Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Teddy picks up the phone. “Let’s start with your camera roll.” She turns it toward Sasha, the Face ID unlocking it.
“How many unflattering photos do you think we’ll find?” I ask Teddy.
“Don’t you dare—”
Teddy is already scrolling. “Oh my God. Is this a selfie at a funeral?”
“Work event,” Sasha spits.
“And this one? Does your mother know about these?” My eyes burn when I see the picture. It has a million others like it, like she couldn’t get the picture just right of her vagina.
“That’s—”
“Oh no.” Teddy’s voice drops to a whisper. “Sasha. Your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. She’s so pretty. And you still follow her?”
“Give me that!” Sasha lunges, chair scraping, and I shove her back with one hand. Teddy is already giddy, sending a message to the ex and the girlfriend, pretending to be Sasha.
“You should start talking,” I say, picking up the scissors.
Sasha’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t—”
I grab a handful of her perfect, glossy hair and cut it. Just a chunk, right at the front, jagged and ugly, and bangs can’t even save it. She screams, high and outraged, and I drop the hair in her lap like an offering.
“That’s for calling Tristan ‘family,’” I say. “When you were selling him out.”
Teddy has found her banking app. “Should I send her savings to a cat rescue?”
“Yes.” I snap my fingers at the brilliant idea.
“No!” Sasha thrashes. “Stop! I’ll tell you everything! Just stop sending texts to my mother!”
Teddy pauses, thumb hovering over the screen. “Too late. I told her you’re pregnant.”
“You WHAT?”
“With triplets. By a Mr. Banks, the old man you’re banging. I texted him too with the news. You know your mom hates him? She’s losing her mind.” The phone is vibrating like crazy with responses. “I used your exact texting style, which is, no offense, very formal and repressed.” I snort a laugh because that is how she talks when other people are around and she’s got her mask in place.
I pick up the feather duster, examining it. “Roland said something about a doctor. Is that you, Teddy?”
“Obviously.” Teddy cracks her knuckles. “Doctor of chaos.” I bite the inside of my cheek because that’s a terribly cheesy name but kind of fitting for the Teddy Bear. “Now, Sasha. Let’s talk about every message you’ve sent to the queen’s people. Every location you gave them. Every time you made my best friend feel unsafe in her own home.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Teddy sound so serious.
Sasha is crying now, ugly, her mascara running down her face. Teddy snaps a pic. “I just wanted her gone,” she sobs. “I wanted things back to normal. He’s supposed to be with someone who understands him, not some—”
“Some what?” My voice is quiet. I shouldn’t even have asked because nothing she thinks or says about me matters.
“Some silly young adult who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
I lean in close, close enough to smell her expensive perfume. “Oh, Sasha, I know exactly what I’m doing. And you’re going to tell us everything, or I’m going to let Teddy post your browser history to LinkedIn.”
“Wait.” Teddy leans forward. “There’s still LinkedIn?” I shrug. “I’ll find it and post it everywhere else too.”
Sasha breaks. Names, dates, drop points, coded messages. It pours out of her, desperate and damning, while Teddy types it all into her phone and Roland brings us lemonade like this is a garden party.
We’re still there, still extracting every secret, when the security alarm blares through the estate.
Tristan’s voice comes over the intercom, calm but still terrifying: “Lily and Teddy, get to the vault. Now.”
Teddy and I look at each other as Roland appears once again.
“The queen has arrived.”
“Guessing you don’t mean fun drag queens,” Teddy mutters disappointedly.
I’m not. I’ve got a head to collect. I glance back to Sasha. Maybe two of them.
Chapter Thirty-One
TRISTAN
The encryption breaks at 2:47 a.m.
I’ve been staring at the pattern for hours, watching the queen’s people rotate through proxy servers, burning through phone numbers, and thinking they’re invisible. They’re not. There is always a trail. I trace the final handshake and watch the location data resolve, and my stomach goes cold.
When Julian said she’d disappeared and they couldn’t find her, I already had the sense she was heading this way. It’s a stupid plan. There is nothing better than being on one’s home turf.
The thing is she’s not planning to come. She’s already here and not far away. I am irritated with myself that I wasn’t able to crack it sooner. I reach for my phone to call the head of security, Paul, so he can prepare. He should be ready, but I want to make sure everyone is on full alert.
I need to trigger a lockdown and get Lily into the vault.
I grab my phone off my desk to call security and trigger the lockdown. Lily needs to get her little ass to the vault before—