Chapter 2
2
Greer
Age 16
“Greer Arwen Blanc! You better be dressed and ready to go! This is an important night for this family, and I won’t let you ruin it!”
I drop the paintbrush in my hand. Crap! I was trying to finish this piece for my art class and thought I had enough time to get it done before we left. Guess I was wrong. It’s too late, though. The sound of Mother’s high heels slapping against the hardwood floor gets louder as she approaches my room.
The door hits the wall as she opens it.
I stand. “I’m sorry, Mother. Time got away from me.”
She crosses the room in five strides and slaps me so hard across my cheek that I hear a loud ringing in my ears. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t move. Not when her breath reeks of alcohol.
“You disgust me,” she hisses. “Get dressed and be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And make sure you wear the shape wear. I won’t have you embarrassing this family in any photos because of your weight!”
She slams the door when she’s gone, which means Dad isn’t home yet, though I’m not surprised. It feels like he’s gone all the time, not that I can blame him. I’d be gone all the time, too, if I could get away with it.
I rub my cheek. I hate her so much.
But my hate isn’t going to solve anything, so I get my dress from the closet and the shape wear. The last time she told me to wear it, she checked to see if I had it on right in front of my dad and his coworker. It was embarrassing and not something I want to go through again.
This one is much worse. It’s a body suit and looks like it’s going to be several sizes too small. And the dress I’m wearing is a dark pink. Great. I’m going to look like a stuffed sausage. Probably feel like one, too.
Grumbling, I get dressed. I try not to look in the mirror too much as I do. Not just because of the bruises, either. No, I don’t want to see how hideous I look. Mother can’t stand that I’m not tall and willowy like her. No, I’m short and round, like Dad. Or, as she likes to remind me, fat . I’m fat. So what? It doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it bothers her, but lord knows she uses it as a weapon against me.
The time comes where I have to look in the mirror. Using my concealer and foundation, I cover all visible bruises on my face, arms, and hands. The others don’t matter. Just the ones that might end up in photos. I make a mental note to order more concealer because I’m almost out. It lasts me nearly a month, which is standard around here. Tossing the bottle into my make-up bag, I look myself over. This is as good as it’s going to get.
My parents are waiting in the foyer when I come down the stairs. Mother is on her phone, but Dad smiles at me.
“Look at my little girl. All grown up, and a beauty just like her mother.”
His words slur, making it hard to keep the smile on my face.
Empty words that stem from liquor mean nothing.
“You look handsome, Dad.”
He preens and says, “Well, we should go. Is everyone ready? Tonight is a big night for the Blanc family.”
Mother doesn’t bother answering, and brushes past him, going out the front door. There’s a flicker of hurt on his face that quickly vanishes. I watch as the armor settles over his entire demeanor. He’s officially in Brotherhood mode, which means I have to be on my best behavior.
The limo ride is silent as we make our way across town. Grandfather Blanc’s birthday celebration is at his mansion just outside of Dallas. I’ve always wondered if he ever gets lonely living there by himself, but probably not. There are always people from the Brotherhood around. Like now. The drop-off line to the house is long and we have to wait nearly thirty minutes before our doors are opened and we can make our way inside.
The Defiant God Brotherhood prides themselves on being the most elite secret society in the world. When I was younger, I didn’t know what that meant. Now I can see that it means having a variety of members who can bring something to the table. Money. Power. Connections. All things the Brotherhood needs to survive. And Grandfather Blanc is the head of it all.
It’s why I had a spot at the most prestigious private school in New York even though I live in Texas. People wait years to find out if they’ve been accepted to Trinity, but I knew I’d been accepted before I left grade school. It’s also why people try so hard to be my friend. Those who know about the Brotherhood will do anything to be close to me. Not because they want to or even because they like me. It’s all so they can elevate their own families.
