The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,64

for any of this. As I slipped the heels on, I winced thinking about the night ahead that I had in them. “Whatever is going on with Ever, I trust you’ll help him see things your way.”

“Should I sleep with him, Mother?”

“That’s enough, Barbette! This is serious!”

“Regardless, proper ladies never raise their voice,” I chastised as she had done me so many times before.

She paused before patting her bun and smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. “We need you to understand what’s at risk. Without the McNamara’s money, your father and I will be ruined.”

“What about me? Do you even care what happens to me?”

“Ever will be good to you.”

“And if he doesn’t marry me? Would you really let Father marry me to some geezer with a limp penis and a handful of Viagra? Don’t you care what people will say then?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Barbette. He won’t be old.”

“But he might be cruel.”

“Your father has many friends with young, handsome sons who can give you the life you deserve.”

“I deserve to be unhappy?”

“You deserve to have all the finer things in life.”

As I looked away, my gaze landed on the pair of scissors resting on my vanity. Like I had when I was twelve-years-old, I longed to cut away my tresses until there was nothing left. Now I knew it would never be enough. Rather than urge me to nourish the good I held inside, my parents carved it out until I was left with nothing to offer except my skin—the beauty they valued above all else.

I was hollow, empty, and now that Ever had finally chosen the only girl who should matter, I was on my own. The reality of my situation sinking in felt like the key sliding into a lock and turning. The door opened, and I waited on its threshold for despair and panic to take hold and devour me.

Something else entirely emerged.

“Would you still believe that if I were no longer beautiful?” Picking up the scissors, I held the sharp end to my face near my temple. The sad, lonely wind swirling inside my shell ceased the moment Ever walked away from me yesterday. I assumed I’d finally broken. I didn’t know until this moment that it had only been the quiet before the storm. The tempest I’d fought so hard to protect was no longer content to wait in her tower. She wanted out, and she was done asking permission. “Tell me, Mother. Would you?”

Seeing the wrath brewing in my eyes, she took a step back but her horror when I dug the scissors into my skin kept her from taking another. I kept pressing, relieved that I could still feel pain, and then I dragged them down…

I didn’t get far before my mother broke free of her shock and wrangled the scissors from my hand. I watched her toss them across the room.

“Look what you’ve done!” Rushing into the en suite, she returned seconds later with a first aid kit. I stared at myself in the mirror, unfazed by the blood running down my perfectly made-up face. “You better hope your father doesn’t find out what you’ve done.”

I scoffed because my father had given me wounds far worse than this. Besides, Elliot Montgomery barely noticed anything when it came to me. I’d been a daughter when he wanted a son, so he had no interest in me, and before realizing my beauty could garner him millions, he had no use for me, either.

After cleaning and bandaging my cut that was barely more than a scratch, she fixed my makeup before rearranging my hair so that the wound wouldn’t show.

Once done, she stood back, searching for imperfections. Finding none, she scooped the scissors from the floor. “You won’t be getting these back.”

I was silent as I watched her go. The moment the door closed, I stood and crossed the room until I reached my nightstand. For the millionth time today, I picked up my phone, but after a few minutes of staring at the blank screen, I set it back down. Maybe there was nothing I could say to make things right. I was probably the last person Four wanted to hear from, anyway.

Tossing my phone into the small gold clutch that my mother loaned me, I headed downstairs. Time to face the music.

There would be no Prince Charming ringing my doorbell tonight and no carriage ride to the ball. I joined my parents in the parlor room, where they waited for Ever to