6. Hell, Oh Sweet Hell

I stood back with a smirk as I watched the last bubbles fizzle out in the lake behind my dad’s mansion. I was breathing heavily. It took great effort to jump from the moving Stingray as it drove straight into the lake–with me crashing into solid dirt and stones in the process–but it was worth the pain.

Every single cut and nick of it.

And, as an added bonus–the beauty of this lake was that it wasn’t deep enough for the Stingray to disappear completely. You could still see the top of the car as you walked by. But, it was deep enough to make it impossible to retrieve it with ease.

Deep enough to make a shithead like Jace’s life difficult.

Also, no doubt dirty enough to do a bit of damage to the perfect, shiny coat covering it.

With a satisfactory smirk, I dusted my hands at the thighs of my jeans and rounded the large property toward the front gate. It took quite a bit more walking than I was up for, but it was a tiny price I had to pay for destroying my lift.

I had no doubt that Jace would come looking for his Stingray. I would tip off the staff of its whereabouts if a certain someone comes searching–while banning him from the mansion altogether.

With all the security cameras around the property, your best bet I’d get to witness the moment he discovered it and had a meltdown over it.

He was totally the jock type. Bet he had meltdowns to match too.

Sticks and grass cracked beneath my shoes as I rounded the corner, noticing a flashy black car parked inside the grounds near the gate. I didn’t recognize the model or the vehicle, as Dad only got around in his limos. If anyone came for visits, he never allowed them to park on the ground for safety reasons. What those reasons were, I have yet to find out.

It also couldn’t belong to the staff either, as there was no way they would afford something like this.

Then… “Oh, great. Another one.”

It left me with one conclusion; Dad had another girlfriend. Or fiance, at the rate he went through them. Heck, he might be married at this point. They were the only ones besides the residents of this place allowed to park inside.

With a dismissive sigh, I stabbed a finger at the intercom button. Not a second later, our butler–a short, scrawny and balding man called Harris–greeted me through the intercom. “Miss Cartwright, what a beautiful sight for sore eyes!”

The gate immediately rolled open, and I directed a genuine smile toward the camera facing the gate, waving. “I missed you, Harris!”

Which wasn’t a lie. He was like the grandpa I never knew and more of a father figure to me than my actual dad.

“I’ll have a bowl of skittles ready with a side of coke, yes?” he replied confidently.

“You know me,” I grinned, walking through the entrance. “But I’m afraid I’ll need something strong to drink today.”

A pause followed. Then, in a low voice, Harris replied, “You’re going to need a few bottles of tequila, Miss, if you know what awaits you.”

I paused, facing the gate as it was already closing again. “What do you mean?”

My thoughts shot toward the ‘new girlfriend’ conclusion. “Let me guess, he’s getting married? Or is he married and already filing for a divorce because of the new mistress?”

A click sounded as Harris hung up on me. Harris never hung up on me. Unless Dad was nearby with prying ears.

“Fuck my life,” I murmured, stalking toward the front door. I barely reached the steps when a woman dressed in a skimpy maid outfit stepped out. Naturally, she was around my age and had a bust the size of a giant watermelon.

That was how Dad liked them.

I felt sorry for them because they needed a job and had to clean while an old man leered at them.

“Miss Cartwright, welcome home!” she flashed a toothy smile and held out a small, wrapped gift to me. “Your father couldn’t be here to welcome you himself–on a business trip…But he wants you to have this instead.”

“Oh.” My lips turned down as I peered at the silver wrapping coating the present, then lifted my gaze to meet hers before I took it, forcing a smile. “Hi. I prefer to be called Elise.”

“Elise, of course.” She nodded eagerly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As I tore the wrapping apart, I asked, “What’s your name?”

Her eyes shot wide as if I had just asked something scandalous. Which was kind of true amongst the rich. As far as they were concerned, the staff was nothing but nameless ghosts to them.

But I wasn’t them. “You won’t get in trouble. My dad–your boss–knows I prefer to know the staff.”

She offered a smile, but it seemed uncertain. “E-Elizabeth.”

I peered at her. “Do you really go by that or Liz? Lizzie?”

Her smile grew softer, more genuine. “Beth.”

I grinned. “Beth. It’s nice to meet you too. And thank you for this.” I held up the gift before pulling off the lid.

Beth took the crumpled wrapping paper from me and waited as I peered into the small box with a note inside.

The smile on my face was replaced with a frown as I pulled it out and read it aloud. “Welcome home. We will talk when I get back. Stay out of trouble.”

Beth’s smile evaporated. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I should have known.” I handed her the empty box. “Thank you, anyway.”

She offered a final smile and rushed toward the front door, and held it open for me.

I thanked her again as I walked through the threshold. Harris half-ran toward me, pulling me into a hug when I entered the foyer.

“Ah, Miss Cartwright.”

“Stop calling me that.” I smiled and hugged him back, regardless. He’s been our butler since I was in diapers, and despite my protests, I knew I wouldn’t change any of his habits regarding name-calling. I still tried, though.

When Harris stepped back, he peered up at me with a wide smile. “Your breakfast and snacks are waiting for you in the kitchen, Miss. Will have it sent out once you’re settled.”

“Thank you, Harris.” I peered across the foyer. “So, where is this woman?”

Harris stiffened, and Beth suddenly spun around and ran out of the room.

I blinked. “Harris?”

“No woman, Miss.”

“Then what is going on?” I asked, my heart beating fast. “Is some of the gang here to chew me out?”

“No, Miss.”

“Harris?” I gritted.

“Miss, I feel you should see for yourself,” he replied uncomfortably. “I’d sworn loyalty to your father when I signed up for this job, but I…” his voice trailed. He swallowed, speaking in a low tone. “You should watch yourself, Miss. Never trust one who runs outside a pack.”

My eyes bulged. “A rogue? What does a rogue wolf have to…”

Harris nodded in the direction of the dining room. “Go have breakfast, Miss. But don’t eat anything from the table…You know, it might be spiked. The staff will bring you your own food.”

Harris left me, staring with a confused expression after him. He didn’t comment on the scratches on my arms or the state of my hair. Of course, he wouldn’t, as it was normal for me to look like this. But if there was anyone important in the dining room who might wish me ill–or someone from the gang–I’d best clean up first.

It took me five minutes to dress in new jeans, pull on a clean white-lace top and fix my hair. I couldn’t do much about the scratches, so I headed straight for the dining room and got it over with.

My posture stiffened when I entered, and it felt like the air inside my lungs got choked out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hunter glanced up from a piece of bacon he held in one hand as he sat by the table, his expression unchanging. But he wasn’t the one who replied.

“Oh look, the princess decided to grace us with her presence.”

My eyes shot toward the voice on the other side of the table, where a potted plant stood, blocking the view. But I didn’t need to see him to know who it was.

It was the Savage, aka freaking Darius Monroe.