Dating is even worse. There hasn’t been a single boy who’s asked me out because he was interested. No, their parents have urged them to date the Brotherhood’s golden girl. For a long time, I didn’t know why people pushed so hard to date me. But then I found out about the prize that one lucky man will get if he marries me one day. Since Dad never had a son, my husband will get our family’s spot in the Brotherhood.
It's too much pressure to put on a sixteen-year-old. And it’s not fair.
The foyer is packed, but people move out of the way so we can walk. The perk of being a Blanc.
“Blanc,” an older man greets. “Ready to take over for your father?”
Dad laughs. “Heavens, no. This old heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
“No?”
“Never fear, Irons. The Blanc family will continue to lead the Brotherhood. My nephew, Charles, will take over when Father officially steps down.”
“Good boy, that Charles.” The man slaps Dad on his back. “Good to see you, Blanc.”
“You too, Irons. Be sure to tell your sons I said hello.” As soon as he’s out of earshot, Dad says to Mother, “That man is a snake.”
“My poor darling.” She rubs his arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to take over for your father? It’s your right…”
“No, I meant what I said. My heart wouldn’t handle the stress.” He smiles at her. “Never fear, my love. All will work out in the end.”
“I’m sure it will,” Mother answers.
We enter the ballroom, and I spot Grandfather at the front of the room. Cousin Charles is at his side, both with a glass of vodka in hand. Charles’ new wife, Aimée, is also standing with them. Aimée is everything Mother wishes I was.
Tall. Beautiful. Blonde.
Aimée is everything I despise.
Fake. Mean. Vindictive.
Aimée spots us and waves at Mother. I really, really don’t want to go over to her right now, because she’ll only have something cruel to say at my expense.
I ask, “Would it be okay to get a drink?”
Sometimes, they let me have a glass of champagne while at events like this. I’m hoping tonight is one of those nights.
Mother says, “Not until we say hello to Grandfather, Charles, and Aimée.”
Sighing, I follow my parents across the room to Grandfather.
“My son,” Grandfather Blanc booms. “And here’s his lovely wife and my beautiful granddaughter.”
People look our way because that’s just how Grandfather is. He demands attention wherever he goes.
I hug him and say, “Happy birthday, Grandfather Blanc.”
He pinches my cheek and says, “My little roly-poly. I’m so glad you could be here for my big night. It means the world to this old man.”
Aimée snorts. “Roly-poly? Is that because of her…size?”
Mother laughs, too. “You’d think so, right? It’s just a pet name that Hudson gave Greer when she was an infant.”
Aimée leans closer to Mother. “Because she was chubby, right?”
Mother doesn’t answer, but laughs again.
My face feels like it’s on fire.
I say to Grandfather, “I’ll find you later, Grandfather.”
His green eyes are full of sympathy as I slip away from the group.
Why doesn’t Mother ever stand up for me? Does she really hate me that much?
Sadly, I think I know the answer to that question.
After swiping a glass of champagne, I move through the crowd, making my way to a hallway that leads to the kitchen. No one will dare come this way, so I should be safe. Just to be sure, I slip into Grandfather’s study. This is one room that I can spend hours in. Floor to ceiling bookshelves cover three walls. The fourth wall boasts a massive fireplace. It’s not lit, sadly, but other than that, this is the perfect hiding place.
The best part of the room is just around the corner of one wall. It curves into a large bay window but is hidden by two large potted plants. When I was little, I’d play in that spot while Grandfather Blanc and Dad spent time together. I was there so much that Grandfather Blanc put in a chair just for me. It’s still there, and I smile. Thank god for small miracles.
Settling in the chair, I bring the flute to my lips and take a sip. Mother keeps saying she wants to send me to a boarding school in England. At first, I refused. I don’t want to be away from the family for that long. But the more I think about it, the better it’s sounding. Would I miss Dad and Grandfather? Of course. However, not seeing Mother every day would be worth it. Besides, it’s only for two years. After that, I’ll be off at college and, once I’m a legal adult, I won’t have to see her unless I want to. Which I won’t.
