Chapter 8 #3
“Blake, I didn’t tell you about Silas because I thought you’d go all Rambo and try to kill him or something,” I smirk.
“Probably better you didn’t tell me, but since you’re out in one piece, I’ll let it go, and we focus on the plan.”
“Aye Aye, Captain,” I quip. “So, where to now?" I apply some lip gloss in the mirror on the sun visor.
"The Frost Society. Let's see what Helena Evermoore wants."
I give an affirmative nod. “Okay, let's go meet the women who really run Wintervale."
As Blake drives, I turn my head back for a glance at my childhood home one last time. While my father may have been an absentee prick much of my life, I have some good memories of holidays there with my Mom. Despite all of Wintervale’s flaws, she felt strongly connected to it here.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown: Your father made his choice. Now you've made yours. Smart girl. The Frost Society is at The Sugarloft Inn, private dining room, noon. Come alone or bring your guard dog. We don't care. We just want to talk. - H.E.
I show Blake in awe.
“How the fuck does everyone know what conversations I’ve had before I tell them? I mean, seriously. Am I wearing a wire?”
“That’s Helena," he chuckles. “She doesn’t know anything for sure. She’s just making assumptions from whatever intel she’s been given. She's not known for her patience, so if she’s insistent on meeting before the gala, she's making her move fast."
“Fine. I'm tired of waiting."
"Peyton." Blake's voice carries a warning.
"The women are dangerous in different ways than the Hollow Club.
They don't use violence. They use information. Leverage. Long-game manipulation. Helena's probably been planning her next move for decades. I wish we had dotted our I’s and crossed our T’s before this meet, but things are moving faster than even I anticipated. You need to be careful."
"I'm always careful."
“Don’t believe your own hype, pretty girl.”
I smile. "Maybe I'm learning from you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
The Sugarloft Inn sits on Wintervale's northern edge, all rustic luxury and old-money charm.
The kind of place where the wealthy pretend they're roughing it while staff cater to their every need.
Inside, we're directed to the private dining room by a hostess who doesn't ask our names. She knows. Everyone always knows in this town. It’s borderline creepy.
Helena Evermoore waits alone at a table set for three.
She's exactly what I expect and nothing like I imagined. She’s a seventy-something woman with a minute build, impeccably dressed, with perfectly coiffed silver hair and eyes that miss nothing.
There's steel beneath the elegance. Power beneath the polish.
She stands when we enter and extends a veiny but well-manicured hand. "Ms. Quinn. Mr. Delano. Thank you for coming."
"Mrs. Evermoore," I say, shaking her hand. Her grip is firm, assessing. I notice a beautiful opal and diamond ring on her finger. It’s vintage, like her.
"Please. Call me Helena. We're all adults here. No need for formalities." She gestures to the chairs. "Sit. I ordered a light lunch. You'll eat, we'll talk, and then you'll decide if what I'm offering is worth the cost."
Blake remains standing until I sit, then positions himself where he can see both exits. Protection mode. He never turns it off.
Helena notices and smiles. "Your bodyguard is well-trained."
"He's not my bodyguard," I say.
"No, I suppose he's not." Her eyes flick to Blake, back to me. "The question is what he is. Your partner? A lover perhaps? Or a co-conspirator? Maybe all three?"
"That's my business." I cross my legs, somewhat intimidated by my less polished appearance and her perfect one.
"Everything in Wintervale is everyone's business. You'll learn that quickly." She pours tea with elegant precision. "But I'm not here to discuss your relationship status. I'm here to discuss your future."
"I'm listening."
"Smart girl. Your mother was smart, too.
Stubborn, brilliant, determined to claim what was hers.
" Helena's expression softens fractionally.
"I liked Lila, and more importantly, I respected her.
When she came to me with suspicions of her lineage, I told her to be careful.
I warned her that the Kingsleys wouldn't accept a new heir quietly. "
“She came to you?” My breath catches. "You knew my mother?"
"I did. She came to a meeting three months before she died. She was hoping for our support in claiming her inheritance. I told her we'd consider it." Helena's voice drops. "Then she died, and the collective decided it was too dangerous to pursue."
"You let them kill her?”
"No, we had no idea of their nefarious plan. But once it was executed, I let them think they'd won. That it was over.” Helena meets my eyes directly. “But it’s never over. And I've been waiting three years for Lila’s daughter to be strong enough to finish what she started."
