Broken Trust: A Dark High School Romance(41)
“She was just doing her job,” I said as I hurried to catch up. We waited for the next elevator to arrive, and filed inside.
“Everyone has the heirs’ photos,” Dylan told me, no sympathy in his voice. “She clearly didn’t read her welcome package. No excuse for being bad at your job.”
I shrugged then, not caring enough to argue any further.
When we were inside the elevator, Beck keyed in a code, and then he was able to hit the button for the top floor.
Everyone was silent for the ride, until the doors finally dinged open onto the top floor. We stepped out into a plush, expensive looking reception area where the middle aged, perfectly styled woman at the desk clearly knew who we all were. Or the guys, at least.
“Gentlemen,” she cooed, standing in a smooth motion and running her hands down the front of her designer suit dress. “You’re almost on time today. The board will be pleased.” She stepped out from behind the desk and made a gesture for us to follow her as she sashayed on spiked heels down a corridor.
“Gentlemen?” I grumbled under my breath, “What am I, invisible?”
Normally I wouldn’t have given a shit, but it was just plain wrong for a woman to belittle other women. What happened to female empowerment and girl power and all that shit? Clearly didn’t exist in Delta’s world. Even Catherine had to act like she had her own swinging dick to get any sort of say.
“Ignore her,” Dylan murmured, walking so close to me that his arm brushed mine with every step. “She’s totally brainwashed by our idiotic fathers.”
Jasper was leading the way, allowing the woman who was old enough to be his mother to fawn all over him. As we paused in front of a set of impressive double doors, she was pawing at his chest and chortling like he’d just said the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Judging by the uncomfortable, slightly grossed-out look on Jasper’s face, this was one pussy he wasn’t down for.
“Thank you, Candace,” Beck said in a cool, emotionless voice. “That will be all.”
The woman cleared her throat and patted her hair self-consciously before nodding politely at Beck and swinging her ass back down the hall to her desk.
“Let’s get this over with,” Evan muttered, pushing open the double doors with a dramatic shove.
The heads of our five families—five of the richest, most powerful, dangerously corrupt bastards in the world—sat along the far side of a long conference table, and their conversation cut off abruptly when we entered.
“Oh look,” Evan’s silver haired father commented with heavy sarcasm, “Only thirty eight minutes late. This must be some kind of record for you four.” His beady gaze turned to me and he corrected himself. “Five.”
A gentle push to my lower back from Dylan encouraged me to take a seat when they all did, and I found myself sitting directly opposite my vile, conceited birth mother.
“It was late notice,” Beck replied with that perfectly flat tone, betraying nothing. “And traffic was bad.”
The disturbingly handsome older version of Beck sitting opposite him snorted a sound of disbelief as he shook his head.
“You insolent child,” he spat at his son, “if I weren’t bound by Delta traditions and seventeen hundred pages of legal documents, I’d be refusing your succession to this council.”
A cold, cruel smile curved Beck’s lips, and I needed to look away to stop from gasping.
“But you are,” he replied to his father, “bound, that is. Now, what have you called us here for? I’m assuming something needs to be done that you old fucks lack the finesse to pull off on your own.”
Catherine—nowhere near as practiced in “blank Delta face”—looked like she was about to shit an egg before Mr. Langham spoke over her.
“There is a charity gala this evening at City Hall. We’ve all been invited, as have Graeme and Christie. No doubt some of their spawn will be attending also.” His lip curled a little in disgust as he said those names, and it took me a moment to click the pieces together.
Oh, shit. Graeme and Christie Huntley were invited?
This ought to be interesting.
Was it a bit twisted that I was curious to meet the bastards responsible for almost killing all of us in that plane crash? Not to mention the murderers they sent after us to make sure the job was done. Oh, and their daughter of course. She was a real delight.
I opened my mouth to say something on the matter, but Beck’s hand closed over my knee under the table, silencing me.
“You called us in to attend a gala?” Beck asked, flat and skeptical.
“Bullshit,” Jasper commented from his seat where he lazed like it was a beanbag. He was slouched low, his hands folded behind his head and his legs wide. I was pretty sure he was only a minute away from putting his feet up on the table.
“Appearances are important,” Mr. Grant informed us. “Delta did not grow as large and as powerful as it has, without us always presenting a united front.” This time his gaze landed on me. “I’m sure you’ve learned the importance of a united front now, Miss Deboise?”
My temper flared, and I needed to sink my fingernails into my leg to stop from screaming at these megalomaniac fruit loops. Was Dylan’s dad seriously making casual mention about my attack at school like it was some kind of educational exercise? Fuck me, if I found out they had anything to do with it…