Page 3 of Forever Fake

In short, I’m fucked.

CHAPTER 2

Ginevra

“Ginevra,” Papa calls from his office on the main floor. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I roll my eyes at his brusk, annoyed tone and walk through his open door to, yet again, remind him that I’m going out tonight. I told him and Mama over dinner that I had plans this evening.

“I’m going to a party, remember? Blake Baron has opened up the Baron mansion for the first time in at least a decade. Everyone will be there.”

Papa sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wish you wouldn’t get too close to people like Mr. Baron. He’s a dangerous man.”

Don’t I know it. He completely destroyed our close friends, the Marino family, seven years ago. They disappeared without a trace, including my childhood best friend Viviana. Some people say they’re in witness protection, others know they’re most likely dead. When Blake Baron sets out to ruin someone, he does a thorough job.

“I’m not going to see Mr. Baron,” I explain. “Arianna did the planning for this event and she asked me to come.” In fact, Mr. Baron never thought to invite me at all. The only reason I’ll getthrough the front doors is because Arianna, after I begged and pleaded, put me on the guest list. But Papa doesn’t need to know the details.

“Your sister should watch herself too. If I had any say in the matter, I’d have forbidden her from working for Mr. Baron.”

Ducking my head, I hide my smirk. Luckily for all of us, Papa has very little say in any matter these days. We’re grown women, and my two older sisters are married. We can all do whatever the hell we want. Well, sort of. I’m still living at home, so Papa thinks he can rule my life.

When I don’t respond, Papa continues, “I forbid you from going.”

“It’s a little late for that.” I sweep my fingers down my shimmery blue evening gown, as if he hadn’t already noticed my attire. “I’m all dressed up and ready to go.”

“Go upstairs and go to bed, Gin.” He focuses on the papers in front of him.

My teeth clench. For my two older sisters, Papa will bend over backwards to accommodate them—which I know comes from a deep-seated sense of guilt. But he’s never treated me the same as them. Even though he’s wronged me worse than he ever did either of my sisters.

I cross my arms. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m almost twenty-one years old.”

“You live under my roof, which means you’ll do as I say.” He doesn’t even bother to look at me.

“Fat chance of that,” I mutter.

Papa’s sharp gaze snaps to mine. “What did you just say? I won’t put up with your attitude tonight, girl.”

He calls megirl, like I’m some street urchin instead of his own flesh and blood. The feeling’s mutual—I’d rather not be related to him either.

I flip my perfectly styled, wavy blond hair over my shoulder. “Good night, Papa.” I pin him with a winning smile and head out the door. When I’m in the hallway, instead of going upstairs to bed, I stroll to the front entrance and meet my waiting Lyft driver. Papa will throw a fit about my disobedience when he finds out, but I don’t care. I also don’t care about the consequences. Nothing he can do is worse than what he’s already done to me—years ago.

As soon as I’m settled in the backseat, my phone chimes. Expecting it to be Papa, security already alerting him that I’ve left the estate, I ignore it.

I really need to find a way to move out of my parents’ house. But I’m not super talented at anything like Arianna is at event planning. I’m also not college material like our oldest sister, Sophia, who’s getting her degree in Art History. I’m the dud of the family. What does a dud do with her life?

Sighing, I reach for my phone. Negative thoughts won’t get me anywhere good.

I am worthy.

I will figure out what I want.

I deserve a happy life.

All of these affirmations fall flat, but that doesn’t stop me from speaking them in my mind anytime I feel negativity threatening to swallow me whole. Someday I’ll believe that Iamworthy and happy. Until then, I’m all about faking it until I make it.

My phone chimes again, drawing my attention to the lit screen, and my breath seizes in my lungs. It’s not my father texting me, it’s worse… It's my ex-boyfriend. Oliver.

A shiver of disgust slithers across my skin.

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