Page 36 of Unholy Nights

"I can't get the buttons," I manage to say, and the words are barely out before he's turning me around, his hands working down my spine. His fingers graze my skin with each one, and the blush spreads up to my face.

"My mother's waiting," I whisper, but I don't move away.

"I know." He finishes with the buttons but doesn't step back. Instead, his hands slide down to my hips, holding me steady. "Remember what I said last night. Let me handle everything."

I turn in his arms, looking up at him. "How can you be so calm about this?"

A dark smile curves his lips. “Oh, I’m far from calm, little one. Trust me. But we can’t afford to let your mother know anything. She can never suspect, not until it's too late. Do you understand?”

I nod, even though I don’t. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t understand how he can act like nothing happened, like he didn't have his hands all over my body last night, like he didn't have his tongue in my mouth and his fingers between my legs. I don't understand how he can be so calm and controlled when I'm a mess of emotions. "Yes. I'll be careful."

"You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for," he says, stroking a finger down my cheek. Then his gaze drops to my lips, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. My heart pounds in anticipation, my breath catching in my throat. But then he stepsaway, and I have to press a hand to my stomach to quiet the butterflies.

"Now go," he says, stroking a thumb across my bottom lip. "Don't keep her waiting. I'll be close by."

The walk to my mother's office feels like marching to my execution. Each step on the marble floor echoes like a countdown, and by the time I reach her door, my hands are trembling so badly I have to clench them into fists.

I knock softly.

"Come in."

My mother sits behind her massive desk like a queen on her throne, perfect as always in a tailored white suit and pearls. Her makeup is flawless, her hair pulled back in a neat chignon, and she looks like she could step onto the cover ofLivingDelacroixmagazine without needing a single airbrush.

"Sit down," she says, not looking up from her tablet.

I perch on the edge of one of her uncomfortable visitor chairs, crossing my ankles like she taught me and folding my hands in my lap.

"Do you know why I asked you here?" She finally looks up, fixing me with that arctic stare that always makes me feel about two inches tall.

"No, Mother."

She sets her tablet aside and leans back in her chair, studying me with narrowed eyes. "I'm concerned about you, Emerald."

"Concerned?"

"Yes. Your behavior lately has been... disappointing."

"Disappointing? How?" The word slips out before I can stop it, and I brace for her displeasure.

She leans forward slightly. "Those hideous jeans you wore yesterday for one. Your arguments about working with Emmitt for another. You've always been a compliant child, but lately,you've been pushing boundaries. And I can't have that, especially not with the Christmas party coming up."

I swallow hard. "I—"

"Don't interrupt," she snaps. "These changes coincide rather perfectly with Cohen's increased interest in your activities."

My blood runs cold. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Her classic French manicured nails tap against her desk. "Men like Cohen are drawn to weakness, Emerald. To naive little girls who they think need saving." Her lips curl into a cruel smile. "Do you really think he cares about you? Do you really think he'd risk his position here for a silly little girl? Please. Don't be stupid."

I try to speak, but my throat is tight. I can only shake my head, a silent plea.

"He's using you, darling. I would have expected you to recognize that. I raised you to be smarter, but apparently, I was wrong. Apparently, you're as foolish and gullible as every other girl your age."

Each word hits like a physical blow, finding all my deepest insecurities and twisting them like knives. "That's not—"

"You have no skills, Emerald. No education beyond what I've allowed. No money of your own." She stands, moving around her desk to tower over me. "Everything you are, everything you have, comes from me. And if you continue down this path of rebellion, I will take it all away. Do you understand?"

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "Yes, Mother."

---