All I've Never Wanted(17)

When she saw Adriana, though, she froze. There was a beat of silence. Finally, Maya spoke up.

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked, her jaw set.

"I'm going to continue reading my book," Adriana replied matter-of-factly, without batting an eye. She didn't let so much as a hint of her interest show.

"If you're going to throw anything else at me, you might as well do it now," Maya spit out. "The lemmings are on a roll."

Hmm. Feisty. "Did you just call me a lemming?" Adriana asked rather interestedly. Now, that was a first. She tried her hardest not to laugh.

"As far as I know, anyone who's at Roman Fiori's beck and call would be classified as such," Maya replied coolly, with far more dignity than anyone else who had just been socially crucified would have.

Now Adriana was slightly offended, though you could never tell from looking at her.

"I'm Roman's friend, but hardly at his 'beck and call,' as you call it." Her eyes swept over Maya. "Besides, even if I did choose to join in this little…game everyone else is so actively engaged in, I would be far more subtle." Her tone was wry but truthful.

"So are you?"

Adriana cocked an eyebrow.

"Part of the 'game,'" Maya clarified sarcastically, placing air quotes around the last word.

Adriana smiled slightly, returning to her book. "You would know if I was," she said, not looking up again. A moment later, she felt Maya take the seat across from her. The two stayed there in a simultaneously comfortable and awkward silence until the bell rang a little later.

Adriana leisurely stood up and gathered her belongings. Maya was already halfway to the elevator, though Adriana didn't know why she was in such a rush. She certainly didn't have anything to look forward to.

"Don't let them get to you," Adriana advised almost off-handedly as she slung her purple Miu Miu tote over one shoulder. "I know you're strong enough to get through this."

She almost winced at the cheesiness of it. Good going, Dr. Phil, she thought, but she was much too confident to be embarrassed. Besides, it was true. Her instinct was almost never wrong.

Maya stopped, her back still facing the blonde. "You don't know me at all."

"Maybe not," Adriana agreed lightly. "Nevertheless, it's about time someone stood up to Roman."

This time, Maya spun around. "I thought he was your friend," she pointed out almost accusingly.

"He is." Adriana gave a carelessly elegant shrug. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to see him taken down a peg or two."

Or ten.

"Well, that makes two of us."

Adriana's delicate, bell-like laugh tinkled through the library. "I'll be honest. I like you Maya, and I can tell you that if you can withstand what those…lemmings—" Here, she let a smile escape. "—are dishing out right now, you'll find it'll be worth it in the end."

Maya smiled grimly. "Why, is there a prize waiting for me at the end of all this?"

Adriana's smile was imbued with mischief, matching the twinkle in her aqua eyes. "That depends on how you define prize."

* * *

Roman was very, very pleased. Things were going exactly according to plan. That girl didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of surviving the rest of the week. And that bit with the snake, that had been genius, especially since it turned Maria or Martha or whatever the f*ck her name was, was deathly afraid of snakes.

He twirled a glass of whiskey absentmindedly around in his hand as a self-satisfied smile tugged at his lips. One of the best things about being a Fiori was you got everything you wanted without having to do any of the dirty work.

"What are you so happy about?" Parker asked, leaning back in one of the lounge’s plush couches and propping his feet up on the slate coffee table, which had been imported from Barcelona just in time for the start of school. The hottest interior designer of the moment was hired to overhaul the Scions' school sanctuary every summer; this year's had gone for rustic but sophisticated chic.


Roman himself didn't give a shit whether the fireplace should be marble or brick, or whether or not the throws were Ralph Lauren, of even if there should be any throws in the first place. Parker was the only one out of the four who seemed to give a shit, so he was usually the one who handled all the arrangements.

"Nothing," Roman responded automatically.

Parker didn't say anything; he just waited.

As predicted, Roman elaborated a moment later. "Just thinking about how that girl's faring," he admitted smugly. "The snake was genius."

"You, my friend, have a serious case of schaudenfreude." Parker motioned to the bartender, who immediately hurried over with an ice-cold soda. Unlike Roman, he didn't believe in drinking in the (early) afternoon.

Roman was so delighted that Marisa (Maria?) would be out of his sight and sufficiently punished that Parker's wry tone didn't even dampen his unusually high spirits. "So?" He downed the rest of his whiskey. "You say it like it's a bad thing." He looked around the room, finally noticing the conspicuous absence of his other friends. "Where's Carlo and Zack?"

Parker shrugged. "I'm not their babysitter, but if I had to guess, I would say Adriana's giving them an earful right now."