Chapter seven
I knew things I shouldn’t know.
I’d seen things I shouldn’t have seen.
Weeks had gone by, and I’d made myself sick watching and re-watching the video I’d accidentally recorded at the community center.
I couldn’t just stay quiet about what I knew. Someone had to say something.
How many times had they done this? Was this the first? Would they do it again?
It wasn’ttheirjob to decide whether other people should have children or not. It didn’t matter how much money or power they had. That wasn’t a choice they got to make.
“The invitation says no cell phones,” Tatum said, yanking me out of my thoughts to remind me I wouldn’t be posting tomorrow night’s events to my Insta.
She was standing in her closet sifting through racks of clothes, trying to decide what to wear tomorrow for Mischief Night. I was sitting on the floor with my knees bent and back against the wall.
I’d already chosen my outfit—black leather pants and a cropped t-shirt. I wasn’t even sure I could get in. Tatum was the one with the invitation, and it wasn’t like there were rules posted anywhere about bringing a plus-one.
I rolled my eyes and dipped the brush into the bottle of nail polish. I coated my big toe in bright red, then looked over at her. “The invitation also saysTatum Huntington, but here I am, showing up anyway.” I never went anywhere without my phone, especially not after what I witnessed at the community center.
I kept waiting for someone to show up and tell me they knew what I’d heard.
They never did.
It all felt wrong—sitting here planning a night out while people across the world were being fed drugs without their knowledge.
Tatum pulled out a black corset top and held it against her front.
“Hell yes. That’s hot as fuck.” I painted another toenail, then examined my work. “Kyle is going to come in his pants.” I looked up just in time to see her blush, then shove the corset back in the rack of clothes.
“Are you nervous?” she asked as she slid down the wall and sat beside me.
“Nope.” I painted the last toenail. “And you shouldn’t be either.” I leaned my head on her shoulder. “Because we’re doing this together.” I kissed her cheek. “I got you, boo.” My words felt scripted, rehearsed. Probably because my mind was a million miles away.
“I wouldn’t go without you.”
“I know.”
Tatum was popular in her world because of her family name… and Lincoln. But she didn’t immerse herself in it. She played the part to please her parents, but comparing designer brands over lattes wasn’t exactly her thing.
I got up and walked over to her closet, pulled the corset back out, then set it on her bed. “Wear the fucking corset.” I winked, then bent down to grab my flip-flops. “I have some things to do, but I’ll be ready tomorrow at eight o’clock if you want to pick me up.”
“It’s a date.”
“Hottest date in town.” I blew her a kiss, then headed out to do what I should’ve done from the start.
I was going to confront Kipton Donahue.
Everything about this place was immaculate. From the black iron gates at the end of the driveway to the double-arched front doors that looked like something that belonged on a castle somewhere. The Donahue house was every bit as intimidating as the man who owned it.
A middle-aged man wearing a black suit answered the door. His gaze scanned my casual appearance. The scowl told me I didn’t meet his approval.
Before I could ask for Kipton, a woman with dark hair, high cheekbones, and full lips walked up behind him. Her bright red heels clicked with every step she took. The matching red dress flattered her tall, lean figure. She held a champagne flute half full of orange liquid—a mimosa, I would have guessed. She was a beautiful woman. Everything about her screamed classic sophistication.
She smiled and it seemed genuine. Had to be the alcohol. No one in the world of the elite smiled at me that way except Tatum and Lincoln. “Caspian isn’t here, dear.”
She thought I was here for Caspian. Of course she did. Why would a seventeen-year-old girl be knocking on the door looking for Kipton Donahue? It was at this moment that I realized I really hadn't thought this through. I didn’t think a lot of things through. It was the way I lived my life.