Page 64 of Forgotten Sacrifice

Itryto pretend she didn’t give me the best head of my life.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Luna

Rolling over on my stomach on a lounge chair, I flip through the science outline in my workbook. No clue what happened to my tutor, but Vince never mentioned me getting a new one, and I recall something about not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Glancing at my phone, I resist the urge to check my email for the hundredth time. Still haven’t heard back from the Chess Hall, and I’m trying not to stress.

“Put some fucking clothes on; the neighbors can see you,” Vince chides, now standing over me.

I push my sunglasses on top of my head, craning my neck. “I am wearing clothes; it’s this newfangled thing called a bathing suit. And if you’re so concerned with the neighbors, maybe you should fence your backyard,” I tell him in a bored tone, pretending he didn’t crush my ego last night. But after I got over being butt-hurt, I reassessed the chess board. Theman came so hard and shot such a huge load down my throat, I nearly choked to death.

Vince still doesn’twantto want me. That means I haven’t lost this game just yet.

He grabs his phone, making a call in Italian before pocketing it. “Go get ready. I’m filling in this evening at the social club, and you’re coming with me.”

I stand and stretch. “Why do I need to come with you?”

“Because I don’t trust you alone for that long,” he admits.

“Fine.” I make a show of bending over to grab my workbook. While I would like to be home alone so I can break into Vince’s office, I’m equally curious about what goes on at the club, so I don’t argue.

Feeling his gaze on me, I shake my thong-covered ass inside the house. In my room, I try on one of Olivia’s designer dresses that got mixed up with my things. Not that Olivia would notice it missing; her wardrobe allowance is more than a small country’s GDP.

These rich kid friends of yours have nothing to lose, so that makes them trouble.

My friends blew up my phone last night when I disappeared from the club, and I texted a vague reply that something came up.

My thoughts must have conjured her, because my phone buzzes, and I see it’s Olivia calling. “Hey.”

“Now that I’m semi-sober, I’m not letting you off the hook for last night.”

“You’re just now semi-sober?” It’s seven in the evening.

“There was an afterparty involved,” she says dismissively. “Don’t change the subject. What the hell happened to you?”

“Sorry, I had a family situation that came up.”

Olivia huffs dramatically. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” I say firmly.

“Why are you always so sketchy when it comes to your family?”

“What’s with the interrogation? You sound like fucking Aspen,” I snap.

“Don’t be a bitch. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“Look, I’m sorry I bailed,” I say. “But I’m fine.”

“Are you being, like, held hostage or something by your guardian?”

All the little hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. How the fuck does she know that I have a guardian? “What the hell are you talking about?” I deflect.

“I know people who can find out things,” she says unapologetically.