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Aiden squeezed my fingers under the table. I patted the top of his hand to soothe him. He didn’t want to come to dinner for this exact reason. The Salvatores had never shown an ounce of respect toward my brother. Luca was trying with the video games, but Arlo constantly challenged him.
“We have the money from my exhibition,” I told Arlo. “We’ll be okay for a while.”
“Yes, I heard you sold out. Your first showing was quite a remarkable feat. Even Evangeline didn’t do that well, and she was the hottest up-and-coming name.”
My heart sunk to my stomach faster than an anchor hitting the ocean floor. Without words, his expression said, “Did you really think you were better than her?”
It.
Was.
All.
A.
Lie.
Arlo sipped from his glass. “Did you ever find out who bought all of your pieces?”
“Dad,” Luca hissed.
“An anonymous buyer,” I whispered as I turned to look at Luca, who gave me an apologetic look. “You promised not to…”
“Drea, baby.” His hand moved to my thigh. “It’s not what you think.”
My heart cracked down the middle, splitting into hundreds of pieces that shattered into a million more. They orchestrated everything in my life.
The New Yorkerinterview.
The gallery opening.
The sold-out show.
Our move to Devil’s Creek.
My position at The Franco Foundation.
Everything was a game with Arlo Salvatore. Aiden and I hadn’t lived in Devil’s Creek long enough to know how to play it. They operated under a distinct set of rules here. Aiden’s street smarts and my book smarts were insufficient to outlast master manipulators.
We fell right into their trap.
Someone was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in my ears. I blinked a few times, my vision fuzzy from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Bile rose from my stomach and settled in the back of my throat.
Unable to look at any of them, I pushed my chair out from the table and muttered, “Excuse me.”
I rushed out of the dining room and bolted toward the front door, desperate for air.
“Lexie,” Aiden yelled down the hallway.
I spun around to face him, trying to keep the contents of my stomach from spilling onto their perfectly polished floor.
“Let’s go,” Aiden said with his hand on my back. “Fuck all of them. Seriously. Don’t let them mess with your head.”
“I hate him,” I choked out. “I hate all of them. They’re sick. Why are they doing this? They have controlled every part of my life since I met Luca.”
“This is their way of getting back at Pops. We can leave the house behind and go home.”
Our parents still lived in our childhood home in the Midwest. The thought of going back there made my stomach ache.