Bully King - J.A. Huss Page 0,25

extends his hand to take hers, then kisses her knuckles.

I don’t really care that he does this with the girls I bring home because I don’t really care about the girls I bring home. But with Isabella—and Cadee—it’s fucking disgusting.

My father’s chair is at the head of the table and Cadee Hunter is sitting in the guest-of-honor spot to his right. When I glance at her she’s squinting her eyes at Isabella. Then they shoot to me and she scowls.

“Come,” my father tells Isabella as he pulls out a chair directly across from Cadee. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you, Chairman,” Isabella coos up at him. She’s learned to play the game these past three years and she’s suddenly using every lesson she ever learned about how to get by, on my father.

“Have a seat, Cooper. The servers are waiting on you.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and instead glance at Cadee one more time as I take the seat next to Isabella. It’s just the four of us at the huge table that seats twelve.

I glance at Cadee again. Because she’s changed her clothes since I last saw her and is now wearing a low-cut light blue dress that announces to everyone who cares to look that she is not wearing a bra. “What the fuck?” I mutter.

But no one hears me. My father is asking Isabella what she’s been up to.

Cadee notices me noticing her and nervously clasps the silky thin fabric between her breasts together, like she’s self-conscious. Then she glances around, trying not to look at me. Trying to look at everything but me.

I slouch in my chair as we’re served a light soup as the first course.

Cadee has no idea which spoon to use, because she stares at them for like twenty seconds before Isabella says, “It’s that one, honey,” as she points to the soup spoon next to the knife. “Go ahead. Pick it up. Eat, sweetie. You’re going to need your nourishment. I hear you’re going to be working for me this summer. Is the rumor true, Chairman? Is Cadee Hunter our servling for this summer’s rush?”

“Absolutely.” My father beams. “She’s going to be a wonderful addition to the rush camp. And at the end of the summer, she will be offered a full scholarship to High Court College.”

Isabella places a hand over her heart. “My. What a generous offer!” Then she looks at Cadee, who is now visibly frowning. Probably wondering about that word. Servling.

Yes, honey. It means exactly what it sounds like.

I can practically read her thoughts. Will I be serving cookies and tea to the Swans? Or be down on my knees in front of King Cooper’s big fat cock?

I laugh out loud and everyone turns to look at me. “Sorry,” I mumble, then kick my long legs out under the table. But then my foot unexpectedly hits something on the other side. Cadee coughs and squirms in her chair, trying not to look at me as my father and Isabella discuss her role in the rush like we’re not even here.

Well, that’s fun. I slip my shoe off, angle my chair a little so Isabella thinks I’m trying to get close to her, and then rub my foot up and down Cadee’s leg.

“Oh!” she exclaims, jumping in her chair, then blushes profusely. Jesus Christ. She is so easy to startle. I pull my foot back as the conversation between my father and Isabella halts at her outburst.

“What’s that, sweetie?” Isabella asks Cadee. “Did you say something?”

Cadee shakes her head self-consciously. “No. Sorry. This soup is…” She looks down at the bowl of cold green sludge and hesitates. “Delightful. That’s all.”

“You haven’t eaten any yet,” I say, smirking at her. Hey, if this bitch gets to be in my house against my wishes, even if it is just for one night, then I’ll make her pay for that. I told her three years ago to stay out of my face. She needs to learn that my commands are absolute.

Cadee, flustered and on the spot, picks up her dessert spoon and uses it to taste the cold cucumber soup, then says, “Mm,” as she tries her hardest not to make a face.

“Oh, honey,” Isabella says. “Stop. That’s a dessert spoon. You do know how to properly set a table, don’t you?” She looks at my father. “You know how picky I am about these things. We need to make a good impression on the swanlings. So we can set high expectations.