Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
LILY
Tristan has been hovering over me for days. It’s adorable, but a girl has to use the bathroom still and talk shit with her best friend, so when he got yanked to his computer, I was more than okay with it. He’s been in there a few hours now.
He’s working with Julian, something that requires “operational security” and a lot of scowling.
I don’t understand half the shit on his computer screen.
Okay, like ninety-five percent. I’ve learned not to ask unless I want a power nap.
I’ll get condensed details later. Instead, I’m in the kitchen with Teddy and Roland, watching him bake.
It smells of cinnamon and what I’d guess innocent childhood would be if it had a smell, too.
“The secret is browning the butter first,” Roland says, stirring with precise, economical movements. “Most people skip this step.” This man can do everything. I don’t even understand why you have to brown it. I like my butter straight up.
“Most people are cowards,” Teddy agrees, stealing a chocolate chip.
The tablet on the kitchen island buzzes, making Roland’s graying eyebrows rise. He always has the thing with him. It runs this house, like his trusty sidekick. I hope he doesn’t have to leave before our treats are done.
He wipes his hands and moves to retrieve it with the unhurried grace of a man who has never once panicked in his life.
“There’s a Ms. Sasha Chen at the gate,” the security voice says. “Says she needs to speak with Mr. Vanderbilt urgently. There is a family emergency.”
I freeze. Sasha. What the hell is she doing here? Teddy and I share a look.
“Let her in,” I say before I can think better of it.
Teddy gets a mischievous smirk. “Yeah, let her in—”
“She’s his family friend. His assistant. Whatever.” I’m already moving toward the front of the house, Teddy and Roland trailing behind. “If something’s wrong, we should know.”
We reach the foyer, pulling open the doors as she arrives from the front gate. She’s in a cream coat and heels, perfect as always, her face arranged in careful concern, but I can see it in her eyes; she’s pissed that I’m here with Tristan.
“Oh, thank God,” she starts. “Lily, I was so worried. When Tristan stopped returning my calls, I thought—”
“You thought what?” I cross my arms. “That I told him that you’re a snake and now he wants nothing to do with you?” Teddy snorts beside me.
Sasha’s expression flickers, just for a second.
“I don’t know what you mean. I just need to see him.
This is about his safety—I’ve learned things about some people that are after you, and you’re going to get him in the crosshairs because of your family’s bullshit.
You’re a spoiled little brat who only cares about herself. ”
Teddy stiffens beside me. “How would you come to know all that?” Teddy may play aloof, but she clocks everything.
Sasha’s mouth opens and closes. I watch frustration take over, her careful makeup-covered mask slipping. “Because I’ve been trying to protect him! From you, from all of this. I’ve been feeding them information to keep him safe, to get you out of his life before you destroy everything he’s built—”
I don’t remember deciding to punch her. My fist simply connects with her jaw, and she crumples, heels skidding on the marble, out cold before she hits the ground.
Teddy and I stare at each other. Oh shit. I look at my fist and smile. My dad taught me that, and it worked!
“Oh shit?!” Teddy makes a cringe face, like we’ve done it this time. “What do we do? Is she dead?” If only.
Roland steps around us both, gazing down at Sasha’s unconscious form with the mild interest of a man examining a fallen soufflé. “I’ll have to take her to the greenhouse,” he says as if commenting on the weather. “You ladies can question her there.”
Teddy and I circle the fountain out front, coming up with questions and tactics to get her to crack and spill everything. After about fifteen minutes, we head down to the greenhouse as instructed.
It’s humid and smells of orchids and damp earth when we enter. Teddy and I both peer down into the concrete hole with stairs.
“Think there are spiders?” Teddy asks. They freak her out with all the legs and eyes.
“If not, we can find one, I’m sure, and put it down her clothes.”
Teddy’s eyes are wide, and she gapes at me. “That’s brilliant, but you’re finding the spider and handling it.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I joke; at least I think it’s a joke, but maybe not. I go first down the stairs to make sure Teddy Bear doesn’t fall.
Sasha is tied to a metal chair, her wrists bound with zip ties; her perfect hair is already wilting in the heat.
“Untie me,” she demands. “This is kidnapping. Assault. You little fucking psychopaths.”
“You’re trespassing,” I say, leaning against a potting table that has straps on it.
“You let me through the gate!” Shit, she’s right there.
“You have committed treason!” I try again.
“What?”
“I know you’re colluding with another country against us.” Not sure if that actually fits, but I’m rolling with it.