Kicking my shoes off, I tuck my feet under my butt and get even more comfortable. Dinner won’t start for at least an hour. Even then, I can probably get by with hiding out for a few courses. I made sure that my seat is away from Mother, so she won’t be looking for me once everyone is seated.
Closing my eyes, I exhale. Peace and quiet. Two things I don’t get enough of.
“Carter, you dog! How on earth did you manage to get elected as Mayor? You weren’t even making the polls until Johnson stepped down.”
A deep laugh has me opening my eyes.
“It wasn’t hard. Got a tip from Henderson and made my move.”
“Ah, blackmail. Well, you have bigger balls than me. What did old man Blanc say?”
This has me sitting up for two reasons. One, the voices are just past the potted plants. Two, they mentioned either Dad or Grandfather Blanc.
“He wasn’t pleased at first but agrees that it helped the Brotherhood.”
“Did you get him to back off the other issue?”
There’s a long pause. “I have no doubts that both Hudson and Hugo will agree the fair Greer is still too young to enter a marriage contract with me.”
What in the heck?
He continues, “Besides, they want me to end up as President of the United States. That means keeping up a certain image that the young Ms. Blanc doesn’t fit.”
“Nor will she ever,” the second man says with a laugh. “If the chit didn’t look just like Hugo, I’d wonder if she was his at all. Nothing like Adara.”
“Indeed.”
Hot tears fill my eyes.
It’s one thing to know that I’ll never compare to Mother by my own standards. Knowing other people think it, too, is a whole other level of embarrassing.
“Well, find me after Blanc makes his speech. I always hate nights like this,” man number two says.
“As do I.”
Footsteps echo on the floor as the men leave.
My hand shakes as I finish off the flute of champagne. I can’t believe the words that I just overheard. How am I supposed to go into the dining room knowing that’s what others think of me? The glass clanks against the windowsill as I set it down.
“Is someone there?”
Crap!
Crap! Crap! Crap!
“Hello?”
I’m reaching for my shoes when a man enters my little sanctuary. He’s tall, with broad shoulders. Much like every other man here, he’s dressed in a black suit with a Brotherhood pin on the lapel of his suit jacket. There’s something familiar about him.
“Well, what do we have here?”
He smiles down at me, and suddenly I know why he looks familiar.
“You’re Grant Carter.”
“I am. And who might you be?”
A bitter laugh leaves my lips before I can stop it.
“Something funny?”
I stand, stepping into my shoes.
“Not at all.”
He stops me as I try to pass.
“You old enough to be drinking that?”
He nods his head toward my empty glass.
I smile up at him. “No. I’m not. Good night.”
My flats hit the tiled floor as I hurry away from that infuriating man. I’m almost to the door when he grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop.
“Have I made you mad?”
“Yes, you have.” I push a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Maybe you should make sure a room is empty before you decide to talk about someone. And definitely make sure the person you’re callously speaking about isn’t there!”
His eyes widen in horror, but I don’t wait to hear what he’s going to say. Heck, he’s probably not going to say anything. Men like Grant never apologize because that would mean they were wrong.
I reach the ballroom just as people are lining up to go to the dining room. Grandfather is at the front of the line with Charles and Aimée at his side. Part of me wants to go stand next to him just in case Grant Carter ends up behind me in line. But, my god, I don’t think I can stomach sitting next to Aimée for an entire meal. Not when I know she’ll make some kind of comment about my weight. Mother and Dad are right behind them. Yeah, definitely not going up there.
The line moves, but my luck is short-lived when Grant falls in line behind me.
“Ms. Blanc, I’d like to apologize for what you overheard.”
I glance at him and say, “For what I overheard, but not for what you said. How very typical.”
“I’m not sorry for what I said.”
Hurt cuts through me, and I choose not to respond.
He’s not worth my time or breath.
In the dining room, people sit. I already know I’m going to sit at the end of the table, near the door. Far, far, far away from Mother.
Taking my seat, I try not to watch where Grant goes. My stomach drops when he sits next to me.