The words hang in the air between us.
"You want to use me," I say.
"I want to help you. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes. Using you would mean controlling your proxy votes for my own benefit.
Helping you means teaching you how to use them yourself.
" Helena sips her tea. “My organization has been fighting the Hollow Club's dominance for fifty years.
Born out of a fear of the feminist movement back then, those men have been a thorn in our sides since I was a teenager.
We've made progress, but we're still outnumbered, out-resourced, and operating in the shadows.
You, with your Kingsley inheritance, would change that equation. "
"How?"
"Because you don't just get votes. You get board seats.
Decision-making power on the Kingsley Foundation, the Kingsley Trust, and the development corporation.
You get a say in how Wintervale's oldest money moves.
" Helena leans forward. "And if you vote with us instead of against us, we can finally shift the balance of power in this town where it belongs…to the women.”
Blake speaks for the first time. "What's your price?"
Helena smiles. "Direct. I appreciate that. My price is simple—loyalty. I want Peyton's commitment that when she has power, she'll use it to advance our agenda."
"Which is?" I ask.
"Cleaning up Wintervale. Ending the corruption that's poisoned this town for generations. We were once a quaint getaway for people from the city, but now...” Helena's eyes are fierce.
“Now, the Kingsleys profit from trafficking, just like the Delanos and God knows who else. They make money from every corner of this town, regardless of its nature, and dress it up in charity and tradition. I want that to end. And I think you do too. This is our home.”
Our home.
"Why me?" I ask. "Why not wait for someone easier? My situation is hella complicated.”
"Because you're not easy. Because you're angry. Because you watched your mother be destroyed by those men and you want revenge." Helena's smile is sharp. "Anger is useful, Peyton, especially when it's aimed at the right targets."
I consider her offer. The alliance she's proposing. The cost of accepting help from people who are only marginally better than my enemies.
"I need time to think," I say.
“Tonight, Edmund Kingsley will make his move. You'll need allies. The Frost Society can be those allies, or we can sit back and watch you self-destruct…like your mother.” Helena stands. “It’s your choice. Choose wisely."
She leaves, gliding out of the dining room like she's already won.
Blake and I sit in silence for a moment. I consider the conversation. I don’t hate the woman, but I didn’t like her either.
"What do you think?" I ask.
"I think Helena Evermoore is dangerous, calculating, and playing a game we can't see all the pieces of." He turns to face me. "I also think she's right. You need allies. The question is whether you trust her enough to accept her help."
"Do you?"
"I trust that her interests align with ours, at least for now. That's the best we're going to get in Wintervale, a few hours before you’re coming-out party.”
I imagine he's right. Perfect allies don't exist here, only temporary partnerships built on mutual benefit.
"Okay," I say. "Tonight at the gala, I'll give Helena my answer."
"Which will be?"
"I don't know yet." I stand, suddenly exhausted. "Blake, I need—"
I don't finish the sentence because I don't need to. Suddenly, he's there, pulling me into his strong arms, holding me while I shake with adrenaline and fear.
“You’ve got this,” he says against my hair. “I’m here.”
“You promise?" Remembering how he emotionally locked me out the minute after he came inside me.
"Promise."
It's a lie. He can't promise me jack shit, but I let him anyway. Because sometimes lies are all the comfort one can get, even if it's temporary.
His phone buzzes. He checks it and curses.
"What now?”
“My cousin Nico. He's at Frost & Flame. Says he needs to talk. Says it's urgent. It’s probably about the family meeting.”
"It's a trap." I throw back the words he’d use with me.
“Yeah, but he's my cousin. If there's any chance he's trying to help me, I need to know.”
“Your family dynamic is giving me whiplash, but okay, we go,” I pull back. "But we go armed and ready to leave fast."
Blake smiles proudly. "You're learning, Pattawan.”
"I have a good teacher, Yoda,” I say, giggling because I totally get the Star Wars reference. My mom loved the franchise.
Let me find out that Blake is a science fiction nerd on top of the best lay I’ve ever had. That would make him almost the perfect man.
We leave The Sugarloft Inn and head back into the heart of Wintervale, where another Delano waits with information that will either save us or destroy us.
And the clock ticks down to tonight.
To the gala.
To the moment when I claim my inheritance or lose everything.
Because I'm done running.
Done hiding.
Done being the thing people take from.
Tonight, I become the thing they fear.