Page 11 of Bad Little Bride

Once again, her face is blank, giving nothing away. I frown but when she only turns on her heel, heading down the hall, I sigh.

With one last glance, I look out the glass doors, but this time, the car is gone. A million questions run through my mind, the ones screaming the loudest beingwho the fuck is she and where the fuck did they go?but I give nothing away as I face the old woman once more.

I hold my head high as I follow behind, knowing without a word I’m being taken back to my room. I step inside withoutturning back, and even when the door closes behind me, a lock clicking softly after, I keep my spine straight.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m sitting in the plush chair in front of the north side window overlooking the front of the property, and I don’t move.

Sleep evades me.

And Enzo doesn’t return.

Chapter

Four

Boston

As I stepfrom the shower, I find my reflection in the mirror, sighing at the dark circles forming beneath my eyes. Across the room, the balcony mocks me, the large bay doors latched from the outside to keep me from enjoying the summer sun while it lasts.

The balcony may be completely bare, but I would happily sit on my ass if it meant I could at least listen to the sounds the outside world offers. Anything over the suffocating silence of this room.

Summer is almost over and I have no idea what comes next for me. I still have two years left of the scholar program at Greyson Elite, not that I really care about that. All I ever wanted to do was dance anyway and the only books I like are the ones with couples on the covers.

Another sigh leaves me, and I pull the comb from the drawer, slowly brushing through my hair from root to tip. Rather than blow-drying it, I part it down the middle, slicking it straight down to my scalp. Looking through the cabinets and drawers,I search for some hair glue or wax, but of course those items weren’t thought of when this room was prepared for me. I find nothing, so I squirt a small amount of conditioner into my palm and drag it along my part. It’s not perfect and it won’t hold with the slightest bit of wind, but the baby hairs are hidden and it’s not like I’m going anywhere anyway.

The knock comes at the same time as it did yesterday, but I don’t bother moving toward the door. The woman can come to me, and if she wants me to be polite, she can at least offer me her name. If she doesn’t, I’m going to start calling her Grandma. Bet that will do the trick.

Sure enough, it’s her who comes around the corner, pausing in the doorway. She waits for me to look her way, but I continue rubbing in the facial cream I found in the drawer into my cheeks.

“You have a vanity,” she deadpans.

“Yes. I do.” Leaning closer to the mirror, I run the pad of my middle finger over my brows. “Two in fact, one at my family home and one at Greyson Manor. Both full of my things.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken all of your things when you went home for your…visit.” She says visit as if it’s a two-syllable word, chastising me without directly calling me out for the lie it really was.

She assumes I would deny the truth, so I do the opposite. “Had I planned to come back here at all, I wouldn’t have.”

Her brows snap together so fast I could almost smile. “So you admit, you intended to run from your obligation?”

“Intended?” I face her fully now. “I did run, did I not?”

Her spine straightens then, gaze narrowing. She wants to say something else, but decides against it, instead looking back to the near empty countertop. “If you require something you need, only ask.”

That has me looking her way with a blonde brow raised.

The woman lifts her chin. “I can bring an iPad in, and we can order you whatever you wish.”

Scoffing, I shake my head and move past her. “Online shopping is not shopping. It’s a result of boredom and procrastination.”

“Then it should suit you well.” Our eyes meet once again. “Are you not bored?” she asks, not waiting for a reply. “Are you not procrastinating?”

“For what?”

“The inevitable.”

I glare but she’s done being chatty, already moving to the closet and coming back with another outfit I didn’t pick out but won’t admit I don’t hate.

When she pairs the silky wide-leg white pants and purple sleeveless bodysuit with a matching pair of purple pumps, she scowls my way, letting them hang from her fingertips a moment longer than necessary before setting them at the foot of the bed.

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