Page 18 of Room Seven

“I am not willing to put you in danger. You are too important. The answer is no.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “What danger? What makes me more valuable than Sapphire or Belle? Or even Polaris?”

For a second the tightno room for negotiationexpression that holds my cousin’s face in a perpetual scowl softens. Wait. I might actually have a chance here.

And then that hope dies a swift, bloody death.

He slashes a hand in the air between us, and that hard look on his face returns. Whatever had him second guessing his firm refusal is now gone.

“I’ve given you my ultimate decision.”

Brutal.

My heart turns to lead and drops to the floor like a spent bullet. Now what? I could be petty and interject that he’s only the head now because his daddy went to prison. It would be a low blow and I am not heartless.

I pick another line of attack. “Fuck you and all the men trying to hammer me into some place you think I should fit. You don’t want to consider me? Fine. You’re not my only option.”

Lies, laughs a manic voice in my head.

A smirk tugs at the older man’s face. “You’re going to need that chip on your shoulder. Guard it well, along with your fighting spirit. You’re gonna need that too, little cousin.”

My lungs cramp from the level of profanities I want to hurl at him. “Again, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Go home. Have some cake, blow out some candles and I will see you tomorrow.”

His blatant dismissal burns me to the soul. “The hell you will.” I give him the same fake smile I give every asshole in this place before turning on my heel and blowing out of this joint.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

I only wish I knew how prophetic my last words to him would be. And how right he was.

Four

Aster

Half an hour later, I walk into my family’s home to find twenty-three candles set into perfectly fluffed snow-white icing.

Acid rolls and swashes in my stomach. I hate birthdays with a passion.

I lean in and smell the sugary sweetness.

But I love cake.

I check behind me before I swipe a finger full of buttery cream from the base. A little thing I’ve done since I can remember. To a six-year-old, her life started and ended with cake. Or at least mine did. Now, it does nothing to ease the burn of hurt left on my heart by way too many ruined birthdays.

I sigh heavily. This family drains me of my sanity.

A little of the heat of my anger has faded on my drive to my parents’ mansion. I’m not angry now. A little nod toward that therapy bill.

What I am now is livid. What a catastrophic mistake to think Harlon would be open-minded enough to see me as an asset instead of a little girl wanting a seat at the big people’s table.

My godfathers didn’t think I could handle their kind of lifestyle, and now Harlon wants to hold me back.

Fuck him and everyone else.

My heart hurts to admit it, but I don’t know where I fit in here. I can’t be here anymore. Not and find what I am looking for. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but when do I get to be happy? Or will my life be forever tied to theirs?

I don’t have many answers. But I know I won’t find it in these glittery boxes filled with expensive gifts from my father’s minions. They are only looking to remain in his good grace. I lift a tag and sure enough, the family lawyer has done his duty to leave the boss’s daughter a present for her birthday.

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