Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(94)
“Nice to see you too, Marina,” he says, scrawling his signature across the card and handing it back to her. “This is my wife, Abigail,” he adds, casting a cursory glance my way.
She turns sharp eyes on me, and the edge slides off her smile. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Barron. First time here, right?”
“Yes.” I give her my best fake smile.
“I hope you enjoy your stay. And if you’d like a recommendation, I’d try out the purple recreation room. It’s Charlie’s favorite.” You would never know she’s digging a knife in my back by the pleasant smile plastered on her face, but only an idiot would fail to pick up on her meaning.
“Do you like your job, Marina?” I ask.
Her confident smile falters a little. “I love my job.”
I deliberately look her up and down in a blatantly derisory manner, channeling my inner bitch. “Then I suggest you avoid telling other newly married brides in a none-too-subtle manner that you’ve fucked their husbands, and in which rooms too.” I lean in close, inspecting her name badge on purpose. “Before I became Abigail Barron, I was Abigail Hearst-Manning.”
All the color drains from her face.
“So, you know who my father is, and the kind of power he holds around here. Try to piss me off again and you’ll find yourself out of a job. And that’s your only warning.” She’s lucky I’m strung out about tomorrow, or I’d have her fired on the spot.
“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Barron. I don’t know what came over me.”
I dismiss her with a wave of my hand, refocusing on Charlie. “Are we done here?”
His lips twitch. “We’re done.” He looks at a pale-faced Marina. “I assume my usual room is ready?”
“Actually, Mr. Hearst requested you to be moved to the presidential floor.”
Charlie’s eyes burn with indignation as he thrusts the key card back at her. “I want my usual room. Fix it on your system.” Marina looks like she wants to argue but glances at the thunderous look on Charlie’s face and my bored face and thinks better of it. I tap out a quick text to Drew, warning him that Father has most likely requested to move his room too, so he sticks to the original arrangements. I need the comfort of knowing my brother and friend are close by should I need them.
Ten minutes later, Charlie opens the door to a lavish room, and I step inside, relaxing a smidgeon until I spot the king-sized bed I’ll have to share with him. I could protest and sleep on the couch, but I need to bring my A-game tomorrow, and I haven’t been sleeping well as it is.
My cell pings, and I remove it from my purse as I kick my stiletto heels off.
After months of living in jeans and Kai’s sweatshirts, being forced to dress the part of an elite lady again is so stifling I can barely breathe. A smile crests over my mouth as I spot his gorgeous face smiling back at me from my screen. I press the button and accept Kai’s call, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door. “Hey, babe.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Father tried to move our room to a room beside him, but Charlie was having none of it.”
“Good. You’ve still got the tracker in your cell, your purse, and your shoes, right?” he asks.
“I do.” I didn’t protest it was over the top when Xavier insisted on it yesterday, because the truth is, we need to be over the top with everything to ensure we’re safe. The guys all have trackers in their cells and shoes too, and we all have the tracking app on our phone. Tomorrow, we’ll use the earpieces so Xavier, Sawyer, and Jackson can hear everything going on from the comfort of their rental car which will be parked on the road outside here. Sawyer checked with his father, and the devices should still work at this distance.
“Is she there yet?” I ask, a scowl immediately appearing on my face at the thought of Giselle.
“I haven’t seen her, but she sent me a text to say she was here,” he confirms. He hasn’t heard much from her since the wedding party, when he made it clear he had no interest in her after she let Trent finger-fuck her on the dance floor in view of others. Atticus could’ve used it as an excuse to get Kai out of chaperoning her this weekend, but we figure the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Giselle isn’t a threat. She’s more of an annoying gnat. But one we can swat away when we’ve had enough of her.
Trent and Alessandra, on the other hand, are a force to be reckoned with. Tensions have been high at school with a clear divide among the elite. Trent finally seems to have met his match, and the way those two paw at one another each lunchtime confirms it. Yet he hasn’t made any move to retaliate, and I’m not na?ve enough to think Father’s warning actually did anything but make him more determined. We continue to trade barbs and insults, but he hasn’t physically made any move, and that’s another reason to be nervous.
“Don’t worry about her, babe. She’s nothing,” Kai says, reassuring me.
“I know. And I’m not. She’s probably the only thing I’m not worried about.”
“We are well prepared,” he says in a low tone. “And it’s going to happen.”
“We just have to get through this damn engagement party first.”
My face hurts from smiling, and my feet are already killing me, and we’re only an hour into this monstrous party. It’s typical of the bastard to throw an extravagant engagement party the night before the big vote. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he did it to distract himself from feeling nervous. But to experience nervousness, you have to feel emotion, and that bastard is incapable of feeling anything.