already very active in the women associations committee, so he should make friends with her, something that Sebastian refuses and Silver’s face slightly falls at hearing it.
Then Frederic moves on to talk about using Mum and Sebastian’s marriage to promote to another faction of society. While everyone is busy focusing on him, I retrieve my phone and hide it low under the conference table so Derek, the driver who is currently sitting beside me, doesn’t see.
And yes, even the driver plays a part in the campaign. This is almost like a battlefield where even the horses need to be placed strategically. No mistakes are allowed.
Cole: Did you hear what Frederic said? I’m always right.
I observe her facial features as soon as I hit Send. They morph from concentrated to the fired-up expression where she’s ready to climb on the table and jump down my throat. Or punch it. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did both.
She decides to ignore me, thinking of herself as the better person or whatever else might be going on in her righteous, prude brain.
Not under my watch.
I’m persistently out to destroy her innocence, and it’s for a reason.
Cole: That includes the fact that you fantasise about me. Admit it and I might not use it against you.
She purses her lips, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
Silver: I do not. Keep dreaming, wanker.
Cole: Do you mean to tell me you haven’t been rubbing your thighs together since we got here in remembrance of me?
Her cheeks tint in a rosy colour and she grips the phone tighter.
Silver: I have not.
Cole: I saw you, though. In fact, I bet you’re clenching your thighs right now. I bet you’re wet, Butterfly.
Her lips part, with arousal this time, but she focuses back on Frederic, refusing to reply.
It takes everything in me not to go there, grab her by the hand, and kidnap her the fuck out of here. Since that option is out of the question, I type.
Cole: Maybe I should check. I bet if I thrust my fingers in you right now, you’d soak me like you did my dick.
Her lips tremble as she reads the text.
Silver: Stop it.
Cole: Why? Are you scared they’ll find out you like being fucked by your stepbrother? That you were fucked against this same table when anyone could’ve walked in and witnessed you losing your virginity?
She swallows and squirms in her seat. If anyone were to pay her the slightest attention, and if she had on a light-coloured tank top, everyone would see her nipples, hard and turned on.
The fact that I can push her buttons makes me smile. Then I pretend I’m agreeing with Mum about some sort of a weekend meal.
That’s the difference between me and Silver. She can’t multi-task, especially when she’s aroused, but I never erase my surroundings, not even when she’s the only thing who matters in them.
Silver: Just shut up.
Cole: I will on one condition.
Silver: What?
Cole: End it with Aiden.
It’s her turn to smirk from across the table.
Silver: I won’t. What will you do about it? Fuck me? *yawn emoji*
I narrow my eyes the slightest bit, then decide to push the button she loathes the most.
Cole: Remember that pic you saw on my phone?
Her brow furrows as she reads the text, and when realisation sets in, her fist clenches harder and her manicured nails nearly crack from the way she holds her phone.
Cole: If you don’t do as you’re told, you’ll regret it.
Silver: Screw. You.
As soon as Frederic finishes the section, I stand up. “I’m going to meet the guys.”
Mum smiles. “Ronan’s again?”
“Yeah.”
“Have fun,” Sebastian tells me.
Silver’s eyes widen, but she quickly masks her reaction. She already knows that she messed up real bad.
On my way outside, I type her one last text.
Cole: I will be screwing someone. It just won’t be you.
19
Silver
I lied.
I told Papa and Helen I was going out with Veronica and Summer. Instead, I’m at Ronan’s house.
Okay, Veronica and Summer are here too, so it’s not like it’s a complete lie.
Papa doesn’t like it when I party. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it’s beneath me.
It’s not like I love it myself. Unlike what everyone believes, I don’t like attention. Or at least, I like it on my terms, and not twenty-four-seven.
The three of us stroll through the entrance. Lars, Ronan’s favourite butler, greets us by name. And yes, when Ronan’s earl father isn’t around, he has his butlers organise the parties for him, and he practically throws them