Page 94 of Promise to Break

"That speech was something else." And there it is, the journalist.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Hope."

"Maricela, call me by my name. We're not in the classroom."

I say nothing. Maverick is one of the best journalists out there. He could make a nun confess her non-existent sins with just a few words.

"Have you thought about my proposal? School is about to end."

"I'm still considering all my options," I lie. I can't work with the indirect self-made enemy of my sister.

"Mr. Hope, so glad to see you here and with my daughter-in-law, no less." We both turn to see Franco behind us.

"So, it's like that?"

"Well, yes. How else would you call the sister of your daughter-in-law?" Franco sounds amused. "The sister of my daughter-in-law is too impersonal, don't you think?"

"Well, of course, it is. I was surprised I was invited in the first place."

"Nonsense. I have nothing to hide. Your journalistic delusions are just that, and you're the teacher of one of mine. It was only polite. Now, can I steal Maricela away? She promised me a dance, and after spending all day in the kitchen, she looks like a goddess. Don't you think?"

Franco's hand on mine feels wrong. I want to remove it, but I can't.

"Indeed." Maverick pulls his proper gentleman mask on. I wonder, do any of the people around me show their true colors? Killian does.

As soon as his name comes to mind, I see him.

A slow classical waltz is playing. "Franco, I don't know how to dance the waltz."

"Worry not. It's all about the leader. Just follow me."

I keep my mouth shut, letting him position me in the way he likes.

"Leave your hand bent like this and put it on my shoulder." I do as told, shivering the entire time. I don't like this. His other hand goes around my waist. "Good. Now move with me, and don't think."

I step on him time and time again, and he just smiles, but it's not the fake kind of smile I'm used to seeing. No, these are feral and full of teeth.

"What do you have going with Maverick?"

Is he for real? "Nothing. He's my teacher." I consider telling Franco what I told Killian, but I don't.

Franco sighs. "Maricela, I know you aren't stupid." A sarcastic thanks is on the tip of my tongue, but another violent shiver leaves me as he holds me closer. "It's okay to fuck your teacher if you want to, but not him."

I gape. "I don't, and I would never." I hate how small I sound.

"I don't give a fuck if you do. Use your lips on any dick you want. Just don't use them in dangerous ways, or someone may have to pay for it." A threat clearer than any could be.

He leaves me on the dance floor, alone, just for Killian to take his place. None of the slimy feelings are here as he takes my hand in his.

"Your father—" I start.

"Why were you speaking with Maverick Hope?"

Is he for real? "Because that's what you do when someone addresses you at a party."

"Don't talk to him anymore. You passed your exams. You no longer have any reason to speak with him. Don't act like a whore."

My mouth hangs open in shock until I pull myself together. "Go fuck yourself, Killer." I use his nickname as a swear.

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