Page 13 of A Twisted Gift

One step at a time,I remind myself.

So I tuck my anger away. Adeline and I get drinks, and then, with all the enthusiasm I can muster, we mingle.

The hour drags. Sport, business, politics, family—it’s all gray and dull. I could easily work a conversation like this, weaseling closer into someone’s affections to make it easier to ask for a favor or a connection later on, but it’s all I can do to keep up. Thank fuck for Adeline. She plays her part well, laughing and adding in a sincere comment or her own anecdote here and there.

My only thoughts are of Rose, so when my watch reads 7:55, I excuse myself and make my way to the billiard room. A few others are on the same path, but most people stay where the party is, completely unaware of the sinister event that’s about to happen behind closed doors.

“Mister Hawthorne, a pleasure.” Charles grasps my hand as I step up to the threshold of the billiard room. “Congratulations on your new acquisition. A resort property in the mountains. Sounds profitable. And the deal you got Gibson to cut?” He lets out a low whistle. “You’re practically stealing the place.”

“What can I say?” I plaster on a charming smile. “My father taught me well.”

With a chuckle, Charles nods. “I’ve heard quite a bit about your old man. Would love to meet him someday. Hear he’s a bit of a homebody, though?”

“Has been for as long as I’ve known him. Terrifyingly smart, but practically a ghost. That’s his brand.” It’s one of the reasons he was able to get away with most people thinking I’m one of his own. Him and my aunt refuse to exist in the public eye.

“A strong one, I’ll give him that.” Charles claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you inside, son.”

My stomach lurches at his last word, but I don’t let it show. He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough.

In the billiard room, chairs are set up to face a small area near a second door. The place is filled with men from their twenties totheir eighties, and there are a couple women, too. The fact that they think they can just buy a girl like this makes me sick.

Taking a seat near the back, I sip the whiskey I grabbed on the way over. The smoky, spicy taste expands on my tongue, but it does little to distract me from the burn in my chest. Even though I have no intentions of purchasing her, I feel like a monster, making Rose go through this. But this is the only way.

I toyed with kidnapping her from her room, but I’m not confident that she could make the jump from the roof to the tree, and then the climb up and down the wall afterward—especially with increased security around the perimeter for the party. That means the only way in or out is through the front door.

No, I have to wait. Once the auction is over, everyone will return to the party, and so will I. Only after others start leaving will I grab her. That way, when Charles discovers her missing, he won’t know which of his guests to go after.

It’s painful, being this close to finally saving her but knowing that she could still slip through my fingers. I take another swig of whiskey, hoping to soothe the ache, but it still does nothing.

At eight o’clock exactly, Charles closes the door and turns to his audience. “Welcome, and thank you for coming. I’m sure you’re all eager to feast your eyes on my darkest, best-kept secret. Only immediate family and our most trusted staff are aware of her existence. She’s been kept here her entire life. Never even stepped foot outside the walls surrounding my home.”

There’s a sort of vindication that comes along with hearing him say the words. It swirls together with the deep hatred I’ve always harbored for the man. This is why Rose didn’t think she was real. Lies fed to her by her own father, solely so he could profit off her later.

“…completely innocent,” Charles is saying. “A virgin—never even been kissed. She’s the perfect Christmas gift to keep to yourself… or to share.”

“How will we know she’s actually yours?” a man calls out from the front.

Charles’s smirk has my throat tightening with repulsion. “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

With that, he opens the second door. No one enters the room, and only after he hisses out an angry command does Rose tentatively step over the threshold.

My mouth goes dry at the sight of her. Her brown hair is down and hanging in loose waves, covering her shoulders. The light pink nightgown she’s wearing barely covers her, dipping low to show off her breasts and hugging her thin frame.

“I present my youngest, Raina Montgomery. Only twenty years old and the picture of beauty.”

His words don’t even register in my mind. Rage fills me at the tears glistening in Rose’s eyes. Charles yanks her roughly into the center of the room, and seeing them side by side, I understand what he meant. There’s no denying that Rose is his child. She has his sharp blue eyes, and their nose shape is almost identical.

Rose’s bottom lip begins to tremble as her eyes dart around the room. There are probably two dozen people in here, all leering at her while her father shows her off like she’s a fucking animal. Her gaze skirts over me, just another face in the crowd.

It’s me,my mind calls out.Look at me, Rose.

“Turn around,” Charles commands, and when she goes stiff, he laughs, and some of the men join him.

They like this—love it. Her innocence, her fear.

It only makes me want to kill them all more.

When Rose doesn’t budge, Charles forces her to turn around. He pushes her hair to the front to expose her shoulders and back.

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