Page 14 of The Rivals' Touch

Living here is going to be the death of me.

* * *

Legacy sneers at me at the breakfast table. I glower back, taking a bite of my toast.

Two can play this game.

“Did you sleep well?” Ariana smiles at me, reaching for a slice of watermelon.

Zayd smirks opposite me, where he sits next to the squealing all-nighter.

“I slept like a baby. The bed is wonderfully soft, thank you!” My smile can melt butter.

Ariana beams. “Oh, that makes me so pleased! I made sure my personal assistant ordered only the finest mattress and bedding with the perfect thread count.”

I brush off a dusting of breadcrumbs from my Iron Maiden t-shirt. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Legacy scoffs. “Who is this Iron Maiden anyway?”

Her tits are about to spill out of her low-cut, red top. Unlike her, I’m not comfortable drawing that kind of attention to myself; she revels in it.

I peek at my father, but he’s immersed in the newspaper. His charcoal suit looks brand new out of the packaging, and his white shirt belongs in an advertisement for laundry detergent. “They’re a rock band.”

She snorts and picks up a slice of pineapple. “You listen to rock?”

I grab a bagel and bite into it, talking around a mouthful. “I certainly don’t listen to whatever pop shit you listen to.”

My father clears his throat, making me stiffen. “Remi.”

I take another bite and look anywhere but at the smirking Zayd in front of me.

“Are you excited for your first day of school?”

I swallow the dry bagel. Ariana is watching me expectantly. I’m starting to think she might actually be nice, but if so, why the fuck would she marry my father? “I’m ecstatic about my first day of school!”

Dad lowers the newspaper in his hands and gives me a disapproving look that warns me I’m skating on thin ice with my snarky attitude.

Zayd hides his smile behind his hand as he scratches his jaw.

“Are you excited for the game today, son?” my father asks him.

Son. I roll my eyes.

Zayd’s smirk grows. He looks at my father and says, “I’m ready to win, sir. Legacy has promised to take good care of Remi. She’ll know the routine in no time.”

Satisfied with Zayd’s answer, my father nods. “I want her ready to perform next week.”

Zayd’s eyes clash with mine. He’s amused. “We’ll make sure she’s ready by then.”

I pretend I don’t care as I grab a croissant and wolf it down while Legacy watches me with disgust in her eyes.

“What?” I ask around a mouthful.

She leans into Zayd and drags her manicured nails down his tanned arm. “You eat like a starved orphan.”

I suck my fingers clean. “Unlike you who picks at your food like a mouse?”

I can feel my father’s disapproving eyes burning a hole in the side of my face, but she started it. Not me. Does he expect me to sit here and play nice while she insults me?

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