Page 27 of Jerk

Trust me,you can’t handle what I really want.

Rye’s words haunt me the rest of the day, all the way back to my not-humble-at-all abode.

It used to feel like a castle, stunning and romantic. It’s even got vine walls, turrets, sculptured hedges and a fountain in the driveway. Despite all my favourite features, it's more like a cage. One with a hell of a pool.

After today, I'm actually relieved to be home. At least here I don't have to worry about running intohim. He’s toying with me. Using my body when he wants. Claiming what’s mine when he pleases.

And I keep letting him get away with it.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, my shoulders sink. It’s clear I’m way overdue for a facial. It's clear this arrogant Crown stresses me out. So tonight’s plan is to head straight to my room for a bath bomb, my silk robe, and three back-to-back eclairs from Chez Antoine.

Extra cars sit in the driveway as I park my Porsche next to mom’s Rover. My parents are known for their frequent gatherings. Galas, dinners, “very important business meetings”with fine wine and imported charcuterie. But I’m so not in the mood. Avoiding their company is best.

Laughter and conversation drift from the living room as I step into the foyer. “Welcome home, Miss Hannah," Carrie greets me in her usual polo and blue apron, reaching for my things. She opens her mouth to speak again before I lift my finger to my lips. She nods, and a weight lifts. I won’t have to pass my parents on the way to my room.

Slipping off my heels stops them from clicking against the polished marble as I make my way to the grand stairs. I’m halfway up when my phone vibrates.

Reminder: Interview w/ IOU Paris: 2 a.m.

Outside of escaping the cops, the only silver lining to this day is landing another interview, even if it’s in the wee hours. It’s in France, so if I get it, which I will, that means leaving The Hill and my mother behind for a little bit. It’ll be hard. A big change I haven’t processed. But after Marisol’s betrayal, I don’t have much of a choice this late in the semester.

Another notification hits my screen.

Ember: u gave Ryung ur lake house?

I’m quick to respond.

Hannah: Beats going to jail

I should’ve known Rye wouldn’t help me out of kindness. He’s always bargaining. Plotting. Scheming.

Ember: Marisol’s parents got her out

Ember: but what’s really going on with you and Ryung?

My stomach twists as bits of the past week roll through my head. The glass. The fire. The way his sharp touch makes me sink into his body.

“Oh, Hannah, you’re here.”

I jump, a familiar voice coming from behind me.

Turning around, Michelle Nam stands at our front door. She has this look of disgust on her face, eyeing my outfit as if I’m vermin in my own home. So much for staying discreet.

“Don’t worry,” I reassure her, not wanting to relive my mortification. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Hannah?” My mom’s surprised voice follows all the way from the living room. I try to hustle up the stairs, but it’s too late. “Hannah!” Her voice, much louder now, stops me in my path.

When I turn around, my mother looks much better than she did the last time I saw her. On the floor under my father’s threat. A sapphire wrap dress adorns her skinny frame. Louboutins. Bulgari earrings. The perfect Paradise wife.

“I'm heading to my room,” I repeat, wanting nothing more in this moment than to disappear.

“You can’t be here,” my mother says.

My brows knit, turning to face her. “I live here.” It’s wild that I even have to say that.

“We have guests.” Carrie ushers Michelle into the next room as my mother climbs the steps to meet me. She lowers her voice, glancing at the front door. “Your father will be home soon to be with them. Don’t let him find you in the same space as Michelle.”

“No one will even know I’m here.”