Page 290 of Poor Little Rich Girl

“It’s not a win for Daphne,” George frowns. “I thought we were just going to, I don’t know, blackmail them. I’m not sure I’m happy giving up her dad to be slaughtered by Constantine Dio.”

I wrap my arms around George. “And that’s why you’re CSI: Emerald Beach and I’m the crime lord. Now let’s go home. Who needs last period when we’ve got to find outfits for this party.”

Eli

Claws and George disappear last period. Claws texts to say that they’ve gone home to find outfits for the alumni party. I’m not sure why George thinks she’s getting in, since she’s a scholarship student at Stonehurst Prep, but I don’t bother questioning it. I trust Claudia, especially after our talk. Especially if George is involved.

After school is indoor track practice. Noah’s given up the team, thank fuck, so I’m no longer spending all my time trying to coach him out of mediocrity, and I can focus on my own times. I’ve been so distracted this year that I’ve missed opportunities to be scouted by the Ivies, but my performance as team captain should give my college applications the boost they need.

For two hours I focus on nothing but my stride and my breathing. As I unlace my running shoes and joke with the other guys on the way to the showers, I can almost pretend I’m a normal teenager with boring concerns like getting into the right college, instead of worrying about my dad’s upcoming appeal and whether my girlfriend will be gunned down by her psychopath estranged twin sister.

But that all changes when I drop my gym bag into the passenger seat and pull the Porsche out of the school parking lot. My fingers tighten on the wheel as I drive the ten blocks to Vault and my other life as Eli Hart, tribune to the notorious Claudia August and assistant to an entertainment kingpin.

I don’t know what’s waiting for me beyond the gilded doors of the old bank building. Last time I was here, I tricked Nero into selling Claudia his entire collection of exotic animals. Another lucrative business line that’s been stripped from him. If he’s watching Malloy Manor, he has to know we have the animals, that the whole thing about the parasite was a ruse. As I wait at the last set of traffic lights, I touch my fingers to the gun strapped beneath my suit.

Am I driving to my death?

I park up in Vault’s underground parking and head up to the main bar. I’m relieved to see Livvie standing on a table in the VIP area, arms raised above her head as she directs her dancers through a new routine. She’s alive. That’s got to be a good sign.

Tension fizzes in the air, and I notice there is double the number of security wandering around the building. One of the girls misses a cue, and Livvie barks a reprimand with an unusual venom. We may still all have our heads, but something’s afoot in the land of Lucian.

“Nero’s not happy,” Livvie whispers to me as I grab drinks for us both and join her at the table. “He’s been on the warpath all week, so watch your back. I don’t think even the Golden Boy will be immune.”

My stomach drops into my shoes. “So he knows, then?”

“Nope. He forgot about those animals the minute we took them away. I told you he wouldn’t give a shit. He’s having trouble with the snooty British duke who—”

“—deals Grey Death?”

“How’d you know?” Livvie hisses. “That’s a big secret. Do not let on that you know. The duke’s connections are what makes the business so lucrative. Grey Death isn’t for the plebs; it’s not a street drug. That product goes straight to the most elite clients.”

I roll my eyes. “The duke is Gabriel’s father.”

“Your lover’s other lover? The bad boy musician one?” Livvie licks her lips. “How intriguing. So Claudia knows, then?”

I nod.

“Well, I wouldn’t let on about that if I were you. The duke is using the current instability in the Triumvirate as an excuse to drive up his prices. Nero has clients waiting on product, and without the profit from the skin deal, the duke is withholding his next shipment. He says he has another buyer who’s willing to make him a better deal.”

I bet that other buyer is Claudia.

I guess this is how things work in this world. The duke may not need Claudia and Gabe’s heir, but he’s not above taking her deal if it works out better for him. He’s hedging his bets in Emerald Beach, stringing both Nero and Claws along while he sees how this whole thing shakes out.

“If Nero loses Grey Death on top of the skin trade, it puts all his plans in jeopardy.” Livvie downs her Old Fashioned in one gulp and slams the glass on the table. “I hope your girl knows what she’s doing. A lion is at its most dangerous when backed into a corner.”

My head spinning, I leave Livvie to manage the dancers, and head upstairs to get some of the accounts done. I’m learning an awful lot about moving illegal money around different holding companies and offshore accounts, hiding Nero’s fortune from the Feds. It’s like a game, staying one step ahead of the authorities. I’ve been showing Noah some of the tricks so he can start squirreling away Claudia’s illicit profits. She doesn’t have much yet, nothing like Nero’s resources, but so much of his money is tied up in deals. He doesn’t have much available cash to settle with the likes of the duke—

“Eli.”

A familiar voice calls me from the bottom of the stairs. My chest soars at the musical sound. She brightens the entire space just by opening her mouth.

“Claudia?” I rush down to her, sweeping her into my arms. She’s wearing a short blue sundress, despite the cool weather. It matches her eyes, making those pools of blue appear even deeper and colder than usual. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had a meeting with Nero today.”

I can’t talk about what I know, not in the open like this where Nero’s security system will hear every word, but I try to convey with my eyes that she’s in danger, that I need to get her away from here.

“I don’t have business with Nero,” she smiles, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. Something about her smile is a little off, and I wonder if she already knows about Nero’s issues with the duke, if this is a calculated move. You’re supposed to talk to us about what’s happening. “I came to see you. I have something to ask you. Is there somewhere private where we can talk?”

“Um…” I can’t exactly take her down to the basement – someone will notice that on the cameras and report to Nero. It has to be somewhere they’d expect me to take my Imperator. I have an idea. I lead her up the secret elevator to the private rooms, and hold open the door to a plush suite. Claudia enters, her eyes widening as she takes in the BDSM gear scattered around the opulent bedroom.

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