Oaths and Omissions (Monsters & Muses #3)(39)

“I’d say be yourself, but they kind of hate you.”

“Rightfully so, I suppose.” The leather bracelet on his wrist peeks out beneath a big, silver Rolex, and I see the little W charm dangling from it. I don’t think he ever takes it off.

We travel in silence for a little longer, and I lock my fingers together in my lap, trying to think of something to say. A way to bridge the awkward gap between us, so my family buys the story of our engagement.

Because if they don’t, Daddy will certainly try and rip me away.

“I’m a Cancer,” I say finally, propping my knee up so it’s in the seat with me.

Jonas frowns. “That’s no way to talk about yourself, love.”

“What?” My face twists up. “No, not like that. My zodiac sign. My birthday is June twenty-fifth.”

“November fourth.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “You would be a Scorpio.”

“I can assure you, I have no idea what that means.” Turning onto the gravel drive leading to my family’s mansion, he glances in my direction. “Thirty-three years old. Moved here from London as a kid, had a brief modeling stint as a teenager, allergic to shellfish.”

“Yikes. You live on an island outside the Boston Harbor, and you’re allergic to shellfish?”

“Quite the conundrum, I know.”

“What about college? Friends?” Pursing my lips, I raise an eyebrow. “Jail time?”

His eyes flicker to me as we roll to a stop at the security building outside the stone gate. The window has been replaced, and Matt seems to have been replaced with someone new—a burly, bald man who just glares at us from behind the glass.

If I didn’t already suspect that Daddy’s into shady practices, the lack of alarm and intrigue around the blatant murder of his party guest and employee would’ve been a red flag. But what I’ve learned in the last year is that no one is who they say they are.

Least of all my father.

I give a slight wave, and the gate unlocks, sliding open. Pulling through, Jonas drags a hand through his hair, tousling the strands so a few curls droop down over his forehead.

“Never went to university,” he says, parking behind a line of vehicles in the circular driveway. “Wasn’t a very good student, so the thought of going into debt for a degree I wasn’t interested in never really appealed to me. Took a couple courses in business management and biotech at Roxbury after I got released from… well.” He pauses, a thin smile stretching over his face. “I don’t think you need a rundown of my criminal record.”

My fingers toy with the door handle. “Is there a record? I mean, you told me once that the stuff the media says about you isn’t true, so… what is?”

Leaning over the console, Jonas balances on the armrest between us, one hand coming up to capture my chin. He tugs, forcing me to look up at him. The tip of his thumb swipes across the bow of my bottom lip, and he smirks when my nostrils flare at the contact.

“How did I propose?”

Flustered with the subject change, I shake my head. “What?”

“Something tells me your mum will want to know. So, how’d I do it?”

“Um.” I pull away, flattening my clammy palms on my thighs. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, little puppet. Level with me here. What did you dream about as a girl?”

Pressing my lips together, I shrug, too embarrassed to admit that there’s a binder full of wedding ideas stuffed away in my old room somewhere, collecting dust like all of my other memories here. Pink-and-white color schemes, bouquets of lilies and dahlias, and a host of Mediterranean destination venues come to mind, but I realize that isn’t what he’s asking for.

“I didn’t dream about a proposal,” I admit, and the surprise that registers on his face makes my heart sink to my stomach.

“Not at all? I thought that was commonplace for girls.”

“Guess I was a little busy being married to Primrose Realty.”

“You don’t work for them.”

“Wrong.” I smile, hooking my fingers in the handle and pulling until the door pops open. “All I’ve ever done is work for them.”

Cash and Mama greet us at the door, which I find alarming right away. Normally, she likes to be set up somewhere inside that the guests have to find her. It’s disorienting to people who have never been to a venue before, which is how she asserts her dominance.

Otherwise, she’d never have any.

She’s in a green dress that makes her blonde hair somehow brighter, and she beams as Jonas and I exit the vehicle, clasping her hands together.

“My, look how you’ve grown!” Pulling me in for a tight hug immediately, she retreats just enough to give me a once-over, rubbing her cool palms up and down my biceps.

I force a laugh, anxiety swelling like a rain cloud in my stomach. “Mama, I haven’t grown since I was fifteen.”

“Well, that’s just not true. Vertically, maybe, but you didn’t always have C—”

“Mrs. Primrose, I presume?” Jonas interrupts, stepping forward with his hand extended. He stops at my side, just close enough for discomfort, and Mama releases me to put her hand in his. “Jonas Wolfe. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”