Page 104 of Cruel Pleasures
“Today has been a lovely day,” she says. “The snowfall has stopped. The sun has peeked out. Preparations for the final round of the games are in progress. Though, by all weather accounts, a storm is on the way.”
Hopefully I’ll be off this fucking isle by then.
“I wouldn’t know,” I snap. “My phone hasn’t worked since I got here. Checking the weather forecast hasn’t been a privilege I’ve been afforded.”
She sips slowly from her teacup and then sets it down on her saucer with a sharp clang. “I would say you have had plenty of privileges since you’ve arrived, Sasha.”
“I see you’re back to pretending I’m Sasha.”
“How many women can say what you can?” she asks, ignoring my comment. “How many women can bask in the influence that they have?”
“I wish I knew what you were talking about.”
“Many women would love to know your secret.” She places the teacup and saucer on the coffee table between us, rising from the throne-like chair she’s seated in with practiced elegance. My gaze tracks her as she wanders over to the nearest window and peers out at the winter sunlight washing over the garden. “Do you know how old this manor is?”
I think a second, thrown by the question. “I’m guessing at least a century.”
“At least a century is correct. Over two centuries to be more exact. It was built in the early eighteenth century when the family first immigrated here from Europe. Right toward the end of the Napoleonic Wars. The Hurst family—originally known as Horstweg—decided they wanted to wash their hands of the messy complications left over from the war. They saw it more beneficial to use their wealth to take part in the Industrial Revolution and American capitalism.”
“Fascinating,” I mumble, my tone dry. “But none of that has anything to do with me. Or this meeting for tea.”
“As you can see, they modeled this house after their original in their home country. I’ve always thought it was a lovely home. Even as a little girl running the halls,” she goes on wistfully. She turns away from the window and points at an antique violin hanging on the wall above the fireplace. “I used to have my music lessons in this very room. I helped my mother plant the hydrangeas in the garden. When I grew up, I inherited the property. You can imagine how enthusiastic I was to live out my days here. With the man I loved, of course.”
“Right, your missing husband. Archer mentioned?—”
“We were deeply in love once. Before it was all ruined. I married young. Some would say I went in blind about what I was getting myself into. It was love at first sight… or sound. He fell in love with me when he heard me play. It was at an overseas event in his home country.
“A gala dinner his family was hosting and that some of the richest people in the world attended. My family was no different. He said the music I made was just as beautiful as the woman I was. I did everything he ever wanted. His pretty little wife on his arm who smiled as he whisked her away from everything she’d ever known. Did you know this property was left barren for many years? Moss covered the walls when I finally returned.”
I’m lost as to what her point is. My gaze swings over to the grandfather clock ticking away across the room and I map out an exit strategy. The tea the server forced on me has grown cold and I’ve run out of what little patience I had…
“I had his children. I was always so prim, so obedient. I let him do as he wished. And yet… it all fell apart.” She strolls to various pieces in the room much like she had the first night I’d been brought to meet her. In front of a gold-gilded oval mirror on the wall, she says, “The fairytale ending I thought I was living was really just a lie. It shattered into a million little pieces before my eyes.”
“And you, what? Moved back here?”
“He said he never loved me. But still, so many years later, I ask, how is that so? How is it unreal when I can remember every moment so vividly? It had to have been real.”
“Look, none of this has anything to do with me. Thanks for the tea, but unless you’re going to discuss when I’ll be off this isle, I’m not interested.” I stand up from the chair to leave.
“So when you say you have no privilege, I would say you have quite the privilege. Perhaps you may not realize you do,” she says. “But the undying loyalty of two men is quite an advantage most women would only dream to have.”
My right brow ticks up. “You’re telling me I’m fortunate because of Archer and Ryu?”
“Some women would wield that power differently than you have. They would realize, as impassioned as men seem, there is a time limit on what holds their attention. You can leave this game any time you want to. If you played your cards right and used the power you have. For a chance at victory, you’ll be surprised at what they’d be willing to do. Tomorrow night is the masquerade for the Midnight Games finale. I trust you’re going to behave accordingly.”
“Are you telling me… you’re saying Archer and Ryu…?”
I can barely stammer out what I’m trying to ask before she interrupts and wishes me a good afternoon. The dismissal is made clearer by the server that steps forward to usher me out of the room.
The door swings shut, and I’m left flabbergast at what just happened.
Did the Hostess just try to do what I think she did? Did she just try to… help me out?
One look in the mirror, and I’m feeling myself. A spark of excitement lights me up at my reflection. I turn away and slip into my heels that complete the sleek designer dress I’m wearing. The back’s open and the burgundy red stuns against my complexion. I’ve colored my lips to match, my bob cut styled with a swoop that partially covers my right eye.
The moment I strut out of my room, I’m like a seductress in the flesh. Heads turn as I pass them by, making my way down the grand staircase a step at a time. I’ve missed the formal dinner, but that’s on purpose.
Tonight, I’m intentional. Every action, every move I make is for a reason.
