Page 81 of Vicious Little Snakes

“We came to celebrate, Caroline. I don’t want the day to become ruined before we’re able to do that. Say something. Change the subject.”

My eyes dart to hers, disbelieving. Celebrate? Some of the ice thaws from behind my glare.

“Caroline, take control,” she whispers. “Grey will listen to you.”

Butterflies flutter inside my stomach, soothing the anger I was harboring.She wants to celebrate.Her eyes are insistent as I nod.

I look back between Evan and Grey, wondering what the fuck I should say, ultimately interjecting, “Evan. Has Grey told you that he qualified for the Olympic rowing team?”

Both men’s faces shoot to mine, but it’s Grey’s that makes me second-guess what I’ve just said. Shit. Donovan told all of us days ago; I didn’t think it was a secret.

My mother clasps her hands together. “Amazing. What an accomplishment. It seems we have two things to celebrate today.” She nods to a waiter, who approaches with a bottle of champagne.

Was that planned?

I lean over to Grey, whispering, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say. She wanted to toast my birthday.”

I want this moment more than I can admit—is what I don’t say, but he gets it because he gives me a wink. “You owe me one, Caroline.”

Evan fixes his suit vest, exchanging looks with my mother as the silver champagne bucket is set on the table, the cork popped. Our glasses are filled, but Grey waves it off, opting to pick up his coffee mug.

My mother lifts her glass, urging Evan to do the same, then smiles between Grey and me.

“To Grey. Your father and I are so proud of you and very excited for what the future brings—with the company and now rowing.”

I’m paused, frozen midair. I lower my flute as my mother tries to clink mine, recoiling as I look down at the table, my voice quiet.

“You wanted to toast Grey. Of course, how silly of me to think otherwise.”

Grey sits up a bit taller, watching me, as I laugh to myself, staring at the bubbles swirling like little tornadoes in the crystal, thinking that it’s exactly how I feel—like a fucking tornado.

Lifting my eyes, I stare at my stepbrother, who looks like he’d ruin the lives of every person in this room if I asked. So much is communicated between us with just a look.

We really only have each other and the people we’ve made family—Grey, begrudgingly Donovan, Kai…Liam.

“Caroline,” she hisses. “What is wrong with you? Don’t be stupid, of course, that’s why we’re toasting,” she laughs. “What other reason would there be?”

My head swings to hers. “My birthday, Mother.”

She doesn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty as she waves a hand in the air dismissing what I’ve said.

There was a time when I hung on her every word, and when I was much younger, I’d hoped I could convince her to love me. Later I just aimed to please. Jesus, all of my achievements are aimed at gaining her respect, even if she never deserved mine. And here she is, proving that point. I smooth my hair back to where it sits in a low ponytail, hearing my mother’s guffaw.

“Caroline,excuse-toi maintenant.”Caroline, apologize now.

Grey smacks a hand on the table, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Vivienne, your daughter is set to graduate with honors. She’ll receive early acceptance to every school she’s applied to. Her birthday party got an honorable mention, not only on Page Six but by Anna fucking Wintour. The social ladder you’ve been climbing since you got off the goddamn bus ends with Caroline now. You’d be wise to remember that and lift your glass.”

Shocked, worried, nervous—all are appropriate descriptions of her face, but I’m smiling.He’s the worst.Grey grabs the champagne bottle, filling his glass and clinking it to mine.

“Happy birthday, Care.”

Fuck you, Vivienne Rycroft Whitmore.

She turns her fake smile on me, turning on the accent as I take a sip.

“Chérie, of course, I was going to include you in my speech.”