“What about?” I ask carefully.
She shrugs. “You. And Whit. And how they don’t want you here, ruining everything.”
“What exactly am I ruining?” I ask, my voice faint. I’ve been waiting for this moment, but as time went on and we got deeper into the week, I figured I’d dodged it. Their disapproval.
Silly me. I was wrong.
“Whit’s plans. His life. You’re not supposed to be a part of it,” Sylvie says, as if it’s as simple as that.
But life isn’t simple. She of all people should realize this.
“Aren’t you tired of having your parents telling you what to do? They control your every move. You’re sixteen, Sylvie. Don’t you plan on leaving the nest? Going to college? Or does your mother have a say in your future plans too?” I ask, my tone snotty.
Sylvie’s eyes narrow as she contemplates me, and this is the moment where I realize I made a mistake.
I took it too far.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, or what it’s like, being a part of this family. One of the most important families in this country, if not the world. Our place in society is firmly rooted, and we can’t afford to let it be ruined by some stupid, whorish girl who’s set her sights on us. You’re just on the fringe. Always on the outskirts, the sad little girl staring longingly in the window.” Sylvie sneers. “Just like your mother, I hear.”
I gape at her. “Sylvie…”
“Stop.” She holds up a hand. “You don’t care about me. I don’t think you ever really did.”
“That’s not true. You were the only one kind enough to reach out to me at Lancaster,” I remind her. “No one else wanted to be my friend. Whit convinced everyone—”
“Right. He had everyone hating you, while I was thinking of how I could become your friend just to piss him off.” Her smile is cruel, and I feel like it’s a lie. She truly wanted to be my friend, right? I watch as she grabs her cup and takes another dainty sip. “I think it’s best if you go back to campus a little early. Say…first thing tomorrow morning?”
“Why?” I ask incredulously, wishing Whit were here. With us. He’d defend me, right? Tell Sylvie to stop being such a bitch?
Would he?
Sylvie slams her cup onto the nearby table and leans forward in her chair, her narrowed gaze aimed at me. “Listen. You just used me to get to spend a week alone with Whit. So you can fuck him into thinking you’re the perfect woman for him. I always thought Whit was smarter than that, but clearly you have a magical vagina because it’s all he can think about. And now, somehow you’ve convinced him to go against everything our family stands for.”
My mouth pops open, ready to defend myself, but she keeps talking.
“Mother hates you. Calls you the daughter of the slut who broke our family apart, and when she says it like that, when I see what you’re doing with Whit. To Whit. To all of us…” She clamps her lips together, studying me with complete disdain. “I have to agree with her.”
I rise to my feet on shaky legs, praying I don’t collapse. “Sylvie. Please. You’re my only friend. I swear I didn’t use you to get closer to Whit.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she says, her voice filled with disgust. She averts her head, staring out the window. “They’re plotting how to get rid of you right now, I hope you know. Mother doesn’t want to see you at the table for dinner. A meal where we’re supposed to discuss what we’re thankful for. She forbids it.”
Forbids it. I suppose I have to agree with her demands, since this is her house.
“You really didn’t believe the two of you could be in an actual relationship, did you?” Sylvie faces me once more, her gaze searching. “Oh, look at you. You did. You probably believe him fucking you constantly is a sign of—love.”
Tears threaten and I will them from my eyes. I can’t do this. I can’t cry. I can’t.
I won’t.
“It’s not,” she says flatly. “He’s done this before. You’re not the first. And you certainly won’t be the last.”
We stare at each other, Sylvie’s expression oh so cold.
“You know who you remind me of right now?” I ask her, my tone deceptively soft.
Sylvie raises her brows. “Who?”
“Your bitch of a mother. You’re exactly like her, Sylvie.” I turn on my heel and leave the room, hurrying blindly down the corridor, tears blurring my vision. I don’t know why Sylvie had to be so cold. Her words cut like a knife, destroying me.
Was it all a façade? Her friendship, my relationship with Whit. Was it all fake?
It had to be.
I see the staircase that leads to the guest wing and I hurry toward it, running up the stairs, about to turn toward my bedroom when I hear a voice call out.
“Summer. I’d like to speak with you. Do you have a moment?”
Ice-cold dread slides down my spine and I turn to find Sylvia Lancaster standing in front of me, impeccable in wide leg black trousers and a soft cream-colored sweater with a glittery flowered broach pinned to her right shoulder. A Chanel piece, I’m sure. Her blonde hair is sleek and smooth, tucked behind both ears and her lips are coated in red.
The color of blood.
“I was just going to my room—” I start, pausing when she smiles.
It’s not friendly. Not at all.
“I’ll only take a few minutes of your time. I promise. Please.” She inclines her head. “Would you care to see my salon?”
I’ve seen it. Whit sprawled me out across the massive desk only yesterday, pulling down my panties with eager fingers, pressing my thighs apart and licking me until I came with a sigh. A moan.
“Yes. Please,” I say with a weary smile. Only I would say please to the woman who’s probably going to destroy me with a few choice words right now. Sylvie already did her damage. I’m barely holding it together as it is.
Sylvia leads me toward the double doors of her salon, swinging one open and striding inside. I follow after her, noting that she doesn’t bother closing the door. Giving us no privacy.
I guess she doesn’t care who hears what she’s about to say.
“Please. Sit.” She indicates a delicately wrought chair and I settle in, watching as she stands behind her desk, that pleasant smile still on her face. “Have you enjoyed your time here this week?”
“I have,” I say with a nod, unsure of where she’s going with this.
“Wonderful. I’m sure the tour Whit has taken you on has been most satisfying.” Her smile never falters.
“He’s shown me some of the estate, yes.”
“I’m meaning the special little tour. The one where he fucks you everywhere he can, no?” Her thin eyebrows rise as she points at the top of her desk. “Including here? What did he do to you yesterday, hmm? Fuck you? Go down on you? Or perhaps you sucked his cock.”
Horror rises, stealing my breath. I gape at her, unable to answer.
“You think no one sees what you’re doing? There are people all over this house, and the majority of them work for me. You don’t think they don’t tell me what’s going on? What they see? Hear? Smell? We’re not blind, Summer. We see you. It’s quite obvious, what you’re doing,” Sylvia says.