Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Okay, well, if you ever want to leave—” I hear my DB 11 purr as it stops in front of us. “We can leave. Any time.” I don’t know Poppy’s story, so it’s hard to gauge whether I’m doing the right thing. She has to be around our age, with her brother a little older, so I’m guessing she’s old enough to make those decisions on her own.
Betty pulls the door open and leans the chair forward. “Slide in, pretty girl.”
Poppy slips to the back and I look over my shoulder until my eyes collide with a black Rolls Royce that’s coming up the drive. It’s not Papa’s Rolls that’s a distraction, though. It’s the car behind his.
My smile falls and I quickly slide into the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed and driving us down the long driveway.
“You okay? Was that Mikhail?”
My heart stammers in my chest as I suck in deep breaths. “Yes.”
Betty’s hand rests on mine without a word spoken. It’s why Betty and I have always worked. She knows when to speak and when to not. Friendships can be tricky because so many people don’t know how to respect those boundaries, so I’m lucky I have Betty who does.
Tapping the accelerator down faster as we move onto the main road off our gated home, I bring my eyes to the rearview mirror. “So, Poppy, whereabouts are you from?”
Poppy’s eyes glass over as her mouth curves in a way that isn’t enough to call a smile. “Detroit.”
“And Papa brought you guys here? What the hell was he doing in Detroit?” The end was more to myself, but Poppy answers anyway.
“He showed up after my parents were—dead.”
Betty’s hand squeezes mine and I almost forgot she was still holding it.
“Oh,” I murmur, driving us farther out of the city and toward the party. Death isn’t something that surprises me and Betty knows that. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be…” she whispers. “I mean, my mom was great, but my father….” She shakes her head and my throat swells. A wave of protectiveness washes over me, and now all I want to do is turn the car around and drive us home. “Anyway, I don’t want to kill our night. I really do just want to forget.”
“Then I can help with that.”
“We both can…” Betty adds gently.
Howard Jake’s house is a farmhouse mansion that sprawls out over acres of land. The barn-style rooftops and glass walls showcase the expertise of the architecture. It’s the subject I want to study if I’m ever fortunate enough to actually go to college, but we all know that just isn’t in my cards.
Music plays loudly and bodies of drunk teens spread out over the wraparound porch at the front. Everyone stops to stare at my car rolling down the driveway. It’s not that no one at my school has money, they all do, but I think over time people become fascinated with who I am because I keep to myself. Betty calls it obsession, but I prefer fascination. The same way humans are with animals. That’s what it feels like sometimes, as if I were performing tricks in front of a crowd at a circus.
I cut the car and unzip my long coat, leaving it in the back seat and sweeping up my phone. “Selfie before we enter…”
Poppy leans forward from the back and Betty licks the side of my cheek as I beam a bright smile into the lens. My sharp jaw is prominent, so much so Betty says it reminds her of Angelina Jolie, and my eyebrows are thick and perfectly plucked. My skin constantly has a natural glow to it and my eyes tonight look more green than hazel, thanks to the darker dress. My teeth are white and straight, and I have one simple dimple on the side of my cheek that looks unnatural. My hair remains with a natural wave, and my body is tight and curvy, thanks to my gym schedule.
From what everyone can see… it’s perfection.
I do wonder what they would think of me if they saw the parts that aren’t.
Pushing open the door, I let Poppy out and toss the keys at Oscar who leans against his car that’s parked behind mine.
“You have a bodyguard?” Poppy laughs nervously. “What kind of cop is your dad?”
“Oh, he’s no cop.” Betty chuckles, and I know she won’t say any more than that, but I want to. Poppy shared something with me, so now I want to share something with her.
I take a deep breath. “Papa is the Boss of the Sicilian mafia, Chicago outfit.” I watch for any flinch as her face grows more visible the closer we get to the house.
She blinks slowly. “Okay. I should have guessed that.”
“I don’t know what he saw in Wicked or why he was there though.” I smile at her weakly. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that.” And I am, regardless of whether I want to or not.