“Looks like we’re dinner mates.”
How is this happening?
I’m saved from another reply when a tall man sits across from me. My cheeks feel warm as I reach for my water. Alessandro Moretti also known as the Violent God. All the men in the Defiant God Brotherhood have nicknames, and Alessandro got his because of what he does for the Brotherhood. Not just the Brotherhood. For our family, too. He saved Grandfather. For that, I will always be indebted to him, violent or not.
He smiles at me. “Greer.”
“Mr. Moretti.”
“I told you, Greer, please, call me Alessandro. Mr. Moretti makes me feel so old.”
I know my cheeks are red…I can feel the heat, but Alessandro doesn’t call attention to my awkwardness.
Grant Carter, on the other hand, doesn’t have the same issues.
He says in a low tone, “He’s awfully old for you, Little Fae.”
Hearing the nickname is like icy water being doused over me.
I glare. “Too old to sit across from me for dinner?”
“Yes.” He looks around. “Though I don’t see a table for the children…”
I wonder how much trouble I’d get in if I hit him?
Alessandro must be oblivious to what’s happening on my side of the table because he asks Grant, “How’s the new job?”
“I was recently promoted. Haven’t you heard?”
“Can’t say that I have.” He lifts his tumbler, tilting it toward Grant. “Cheers.”
Grant is almost smirking as he lifts his glass, too. Ugh. I cannot stand this man. That’s why I feel zero regret or remorse when I elbow him in the side, making him sputter into his drink.
“Something wrong, Carter?”
Grant pushes my arm away and answers Alessandro, “Not at all. Is Henderson coming tonight?”
“Sadly, business takes him elsewhere.”
Grant replies, but I’ve already stopped listening. Even though this is Grandfather’s birthday party, at the core it’s still a Brotherhood meeting. And no one here truly wishes to speak to a sixteen-year-old girl, as Grant pointed out. Instead, I get lost in my own thoughts. Thoughts centered on the handsome man across from me.
Before I know it, the birthday cake is being served and Grandfather stands, getting everyone’s attention.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. Eighty-five is a remarkable milestone, and I’m honored to share it with you all.” He smiles as he looks at Dad. “It has been my greatest honor being your father, son. You have made me proud, and I am so very happy to go on this journey with you.”
I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s an energy coursing throughout the room that wasn’t there moments ago. An energy that makes me want to run and hide.
Dad stands, too. “You have been an inspiration, sir. Not only as my father, but as the Head of the Brotherhood. I gladly follow you on this last journey.”
Something isn’t right. I can tell. No one will look at me, and Mother seems almost…happy. I look at Alessandro, hoping to find some kind of answer, but don’t. My head turns to Grant. He stares back at me with sympathy in his eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a low whisper.
“Your grandfather and father are stepping down from the Brotherhood.”
My eyebrows lift and I shake my head. “That can’t be right. The Brotherhood is for life.”
I’ve heard it for as long as I can remember. Long before I knew what it meant. The cardinal rule each member of the Defiant God Brotherhood lives by.
Our vow…Until death.
Grant leans in, taking my hand in his. “The Brotherhood is for life, Little Fae.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your grandfather is sick. He’s stepping down and your cousin, Charles, is taking his spot as the Head of the Brotherhood. From this moment on, the Brotherhood will follow his lead.” There’s a slight pause. “Charles has asked your father to step down, too, so no one questions Charles’ right to be in charge.”
“How can they step down, though?”
“Fuck. Did no one speak to you before you left your house?”
I shake my head.
He says, “Your father and grandfather are going to have a special drink that Charles gives them. Once they drink it, they will go to sleep…”
I shake my head, denying what he’s not saying.
“No! Dad wouldn’t do that to me. Grandfather wouldn’t, either!”
“I’m sorry, Little Fae.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I jump to my feet, gaining stares from everyone in the room.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
“Sit down, Greer, or I’ll have you removed.” His tone is firm.
