Page 84 of Gilded Fake

“I’ve been at the bottom too,” she says. “I’ve been where you are. At least you had a leg up. I had nothing going for me. I was the Darling Dog. I was bullied, just like you.”

“Except you’re the reason I was bullied,” I say, my impatience with her poor-me act bubbling up. “I never said a bad word about you, Dixie. And I’m supposed to feel sorry for you because for a couple months, four years ago, some guys with a humiliation kink put a collar and leash on you—which, if the rumors are true, you wanted and enjoyed? How is that in any way comparable to what the Dolce boys do? What they did to me for years?”

“That has nothing to do with me,” she cries.

“No?” I ask. “You’re saying you didn’t know? Everyone knows what they did to girls in the basement. But never to you. You had immunity. You could have changed things with that all-powerful blog you love to brag about. Instead, you ingratiated yourself to them, even behind your boyfriend’s back. You were their little lapdog every bit as much as you were the Darlings’ freshman year.”

“I wasn’t,” she cries, her gaze flying to Colt. “What could I do? I was just a gossip blogger.”

“Liar,” I snap. “You were their informant. And even if you couldn’t have stopped them from doing what they did to me, you didn’t have to use it against me. Not when you knew I wasn’t a willing participant any more than your cousin was.”

She gasps, looking for Quinn at her old table. Quinn, the cousin she ditched the moment she became queen, who now looks like she’s been slapped in the face with a truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. Before Dixie can make an excuse, Quinn jumps up from her table and shoves through the crowd, disappearing into the mass of bodies now spreading into the rows of tables as more students gather closer.

“How was I supposed to know anything about you?” Dixie snaps, turning back to me.

“Oh, but you know everything about everyone, don’t you?” I ask. “You work in the office. You access our records, dig into our financial situations, probably go through our sessions with the school psychologist. Right? You sure had all the ammunition you needed to take me down.”

“I didn’t,” she snaps, stamping her foot. “I just wanted people to give me a chance.”

“People always liked you,” I point out. “They always gave you a chance. You were on homecoming court every year. You’re popular. You have a hot, rich boyfriend. What exactly were you missing out on?”

“I wanted to win prom queen,” she shrieks.

“You probably would have,” I say. “I wasn’t even eligible this year. But you still reveled in my downfall. You crushed me. You might have everyone else eating out of your hand, but I’m not buying it. You’re not a victim. You just played the role to manipulate people to give you what you wanted, like any good narcissist. And you succeeded. You’re the victor. You won. You got everything you ever wanted. And you know why I never fought you for it? Why I never tried to get back on the throne? Because I never wanted any of it. Don’t you get that? I never chose that, never schemed for it, never prayed for it. Not for a single breath.”

“You wanted Colt,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” I say simply. “I did. And you know what I did about it? I broke up with him to protect him, because I knew the Dolces would kill him if they found out. I didn’t know you would be the one who got him killed instead.”

Dixie’s mouth falls open and then snaps shut. She swallows visibly, her eyes widening as they catch Colt’s expression.

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice so calm and flat it sends an icy shiver straight down my spine.

“Nothing,” Dixie cries. “She’s lying!”

“Go on, tell him,” I say. “Last time he broke up with you, you got him almost killed. Are you going to finish the job this time? If you can’t have him, no one can, right?”

“No, you can’t have him,” she seethes. “You get everything! Everyone! I just wanted one person who would love me.”

“Bullshit,” Colt growls. “If that’s all you wanted, you would have found him years ago, one of the hundred times I broke up with you. But you wanted someone you could control. Someone who couldn’t walk away because he had no other options.”

“That’s what she wants,” Dixie protests, poking a finger in my direction. “She’s painting me as the bad guy, so she’ll look better after all she did to ruin your life. You can’t believe her!”

“I can’t believe you,” he says flatly.

“After all this time, how can you doubt my intentions?” she wails, hiding her face in her hands. “How can you take someone else’s word against mine? You can’t really think I’m as bad as Gloria Walton.”

“No,” he says slowly. “You’re worse. She never pretended to be anything other than a self-serving bitch. Now give me back that fucking ring.”

There’s a gasp and a murmur around us as Colt holds out a hand.

“No,” she cries, clutching her hand protectively to her middle. “You’re not thinking straight. She’s a snake trying to poison what we have because it’s pure and real, and she’s jealous. She has nothing. But we have each other. We’ll always have each other.”

“No,” he says simply, his outstretched hand still hovering, waiting. “We won’t.”

“Colt,” she whimpers, her eyes filling with tears again. “You have to see her for what she is. She’s nothing, just a dirty liar, a pretty fake who’s seducing you and taking advantage of your injury because she knows you don’t know better. How can you not trust me after all I’ve done for you?”

“I don’t trust you because you’re a better match with Baron Dolce than me,” he says quietly. “You’re the only monster in this world who might be more self-centered and sociopathic than he is.”

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