“How could it be treason?” She smirks like she wants to be punched again. See, now this is asking for it. “It’s your country, after all.”
“Bitch, why are you smirking? She’s a princess in that country.” Teddy steps up, wielding gardening shears. She points them at her. “We’re going to need your phone password, Sasha. Also, the names of every contact you have in Grandeurs.”
Teddy is really slipping into this role effortlessly. I suppose her husband is a hitman, and this torture room is on her property.
“Go to hell,” Sasha hisses.
“Already there.” Teddy snips the air with the shears. “Roland? Are my requests ready?” When did she make the requests?
Roland enters with a tray, setting it on the table beside Sasha. It holds her phone, a pair of scissors, and what looks like a feather duster.
“I’ll leave you to it, Doctor,” he says solemnly before heading back up the stairs. Shit, I should have asked for a spider.
Teddy picks up the phone. “Let’s start with your camera roll.” She turns it toward Sasha, the Face ID unlocking it.
“How many unflattering photos do you think we’ll find?” I ask Teddy.
“Don’t you dare—”
Teddy is already scrolling. “Oh my God. Is this a selfie at a funeral?”
“Work event,” Sasha spits.
“And this one? Does your mother know about these?” My eyes burn when I see the picture. It has a million others like it, like she couldn’t get the picture just right of her vagina.
“That’s—”
“Oh no.” Teddy’s voice drops to a whisper. “Sasha. Your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. She’s so pretty. And you still follow her?”
“Give me that!” Sasha lunges, chair scraping, and I shove her back with one hand. Teddy is already giddy, sending a message to the ex and the girlfriend, pretending to be Sasha.
“You should start talking,” I say, picking up the scissors.
Sasha’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t—”
I grab a handful of her perfect, glossy hair and cut it. Just a chunk, right at the front, jagged and ugly, and bangs can’t even save it. She screams, high and outraged, and I drop the hair in her lap like an offering.
“That’s for calling Tristan ‘family,’” I say. “When you were selling him out.”
Teddy has found her banking app. “Should I send her savings to a cat rescue?”
“Yes.” I snap my fingers at the brilliant idea.
“No!” Sasha thrashes. “Stop! I’ll tell you everything! Just stop sending texts to my mother!”
Teddy pauses, thumb hovering over the screen. “Too late. I told her you’re pregnant.”
“You WHAT?”
“With triplets. By a Mr. Banks, the old man you’re banging.
I texted him too with the news. You know your mom hates him?
She’s losing her mind.” The phone is vibrating like crazy with responses.
“I used your exact texting style, which is, no offense, very formal and repressed.” I snort a laugh because that is how she talks when other people are around and she’s got her mask in place.
I pick up the feather duster, examining it. “Roland said something about a doctor. Is that you, Teddy?”
“Obviously.” Teddy cracks her knuckles. “Doctor of chaos.” I bite the inside of my cheek because that’s a terribly cheesy name but kind of fitting for the Teddy Bear.
“Now, Sasha. Let’s talk about every message you’ve sent to the queen’s people.
Every location you gave them. Every time you made my best friend feel unsafe in her own home.
” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Teddy sound so serious.
Sasha is crying now, ugly, her mascara running down her face. Teddy snaps a pic. “I just wanted her gone,” she sobs. “I wanted things back to normal. He’s supposed to be with someone who understands him, not some—”
“Some what?” My voice is quiet. I shouldn’t even have asked because nothing she thinks or says about me matters.
“Some silly young adult who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
I lean in close, close enough to smell her expensive perfume. “Oh, Sasha, I know exactly what I’m doing. And you’re going to tell us everything, or I’m going to let Teddy post your browser history to LinkedIn.”
“Wait.” Teddy leans forward. “There’s still LinkedIn?” I shrug. “I’ll find it and post it everywhere else too.”
Sasha breaks. Names, dates, drop points, coded messages. It pours out of her, desperate and damning, while Teddy types it all into her phone and Roland brings us lemonade like this is a garden party.
We’re still there, still extracting every secret, when the security alarm blares through the estate.
Tristan’s voice comes over the intercom, calm but still terrifying: “Lily and Teddy, get to the vault. Now.”
Teddy and I look at each other as Roland appears once again.
“The queen has arrived.”
“Guessing you don’t mean fun drag queens,” Teddy mutters disappointedly.
I’m not. I’ve got a head to collect. I glance back to Sasha. Maybe two of them.