My gaze goes to Grandfather, but he won’t look at me. Why won’t he look at me?
Mother says, “I told you we should have left her at home.”
Dad looks at her. “Did you do as I asked?”
“Of course I did.”
But she blinks twice, her telltale for when she’s lying.
What did he ask her to do?
It involves me, that much is sure.
Was she supposed to tell me what was going to happen tonight?
A sob works its way up my throat.
Dad turns to Grandfather. “I will follow you until the end, sir.”
Grandfather gestures to Charles, who sits at his right. “My grandson, Charles, does the entire Blanc family proud today, ensuring our family’s legacy continues. Brother Blanc, please pour the drinks.”
Charles stands, going to a small wooden table behind Grandfather.
I’ve never seen that table before.
Why is it here?
And why are there two black goblets on it?
Grant grasps my hand, pulling me down into my seat.
“Look at me, Little Fae.”
I don’t want to.
“Greer. Look at me. Now.”
His commanding tone has me dragging my gaze from my family to Grant.
“It sounds like your mother was supposed to prepare you for this. I don’t know why she didn’t, but it’s clear this was intentional.” He exhales. “You must be strong, understand? Any sign of weakness will be used against you.”
“Me? What am I to them?”
“You are royalty to the Brotherhood, and one day your husband will gain a membership to the Brotherhood because of you.”
I bite back a sob. “I never asked for this.”
“I know, Little Fae. I know.” He glances over my shoulder and says, “Only a bit longer.”
Hot tears fill my eyes. “Why doesn’t anyone stop them?”
“It’s the way of the Brotherhood.”
There’s a thud at the other end of the room that makes me flinch, as if I’ve been slapped.
Grant grabs my shoulders, ensuring I can’t turn to see who fell.
“You’ve got this, Little Fae.”
I shake my head. “I don’t. Nothing will ever be the same again.”
“No, it won’t,” he agrees. “But you’re strong. You’re going to be just fine.”
“How can you say that? The only people in the world who care about me are leaving me!”
“They don’t matter. None of them matter.”
“You’re wrong. They do.”
“No, Little Fae. The only one who matters is you. Never forget that. Fight them every step of the way.”
Another thud has me swallowing down bile. It’s that or vomiting everywhere.
There’s more movement and then Grant lets go of my shoulders. I miss the bit of contact right away, but I’d never admit it.
“They’re covered.”
Covered? A sob works its way up my throat, but I choke it down. I won’t show emotion. I won’t!
Slowly, I turn.
I already know what I’m going to find.
Grandfather and Dad are dead.
What I don’t expect is to see Charles in Grandfather’s spot at the head of the table. I sure as hell don’t expect to see such smug looks on both Aimée’s and Mother’s faces.
Mother touches Charles’ arm. “You have made this family proud, Head Elite Member Blanc.”
“Thank you, Aunt Adara. It is my honor to follow in the Blanc family’s footstep.”
“Indeed. I only ask that you make sure I am taken care of.”
Ice douses me. She said nothing about me. Was it intentional or simply a mistake?
Charles nods. “Of course, Aunt Adara. You and Greer will be taken care of. You are still one of us.”
Mother dips her head. “I would also like to ask you to grant me another marriage within the Brotherhood. Immediately, if possible.”
“Of course. And what of my cousin? Where will she stay when you remarry?”
“Greer is going away to boarding school in England next week and will be there until she graduates.”
My chest is tight. So it’s already been decided? Did she make this choice before or after she knew what Dad was going to do tonight? Probably before, knowing her. Having me out of her hair benefits her agenda. I mean, this way she can screw as many of Father’s friends as she’d like. My eyes water. I guess it’ll be different from now on, though. Now that father is dead…
Charles says, “The Elite Members and I will want to be updated on her progress.”
Mother answers, “Of course. Thank you for taking care of my family, Elite Members.”
Several men around the table dip their heads. The Elite Members. The only one I know is Peter Zhāng. He’s always given me an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Like, if he got me alone, there’s no telling what he’d try. He’s also one of the men Mother has been screwing around with.
