Plenty of times, but I couldn’t say that. I could never say that to anyone.
In her mind we were kids kicking our legs out under the tree house in the grounds of her mansion, talking about life and boys. Until we weren’t. Until we were talking about Constantine customs and business and trying to make our way in this crazy world.
I used to hold her tight when she got scared, even though I was festering with fear myself under the surface. I’d pick her up when she fell down and promise her it would always be fine.
I’d loved her, and she’d loved me. Until she didn’t know me anymore, not enough to love me for real. As me. As the real Elaine Constantine beneath the makeup.
Harriet would get married. One day, she would get married. Maybe it would be to someone nice, someone she was compatible with, but regardless, a girl like Harriet could be a happy one, whoever she was hooked up with. She would always see the best in everyone, even in some rich asshole my family forced her to be with.
I wished I could be living in that bubble-gum sweet cloud she was living in.
She was still gripping my shoulders. “Were you out with Tristan? Didn’t you say he had some guy he was interested in?”
It was a decent enough confession to keep her occupied, so I used it. “He is all caught up in this guy. A rocker. Blue Hawk.”
She tipped her head. “Don’t think I’ve heard of him.”
“You wouldn’t have,” I told her. “He’s small time. It was in the Meatpacking District.”
Her mouth dropped open, just a little. “You went to the Meatpacking District? With Tristan?”
“No big deal.”
She let out a sigh. “Without security? Your mom would go wild.”
“I was with Tristan.”
“Yeah, but Tristan isn’t going to be much use to your safety from people who really mean you harm, is he? Especially not while he’s chasing after some rocker dick.”
I shrugged, even in her grip. “Yeah, well I made it through alive, didn’t I?”
It seemed my confession wasn’t quite enough. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine. “Have you been hurting yourself again?”
I pulled away from her. “What the hell does that matter?”
She followed me as I walked away. “It always matters to me how you’re treating yourself. If you won’t let yourself love yourself, then how are you ever supposed to be happy?”
“I should get therapy, right?”
She was more forceful than usual as she squeezed my arm again. “You should do something, Elaine. Talk to someone. Why won’t you please just let it be me? Please?”
Her eyes were pleading. Genuine. At odds with the fake surroundings.
“Please, Lainey,” she went on. “Please, will you just let it be me? I would never tell anyone…”
I believed her. So far in my life she hadn’t betrayed me to anyone. If only I’d have spilled my truths to her in the early days, maybe she’d have given me the strength to act on them. Maybe she’d have held me just as tightly as I’d held her. No point reflecting on that now.
I looked at her again. I looked at the way she was looking at me and knew I should do it. I knew I should speak to her, at least about some of it.
“You swear on it, Harriet. For real? Keep your damn mouth shut, no matter what?”
Little miss lovely showed her face again. She held her hand to her heart, like some Girl Guide promise. “I swear on it. Harriet Roosevelt’s honor.”
Seriously, I loved how she was still such an innocent little doll, even behind her super styled beauty highlights.
I waited until we were out of sight of the Regents Country Club building before I even dared to sit myself down on the grass. A double confession would be dangerous. Spilling my Lucian Morelli truths to Harriet as well as Tristan would only make them more real. My heart was thumping as I cleared my throat to talk, and it wasn’t just from the disgust at my own confession.
It was from the disgust at just how much I wanted it to happen all over again.
I wanted Lucian Morelli.
I wanted his touch, and his hurt, and his hate.
It was weird. Hardly believable, because I wanted something I hadn’t wanted since I was a little girl wishing on a fairy tale life ahead, with a noble prince on a noble steed charging into my world to claim me.
This wasn’t a noble prince on a noble steed, he was an evil beast, charging into my world to destroy me, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not to me.
I couldn’t want it. But I did. I wanted it with every little tingle in my veins.
I wanted Lucian Morelli to fall in love with me.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucian
Monday was usually one of my favorite days of the week. I was in my usual role, in my usual empire, lording it over every lowly person at my feet.
I loved the ruthlessness of corporate business, takeovers and pursuit of official worldwide presence, laying so powerfully over our underworld presence below. But I didn’t love it today. The thrill was lost to me, underneath that same damn itch for some other pleasure.
Jesus Christ, that damn itch could get the fuck away from me.
Trenton Alto had been pushing for a meeting, eager to catch up with me. I’d satisfied him with nothing more than a grunt of approval over the phone when he’d called.
I was in meetings all through the afternoon, playing the role of good little almost-CEO. Putting on a good face for the board as if any of this mattered. I was the one making our numbers skyrocket. And I would have my goddamn promotion, soon enough.
It was late into the evening when I finally gave in to the inevitable temptation and called up Elaine’s calendar for the week ahead. She’d refreshed it, with a listing of Harriet in front of almost every activity that week. There was another ridiculously glossy charity gig on Wednesday for some low paid workers education fundraiser, and some Roosevelt social dinner on Thursday. Friday had a stylist’s appointment with some overpriced Hemmings designer shop.
Then Saturday was simple. Simple but vague.
Tristan.
I had plenty of social events of my own to be attending. We had a Morellis casino night scheduled for Thursday. Me, Carter, Elliot, and Kit. I had a bullshit meal arranged with Elliot and his university friends, showing my face with fake handshakes as though I gave two shits for his social circle, and I had an evening with my parents on Saturday.
I didn’t want to do any of them.
Elliot sent me a text as I finally left the office that night. A simple text, news? Nothing more.
I knew exactly what he was referring to.
My response was a one-worder. None.
His reply was instant. Thank fuck for that.
I opted for some sensibility at least, and went straight from Morelli Holdings to another of my business places. One I should’ve been attending more often, in an attempt to quell some of my spiking base level urges.
Clark wasn’t around when I stepped into the bar at Violent Delights, but I didn’t head through to the back office to track him down. I went straight to a table overlooking the main stage and clicked my fingers for service.
The woman on serving duties didn’t need to ask what I was drinking. She presented my mineral water on a tray, bending down low enough that I caught sight of her cleavage in her lacy little bra. I could bend her over the table and fuck her right now. She wouldn’t fight me. No, she’d enjoy herself.