Chapter 16 #3
Glittering jewels, rings, stacks of cash, and a small, oval-encrusted object that looked suspiciously like a Fabergé egg cluttered the safe’s shelves.
Casimir began rifling through the jewelry, searching for the necklace. He didn’t stop until he came across a small velvet case at the very back shelf. After peering inside, he shut the case and then turned to me with a triumphant grin.
“Wait, aren’t you going to let me see—” The words died in my throat at the sound of footsteps thudding down the cellar steps.
Wide-eyed, I hissed, “What are we going to—” But Casimir was quicker.
He closed the safe and slipped the velvet case into his pocket.
Abruptly, he seized my shoulders, pushed me against the cellar wall, and pressed his lips to my neck.
My entire body went rigid, my face blazing with heat at his sudden onslaught.
I was too shocked to do anything but gasp, eyes wide as I beheld the girl who emerged from the stairs. It was Bryce.
“Oh!” Bryce cried in surprise. Her expression was nothing short of horrified. “Oh, I-I just came down to grab more wine…” Pink bloomed high on her cheeks as she grabbed a couple of bottles from a nearby case.
Casimir turned around to glance at her, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. Of course, he wanted Bryce to think we’d come down here for privacy.
If it were possible to die of mortification, I’d be a corpse by now. Bryce ran back up the stairs, and Casimir released me, stepping back to give me space.
“Are you fucking insane?” I rasped, still clutching the place on my neck where his lips had just been.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said, smoothing out his shirt. “I did warn you I might need you as a distraction.”
I gave an indignant huff. “You’re fucking unbelievable!”
Casimir merely shrugged.
“It’ll be all over the school by tomorrow. Bryce is a very accomplished gossip,” I groaned.
Casimir raised a brow. “Does that bother you?”
In lieu of answering, I muttered, “We’d better get back upstairs before anyone else sees us.”
“Now who’s being evasive?” he teased. “Why are you in such a hurry to get back?”
Because I’m afraid of being alone with you.
I glanced around at the crates of wine and champagne Bryce had purchased for the party, the sum of which must’ve cost more than my house.
It was nice to get a break from the acrid scent of lies that permeated the foyer and parlor upstairs.
I was reminded of the many lies people told when they were drunk.
False compliments and flattery. Promises they couldn’t keep, or empty boasts they’d regret once the stupor of drink wore off.
A noise escaped my throat, somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a groan, earning a strange look from Casimir.
I shook my head. “Coming here tonight reminded me why I don’t like parties,” I explained. “They positively reek of liars.”
Comprehension dawned over his face, and he broke into a dazzling grin. “You must suffer unduly,” he teased. “We must remember to bring you a pair of nose plugs next time.”
I snorted at the image. As we made our way back to the main floor, I couldn’t help but feel the ghost of Casimir’s lips like a brand on my neck.
He only kissed me to conceal our theft, I reminded myself. It didn’t mean anything.
I spurned the champagne proffered from a passing silver tray in favor of a glass of water. Maybe I ought to pace myself after all, I was beginning to feel woozy from the alcohol. Or maybe it was Casimir’s words making me feel dizzy. Maybe I haven’t corrupted you thoroughly enough.
Casimir tapped my shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I need to say hello to someone.” He walked away and left me alone with my dizzying thoughts.
My thigh prickled at the memory of what he’d done in the cellar as the remnants of liquor buzzed in my veins. Why didn’t it bother me more that he’d stolen something, a necklace that didn’t belong to him?
The bar was still crawling with people laughing and talking, sloppily drunk and heedless of the way the wine in their cups spilled onto the floor.
I tugged down my dress to ensure it still covered my tattoo. The last thing I needed was for one of these drunken fools to see it and inform the entire school of my humiliation. It was as if Casimir branded me again and again with every word, with every touch and glance he stole…
Someone grabbed at my elbow. I whirled around, expecting to see Casimir but—
Monty Prescott appeared at my side, abruptly halting my ruminations. “Arden Farrow!” he exclaimed, snaking a hand around my shoulders. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
Of all the people who could’ve spotted me at this party, why did it have to be Monty? The pompous fool.
The effect of the liquor had rendered his stupid, smirking demeanor somehow even more obnoxious.
I physically recoiled at his touch, but he took no notice.
“Listen…” He leaned in, his hot breath reeking of booze.
“Since you and Sinclair are—” he made a gesture with his finger like a knife across his throat.
He knew? I shrank away from him.
“—I was thinking that this summer might be the perfect time for you to come up and see my family’s vineyard. We could take the schooner out for a spin.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “No one would have to know. It could be our little secret.”