He stands. “Elite Member Blanc, might I suggest that we settle the matter of the younger Ms. Blanc’s fate tonight?”
Charles’ gaze dances over me, then to the man at my side. I don’t have to look at Grant to know he’s angry. I mean, I already know his thoughts about marrying me.
Charles says, “I know what both my grandfather and uncle wished for Greer. To marry Grant Carter.”
Grant’s chair scrapes against the floor, much like mine did moments ago.
“Gentlemen, should we not have this discussion when the entire Brotherhood is present?”
Zhāng answers, “Those who matter are here.”
Meaning the Elite Members. Because they’re the ones who control what happens within the Brotherhood. A committee of five now led by Charles. Dread spreads through my body, making my stomach feel like it’s full of rocks. What does my future look like now that Charles is the one who controls it?
Grant says, “Do I not get to plead my case?”
Charles glances at Zhāng, who dips his head.
Charles says, “You may, Brother Carter.”
“Thank you. Elite Members, many of you know that this marriage was both Hugo and Hudson’s wish, but both agreed that now was not the time to make it official.” He pauses. “Ms. Blanc is young. Not even legal in the eyes of the law. Too young to be locked into a marriage contract.”
Zhāng says, “My first wife and I had a marriage contract when she was an infant. Age means nothing. When Ms. Blanc turns eighteen, the two of you will marry.”
Grant replies, “It’s also true that your first marriage was unhappy, resulting in a self-inflicted death by your wife.”
Zhāng’s portly cheeks turn purple. “How dare you!”
“I’m only speaking the truth, Elite Member Zhāng.”
Charles says, “You have a point, but my cousin has been raised in this world. She knows what’s expected of her.”
“Then let me point out what the world expects of me .”
Dread coils in my stomach because I have a good idea of where this is going.
“I will eventually be the President of the United States of America. This is the path the Defiant God Brotherhood has chosen for me, and I accept the responsibility.” He pauses, making sure he has the attention of everyone in the room. “The world will have expectations of who my spouse is.”
Charles nods. “This is true, but my cousin comes from a good family with a long history in politics. The world will see your union as a political match made in heaven.”
Bile creeps up my throat and I fear I’m going to be sick because Charles is going to force Grant to say the same things I overheard earlier.
And he does.
“I’m going to be blunt, Elite Member Blanc. The young Ms. Blanc is…lacking in several areas. She is no beauty, as we all can see. Her weight is often on the heavy side. And she lacks common social skills. All things that can be fixed, but I highly doubt they will be corrected by her eighteenth birthday.”
Aimée snorts, hiding her laughter behind her hand.
She says to Charles, “Oh my. It seems we’re not the only ones who have noticed her…flaws.”
Charles smiles down at his wife, saying something in a low tone. She answers, which has him nodding.
A moment later, he says, “You have made fair points, Brother Carter. No marriage contract will be signed tonight.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Elite Member Blanc.”
He settles into his chair next to me, like he didn’t just embarrass me in a room full of important people.
Alessandro Moretti says in a low tone, “You’re a dick, Carter. How could you do that?”
“Refuse to marry her or point out her flaws?” Grant reaches for his glass, bringing it to his lips. “Be more specific, Moretti.”
Alessandro glances at me before saying, “Pointing out her flaws.”
I shouldn’t, but I find myself looking at Grant to see what he has to say.
He glances at me before answering. “I did her a favor.”
“Bullshit,” Alessandro spits out. “You did yourself a favor.”
Grant shrugs. “Either way, I don’t have to marry her.”
I can’t take anymore. Pushing my chair back, I run from the room, going to the second floor to the guest room that Grandfather lets me use. Hot tears stream down my face.
Dad and Grandfather are dead.
Mother is sending me away.
Everyone thinks I’m worthless.
My world will never be the same.
But one thing is clear.
I hate Grant Carter.