the yacht swarms around her. They coo as she smiles bashfully, hugging her white bathrobe to her chest and shaking her head in mock embarrassment. The actress somehow manages to make a terrycloth bathrobe look expensive and stylish.
Everybody in the room laps it up, eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame.
Everybody—except me.
I hang back, glancing over her shoulder to see if I can spot her sister. The cabin door behind her closes, and Margot walks out to the main salon area. A waitress hands her some water and a snack, which she accepts with a smile.
She drinks a sip of water, but she puts the cheese and crackers down on a table without touching them. Her face looks relaxed, almost slack, and her eyes are hooded.
An itching sensation crawls up my spine. I know that look on her face, and it makes me want to reach into my pocket, take a painkiller, and join her in numb bliss.
I pat my breast pocket, but before I slip out my pill bottle and swallow one down, I think of Ivy. I think of her smell, and her touch, and the way her lips feel when they’re pressed against mine.
I don’t want to numb that. I want to feel that fully and completely, with my mind clear and my body awake.
My eyes drift back to the cabin door, which remains closed. My chest tightens. It’s Ivy they should be swarming around, not her sister.
Ivy was the brave one. All Margot did was fall in.
Another actress sits beside Margot, pulling a phone out and angling it toward the both of them for a selfie. Margot poses and then laughs, lapping up the attention. Beckett sits near her, his eyes glued on her pretty, blonde head.
It disgusts me.
Where’s Ivy? We should be celebrating the woman who jumped in to save her sister, not the one who fell overboard for a few likes on social media. I stare at the closed door again, but Ivy stays behind it. I gulp as worry knots my stomach.
Grabbing a bottle of water and a sandwich, I start stalking back toward the room. I glance once more at the group as a strong, bitter taste coats my mouth.
This is the woman that I’m supposed to pretend to like? One that leaves Ivy behind right after she saved Margot’s life? One that takes a selfie and laughs with her friends while her sister suffers?
It’s repulsive.
I’m not perfect—I have my own issues with my family, especially Theo and Cara—but family always comes first. Always. I wouldn’t have come to Farcliff for this stupid trip if I didn’t care about my family. I wouldn’t have agreed to this publicity stunt. I wouldn’t tolerate Beckett’s insufferable moods around Margot if I didn’t care for my family.
I did it because Theo asked me to, and because it was good for the family.
I throw Margot one more hate-filled glance, only to see her staring back at me. She inclines her head ever so slightly. Her eyes soften, and a flash of pain passes across her face. She blinks as if to say, thank you.
Thank you for checking on Ivy, when I need to be out here to keep up appearances.
At least, that’s what I think her look says. It’s gone as quickly as it appears. Her face snaps back to normal, and she laughs at something my brother says. She titters as another man compliments her, batting her eyelashes and probably making his cock hard as rock. I frown as I walk back to the yacht’s main cabin. Maybe there’s more to Margot than I assumed. Maybe she does care about her sister, but she knows that she needs to be out here.
It’s her job.
Still, it makes my stomach churn. I’m glad no one follows me down the hallway. Knocking softly on the door, I lean my head against the frame.
“Poison?”
Pausing, I hear nothing.
I knock again.
Still no response.
“Ivy?”
A tiny, faint sniffle sounds through the thin wooden door, and I take that as my cue to enter. Ivy is crumpled on the bed, curled up in a tight ball as she cries into the pillow. Kicking the door closed, I drop the sandwich and water on the bedside table and scoop her into my arms.
Leaning back on the headboard, I cradle Ivy close to my chest. I rock her back and forth, stroking her hair. She stiffens momentarily. I lay a soft kiss into her black hair, and she sobs into my arms. Ivy melts