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When she sees the limo, she stops in her tracks. I close the door behind us and move to her side. Today, I’m determined to be anyone but me. If she wants a doting guy like Oliver, I’ll be that for her, even if it kills me. I have so much to make up for.
“You got a limo?”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she slowly peers up at me, confusion wrinkling her forehead. My arm feels odd on her. Physical touch isn’t really my thing. But she seems to enjoy it with Oliver, so I stay the course. “I thought my car was too much for this kind of party. You know how the guests arrive at these things. Their Rolls or Bentleys usually line the driveway.”
Her blue eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “I thought you’d love showing up in your loud muscle car while everyone else stares at you?”
She’s totally got me pegged there. I love throwing all of them off, but this isn’t about me. This is about Eden.
I shrug and walk her toward the limo. The driver opens the door with a flourish as soon as we get close. “Sir. Ma’am,” he greets.
I nod once at him as he helps Eden into the vehicle and then I get in myself. Inside, it’s like every other limo I’ve ever been in—the seats are posh leather, there’s a bar to the left, and toward the front, there’s a TV and a nice stereo system.
Eden slides all the way to the side, frowning while she glances around. My stomach twists at the look on her face, but I just go with it. “Are you sure your foot will be okay?”
“I’m wearing flats so I don’t reinjure it. No one wants to see me in heels. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“You look good in anything.”
She whips her head toward me, and I give her a wooden smile before looking away, watching out the window as the limo begins to move. Sweat dots my forehead. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea how to get her to stop looking at me like that. How come she looks at Oliver all doe-eyed when he compliments her, but she looks at me like she hopes I never say anything like that again.
Nerves rattle me on the way there. No one I’ve actually liked has ever accompanied me to my grandfather’s house. “Don’t, um…don’t be surprised when you see the house.”
She sits back, tucking one of her legs under the other on the seat. “Yeah? You know, it’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been to his house for a party before, even though it feels like I’ve been everywhere else.”
“I think you’ll get a kick out of it,” I tell her but don’t give anything away. I want to see her reaction when she realizes my grandfather built a literal—yet smaller—replica of the White House to be his home.
That’s how important he thinks he is. He lives his life like he’s the ultimate superpower in his little world. He calls the shots. He makes the rules. And he enforces them, too.
Eden says she’s coming here to look good for the Knights, but I hope she sees what she’s really dealing with, too. I just need to keep watch on her today. I’ll be glued to her hip, like Oliver. There is no way I’m letting her out of my sight with so many predators around.
“Did you grow up there?” she asks.
I shake my head, my stomach bottoming out. “You saw the house I grew up in. After my father died, I never went back. Grandfather never offered me to stay with him, so I had to fend for myself. I stayed with some cousins for a little while until they got tired of me. I realized I was much better on my own, so I got my own apartment. Been living that way ever since.”
She bites her lip as I tell the story but doesn’t comment on it whatsoever.
I bounce my leg up and down, drumming my fingers on my knee. I don’t do small talk. At this rate, I’m going to be a sweaty mess before we even pull up to the main gate.
“Do you like your cousin Vincent?”
My lip curls. “No.”
She raises her brows. “Care to expand on that?”
“Maybe when we were super young, he was okay, but then he became a devious fucking asshole, always trying to take my right as heir away from me.”
“Wait, you’re the heir to Jarvis?”
I laugh at her shocked expression. I forget how much she doesn’t know because she tried to completely distance herself from anything to do with this world. “No. By birth, it should’ve been mine, but I’m obviously not the first choice.”
“Because you don’t conform,” she supplies, and I nod. “What’s your relationship like with your grandfather? I mean, I know you’ll practically do anything he says,” she lobs at me.
“What’s with the first degree?” I shoot back.
“It’s called having a conversation.”
Air rattles around in my chest as I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. This is normal, I say internally. I wipe my hands down my pants. “Our relationship isn’t very good, actually. He likes to fuck with me, as I’m sure you’ve seen.”