Empire High Betrayal (Empire High #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,105

Surely someone could say something to shift the focus off me and Rob. I sighed with relief as my dad stood up at the head of the table. He lightly tapped his knife against his glass, easily silencing the room.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “Once a year we all get together to celebrate our family. And tonight we have a new addition. Princess, I am so lucky that you’ve found your way back into my life.”

Everyone turned to stare at me. And despite what my dad said, I didn’t feel like part of the family. I felt like an intruder. Especially with the way Isabella was staring at me. And Poppy. And even a few of the “uncles.”

I tried to focus on my dad instead of on all the haters.

“And I expect everyone to welcome you with open arms,” he said.

It sounded more like a threat than a toast. I gulped.

“A toast. To family. To new beginnings. To a wonderful year ahead.” He lifted up his glass. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.” He tapped his glass against his wife’s.

For just a second my eyes locked with Mrs. Pruitt’s. She was staring at me in the same way that Isabella always did. Like my time had come. And I saw her in a whole new light now. She was the real mobster. My dad had married into this mess. Was she the one controlling the strings? Was that why there was unrest with the families? Was that why everyone was staring at me like I didn’t belong?

Matt tapped his glass against mine. “To family,” he whispered in my ear.

I tried to take a deep breath. It didn’t matter if this family hated me. The family I was marrying into didn’t. “To family,” I said and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Matt was my real family.

Everyone started clinking glasses and drinking their champagne.

I turned to watch Isabella take a sip of hers. And I couldn’t help but smile. It was game time.

Chapter 37

Thursday

The first signs of Isabella’s discomfort were her wiggling in her chair. I swore I even saw a gleam of sweat on her forehead.

I didn’t think anyone else noticed.

But when her stomach started gurgling? A few people at the table started to look over at her.

“Are you feeling alright?” Rob asked. He looked so freaking happy.

“I’m fine, twerp,” Isabella said. She lifted her champagne flute and downed the rest.

Oh no.

Rob’s eyes grew round.

“Oh, shit,” James said under his breath. And then he just laughed.

I don’t think any of us had expected Isabella to drink all of her champagne. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“You okay?” Matt asked me. He put his hand on my thigh. “You look a little pale, baby.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” But I wasn’t. I was pretty sure my stomach suddenly felt as upset as Isabella’s was about to. I just wanted a little payback. Not a real accident. Just a teensy tiny threat of an accident would have been enough for our prank to work.

“How much did you put in there?” I tried to mouth silently to Rob.

He just shrugged. But it looked like he was about to burst out laughing.

Oh God. Rob had really had to encourage me about the laxatives part of the plan to begin with. But he insisted that they were necessary. I never thought she’d down the whole glass. This was bad. Really, really bad.

Isabella’s stomach gurgled even louder.

Poppy leaned forward to see where the noise was coming from.

Isabella grabbed her napkin and wiped off her forehead.

She looked…sick. Damn it, this wasn’t part of the plan! She was just supposed to feel uncomfortable and stand up to excuse herself. Simple as that. But Isabella didn’t move at all. She just kept sitting there, her stomach gurgling more and more.

Her cheeks puffed up like she was going to barf, but she swallowed whatever it was back down. But the air still had to come out of somewhere. So she farted. Loudly.

My mouth dropped open.

Someone’s fork clattered onto their plate.

“Excuse you, Rob,” Isabella said.

“That wasn’t me,” he said. “That was all you, Wizzy.”

“No it was not.” Her stomach gurgled again. It looked like she was dying to get up. But now if she did, it would basically be a confession that she was the one that farted.

It didn’t matter though. Because she farted again, even louder this time.

Okay, maybe it was a little funny. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t giggle.

Isabella’s face contorted with pain. There was no way to