I wrenched out of his grip with a noise of disgust. “No thanks,” I scowled. “I’ll pass on that offer.”
Monty laughed as if my rejection was meaningless. As if it were no obstacle at all. “Come on, Farrow,” he slurred. “S’not every day I invite a girl up to the estate. You should count yourself lucky.” His demeanor changed then, and he glared down at me with cold gray eyes.
I felt like prey. Like an animal with nowhere to run. I made to bolt from the room, but despite being drunk, Monty was too quick. He lunged, catching my wrist.
“Let go of me, Monty,” I warned, hating the tremble in my voice.
But Monty leaned down to hiss into my ear, “You let Sinclair keep you all to himself. But he’s done with you now.”
The words chilled my blood even as I understood the truth in them.
I didn’t bother to lick my lips for traces of deceit; I knew there were none to be found.
August had used me and then discarded me, and now apparently, the whole of Ouverham College knew it too.
Shock precluded my awareness of the danger this drunken boy presented, and I stumbled over my feet as he tugged at my wrist, dragging me closer.
Dimly, I realized I had been right about one thing when it came to Monty.
He wasn’t used to being denied something he wanted.
And he’d certainly never heard the word no.
The trance broke at last, and adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I struggled in earnest. “Fucking—let me go!” I cried out, wrenching my arm painfully in an attempt to evade his grasp.
Monty only pulled me closer, laughing as he watched me struggle.
“So what, you’ll open your legs for Sinclair, but not for me?
You’re hunting for gold in the wrong places.
Sinclair’s skint, his fortune’s ruined.” He released me, and I fell hard against the bar, breathing hard.
My wrist throbbed from his punishing grip.
“Your loss,” he said. With a final, disdainful shake of his head, he turned back toward the foyer, but halted as something solid blocked his path.
Monty grunted, annoyed. “You’re in my way, Wrayburn.”
The look on Casimir’s face was indescribable. Fury, disgust, and cold malice fought for space over his features.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Casimir demanded.
I didn’t know how much of our unpleasant exchange he’d witnessed, but from his expression, he’d seen enough.
Monty’s brows disappeared beneath his sandy-blonde hair at the sight of Casimir looming over him. “I was trying to top off my drink,” he replied blithely.
“No,” said Casimir, stepping closer, his expression menacing. Bloodthirsty. “What I saw you doing was assaulting a girl who told you to fuck off.”
Casimir caught Monty’s wrist in a crushing grasp, and Monty grimaced.
Casimir went on, “You’re leaving, now. And if I ever catch you so much as looking at another girl against her will—” With his free hand, he bent one of Monty’s fingers backward at an unnatural angle, smiling as Monty whimpered in pain. “—I’ll break your fucking hand.”
Monty’s eyes were wide with pain. Sweat beaded over his pale forehead as he struggled against Casimir’s grasp.
“Alright, alright,” he panted. “I won’t bother her again. You’ve made your point.”
Casimir paused, his muscles taut, dark eyes assessing. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t think I have.”
And then I heard the sickening crack of Monty’s middle finger as the bone snapped.
Monty’s scream was somewhat muffled by the blaring music, but several onlookers gasped. Casimir shoved him aside. The room broke into excited titters.
“Is that the Farrow girl? Oh my god, did you see—?”
“Let’s go, Farrow,” Casimir growled, and before I could protest, he was pulling me from the room.
I followed, still dazed from my fear, from the sound of Monty’s finger snapping, from the violence in Casimir’s gaze. Monty’s hot, hateful words still rang in my ear.
You let Sinclair keep you all to himself. But he’s done with you now.
It could be our little secret.
I shuddered in disgust as Casimir guided us out onto the terrace that wrapped around the back of the manor. He slowed when we reached an empty corner of the veranda.
“What the fuck was that?” I demanded.
“He deserved worse than I gave him,” Casimir spat. His chest continued to rise and fall, more from anger than exertion.
His eyes found mine, dipping to my wrist where Monty had grabbed me. I’d probably have a few bruises.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I bit out. “Monty’s a bastard, but you didn’t need to break his finger to prove a point.”
Casimir smiled crookedly at that, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“Like I said, he deserved worse. If you’d like, I’d be happy to go back inside and break the rest of his useless fingers.”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “We’ve had enough barbarism for one evening.”
“I might break them anyway,” he muttered.
Already, I felt exhausted, and the clock hadn’t even struck midnight. To change the subject, I asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s so special about this necklace you stole?”
As he reached into his pocket to retrieve the velvet box, a group of girls came stumbling onto the veranda. One of them was eyeing Casimir with interest.
“Not here,” he replied in a clipped tone. “Let’s find somewhere more private to talk.”