madly possessive.
“Why? You wanted some time alone.” I swallow just from the way he looks at me—like he could almost eat me alive even though we all just ate. “You don’t need me.”
He’s so up in my face that I’m forced to step back, but when I bump into the toilet, there’s nowhere for me to go but down.
His grip moves from my wrist to my chin. “You are everything I need right now.”
His thumb brushes along my lips, and when he parts them, I don’t even protest.
A need to satiate an unquenchable thirst fills his darkened, stained eyes. And when he pushes me back, my body instinctively walks along, unable to look away. I hit the wall in the back of the bathroom, and suddenly, the air is too thick to even breathe.
“On your knees,” he growls.