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Five

The world seems tocome to a halt as Draven sits next to me instead of Verna. He’s too close, I can smell him. The scar just under his eye looks deeper in the candlelight, bringing out the features that should make him uglier, not more beautiful.

And heisbeautiful.

Every angle of his face, the mischief in his eyes. The way he sounded when he fell apart for me.

Beautiful.

Dangerous.

And the furthest thing from mine.

“The next time you’re late, I’ll send you to Bayside to collect,” Ephraim growls, and while I’m not exactly sure what he means, I can guess.

Bayside is full of Saint City’s most hopeless causes. The degenerates, the recluses, the criminals, gangbangers and vagabonds. The street rats. My guess is the few legitimate shops that do exist down there pay him for protection. But why would Draven care?

“I’m sure Reaver misses you.”

Oh, that’s why. Reaver is a psychopath unlike any I’ve ever met. Worse than Draven, worse than Ephraim himself. He’s a sadist in and out of the bedroom, bad enough that he’s been banned from St. Andrew’s and no amount of his dirty money could ever buy one of us. The last girl he bought before he was cut off ended up being mailed to the mayor.

In pieces.

“I’m sure he does. Everyone misses me when I’m not around, huh, Verna?” He slouches slightly in his chair so his leg brushes mine, not giving her the chance to respond. “Anyways, what did I miss?”

My hand clenches tighter around the metal of my fork as I meet Alex’s eyes. I don’t know what mine are saying, but his are curious, almost suspicious. “Not much,” he says without breaking my gaze. “You’ve already met Miss Harbough, haven’t you?”

He turns his body toward me slightly, deep blue eyes scanning me up and down for far too long to be comfortable, and then he smiles. “We’ve been acquainted, yes. Good evening, Sully. You’re in my seat.”

My lips purse. “Change is good, isn’t it? I wanted to sit close to Alex.”

“Naturally,” he quips, the hint of sarcasm not missed by anyone at the table. “Have you told him about the cookies?”

“No, because I was told I wouldn’t be allowed to bake here. Leo was very clear about that,” I say quietly, but I could’ve mouthed it and everyone still would’ve known.

“Leo isn’t the boss here.”

“Enough about cookies,” Ephraim hisses toward Draven, his throat clearing as he adjusts his tie. “I’m sure you can see why Draven here is only around at night. Good riddance too, could you imagine him being the face of the Creed name?”

If this is the Provost’s attempt at a joke, I can see why Draven’s sense of humor sucks. All he’s managed to do is make everyone uncomfortable except for Verna. She seems to enjoy watching him put down his bastard son.

“As of right now, your face is the only one the public sees, so you’d have to step aside for that to change in any capacity. We all know that isn’t happening, so this conversation is completely pointless. I’m only seen at night because that’s when I want to be seen. All day people lie and flex under the sun, but the truth will always be found in the dark.”

He’s not wrong. I’ve seen it firsthand. Every day, with everything I’ve done.

He’s a liar too, even if only by omission.

Remembering Madeline’s advice, I choose to keep quiet and take a bite instead of chiming in.