Page 51 of Deadly Rival

Ophelia did as she was told and dressed in the clothes left for her, but there's something different about the way she’s sitting. Shoulders back, chin up. Not hiding herself.

She’s paired a silver miniskirt with a red satin bra and layered a sheer black top over it. The effect should be tacky, but it compliments her hair. Someone—I’m guessing Quinn—has done her makeup, and the bold eyeliner sets off her long fake lashes. A hint of red stains her full lips.

Christ, she looks incredible.

I catch Eve smirking at my reaction and put my jaw back where it should be. Ophelia flinches slightly as I give her a slow once-over but otherwise doesn’t react. I give her my brightest smile. “Good news, darling. That silly business with your family is all sorted out. You’re staying here with me.”

Her chest rises with a deep breath, but her voice comes out hard as she replies, “Bullshit.”

I make a show of looking around. “I don’t see anyone here to escort you home. My head isn’t in a box, making its way to your father.”

Another shuddering breath, and her gaze flicks between me and the door. Eve gets to her feet, face tense. A sliver of guilt edges under my skin. She’s a captive, too, for all that she’s head over heels for Gabriel. It can’t be easy for her to hear me taunting Ophelia. She flashes me a tight smile. “I’ll let Gabriel know it’s time to go.”

She heads toward my office, but Gabriel appears before she reaches the door. He slips his arm around Eve’s waist, and she leans into him, body relaxing at his touch. Ophelia watches them, brow creased.

“Did she behave? No toaster incidents?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes at the memory. “No. She’s much more sensible than Quinn, though that’s not exactly difficult. How did it go? You’re still alive, so I’m guessing well.”

“Of course. Just a few mutterings from some nervous old men. Kendrick put them in their place.”

“Good. I’m glad she’s staying. A better influence on Eve than Quinn, I think.”

Eve’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t respond. She can see the game we’re playing and isn’t going to ruin it. Gabriel will have hell to pay later, though, if the look in her eyes is anything to go by.

“Yes. In fact, now that everything is sorted out, I thought we could head out to dinner tonight. Jacob and Quinn are coming.” I turn to Ophelia. “You’ll enjoy La Table Royale. It puts three-star Michelin restaurants to shame.”

“Sounds good,” Gabriel says.

He’s lying, of course. Both my friends hate La Table Royale, the stuffy, upmarket restaurant that sits above the refectory. Even I find it a bit too formal and old-fashioned. It definitely caters to the older generation.

The main point, though, is that today is a Friday, and that means the place will be packed.

Twenty-One

Ophelia

Sebastian’s nonchalant act isn’tfooling me. Sure, I’m still here, and so is he, but there’s more to this than he’s letting on. I’ve always had a sixth sense for when I’m being played, and this little back-and-forth with Gabriel feels like a scam.

But…Iamstill here. The military guys haven’t thrown a hood on my head, bundled me into the back of a car, and dumped me on my dad’s doorstep. My optimistic hope that rescue will come without action on my part deflates like a two-week-old balloon.

I’m here, Sebastian is here, and Eve is about to leave.

I’d started to relax with the girls. Logically, I know they’re brainwashed, but they don’t seem like they are. Nothing they say is sparking my bullshitometer, and even Eve and Gabriel’s affection seems genuine. I know it has to be some toxic Stockholm syndrome, trauma-bonding crap, but no one has ever looked at me the way he looks at her. Sad but true.

Eve detaches from Gabriel and comes over. There’s an awkward moment, and I can almost read her thoughts on her anxious face.Well, time to get sexually assaulted by your captor. Have fun. See you at dinner.

She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll see you later.”

At leastshe doesn’t tell me everything will be fine. Gabriel raises a hand in farewell, then wraps it around Eve’s. They leave together, looking like a pair of happy newlyweds. It’s too strange, and all at once, I can’t stand to look at them. I turn away, staring out of the window as the door closes.

The trees stretch out, and I can’t help searching for the metallic slash of the fence. The girls assured me that part of Sebastian’s story is true, and I believe them. The trackers too. The time might come when I’m desperate enough to throw myself at an electric fence, but it hasn’t come yet.

A reflection on the glass warns me of Sebastian’s presence before his hand wraps around my waist. A casual touch, the way a boyfriend would stand with his girl. Not that I’ve ever experienced that sort of relaxed intimacy. The two guys I’ve been with only saw me as forbidden fruit. A crime lord’s daughter—the sex equivalent of bungee jumping off a skyscraper.

Sebastian grips my shoulders and gently turns me to face him. The smug, fake expression is gone, and he studies me more frankly than he has up to now. His skin is paler than it was yesterday, and dark smudges ring his eyes. Either he didn’t sleep well, or whatever happened this morning took a lot out of him.

He rubs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “This came out perfect. Do you like it?”

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