Page 50 of Necessary Cruelty

Seventeen

I pull at my bowtie,fighting the urge to rip the stupid thing off my neck and throw it across the room. Wearing a tuxedo feels about as binding as a straightjacket and puts me in a similar frame of mind.

You’d have to be a little crazy to get any pleasure out of this shit.

The last thing I want to do is throw open the doors of Cortland Manor and let every knuckle dragger in Deception wander through our house, but it isn’t as if I have a choice.

Sophia is just happy to be here, if the dozens of text messages she sent over the last few hours are any indication. Her excitement is naïve and might even be flattering under different circumstances.

I remind myself that she doesn’t want me because I’m me. Everybody wants Vincent Renaldo Cortland, prince of Deception. Twirling on my arm in a ball gown while the whole town watches with envy is just part of the fantasy. She wouldn’t be so excited to sit out front of a shanty house in the Gulch and drink light beer.

If my inheritance disappeared, so would she.

That makes it easier to take advantage of her with a clear conscience, or at least one that has gone mercifully quiet. The angel and devil on my shoulder went to war years ago, and it doesn’t take an idiot to figure out which side won that battle.

I stand sandwiched between my little sister and Sophia in the receiving line. Emma keeps casting curious, if reserved, glances Sophia’s way, but doesn’t say anything until a few dozen people have gone past us.

“She is wearing really tall shoes,” Emma whispers to me during a break in the flow of people, because she hasn’t learned what stripper heels are yet. “I hope she doesn’t tip over, because then everyone will see up her skirt.”

I just shake my head and try not to laugh.

Or cry.

My father seems surprised to see me with a date, but he doesn’t say anything, either. He knows better than to comment on how I handle this situation, especially considering his terrible decision making got me here in the first place. Giselle doesn’t even seem to notice anything is different. Her focus is exclusively on all the effusive compliments as people marvel over thatdramatic crystal chandelier or the original wood paneling.

Sophia’s hand tightens on my arm whenever a girl from our school moves through the receiving line, nails practically digging into the skin. I’m sure she has already told anyone who will listen that she has officially staked a claim. At some point, I assume she’ll raise her dress and piss on my leg, just to make it clear to anyone in smelling distance that I belong to her.

At any other point, I’d feel the need to put her back in her place. But even standing right next to me, Sophia is barely on my radar right now.

Zaya hasn’t shown up yet, and neither has Jake. I can’t help but wonder if they’ve decided to skip the ball completely. Maybe they’re holed up somewhere together, engaging in other forms of entertainment.

The thought makes my blood boil.

The crowd of arrivals eventually thins until there is only a trickle of late arrivals. My father and Giselle wander off to mingle while Emma is dragged back upstairs by her nanny.

“Do you want to dance?” Sophia asks, trailing her fingers up and down my arm in a way she must think is flirtatious but is mostly just annoying.

“In a minute.”

My gaze stays trained on the massive front doors, willing them to open again. Almost everyone I’ve ever met has wandered past us at this point. If Zaya and Jake aren’t here, then they have to be alone because Deception is basically a ghost town at this point.

Sophia shifts closer to me, her hand moving down the front of my pants. “Or we could do something else if you want.”

My hands rise to her shoulders with every intention of pushing her away.

Then the door opens again.

Zaya appears first, peeking her head furtively through the opening as if afraid someone might slam it in her face. Her gaze takes in the empty entryway as she slowly enters the house with Jake right behind her, his hand on the small of her back.

I wait for her attention to shift across the room. She visibly startles to find me standing there and staring her down. She stops short and freezes, gaze lingering on where my hands rest over Sophia’s shoulders.

In a spark of inspiration, I pull Sophia close with an arm around her waist. Like the response is Pavlovian, her body melts against mine.

Zaya won’t know that Sophia isn’t in on the trick.

Some mysterious emotion blooms in her eyes before they narrow and she lets Jake hustle her away.

The moment Zaya is out of sight, I step away from Sophia. Zaya’s gaze is burned onto my retinas.

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