Page 45 of The Good Girl

“Do you understand me?” The warning in her voice is clear, and it feels like Randolph is seeing his daughter for the first time as he watches her wearily.

“Yes,” he fumes, his voice quieter now. “But this is not over. If you think I'll allow you to marry that boy—”

“I'll allow her. Hell, I'll even pay for the whole thing,” a soft feminine voice purrs as Adeline Montgomery sashays into the room, followed by four masked people. I recognize Devin Black and Rowan Hawthorne, however I can't tell who the others are in this lighting, but I'm not surprised. Randolph always did underestimate his wife, rookie mistake. Even I knew she had been up to something lately, her usually glassy exterior sharper, especially around Rowan or at Thorn House.

Adeline moves over to Lena, placing her hand on her daughter’s cheek softly for a moment before she plucks the knife gently out of her hand with what I would almost describe as a proud smile, before she places it back on its pedestal.

Taking a seat on the chaise lounge Lena and I were just making out on, Adeline crosses her leg, revealing a generous amount of skin as she leans forward and addresses her husband. “Lena will do whatever she wants with her life, Randolph. She is eighteen and has the potential to be someone incredible, I won't let you stamp that out for your own failing political gains.”

Are powerful women a kink? Because I think that’s my kink as Adeline exudes power and intensity. I can see where Lena gets her strength from, because in this moment Adeline Hawthorne is in charge and there is no doubt about it.

“Failing?” Her father sputters as he tries to rise, but one of the masked Society members pushes him back down with a chuckle. If Atlas were here, I’d be willing to bet that it was definitely Rowan behind that mask. It was common knowledge he’d never liked Randolph, while it was also glaringly obvious he adored his sister.

Looking at the rings on her fingers, Adeline sounds bored and unsympathetic as she explains, “The Council has decided that your reign must come to an end. You will not be participating in the elections this year, although you will be permitted to remain a member of The Society.”

“You can't—” Randolph tries to stand again, only to be shoved back down, harder this time. He continues screeching on his knees. “I am the head of this family! I am on The Council!”

“Oh, my dear, I can, and I have.” Adeline smiles, and it's almost predatory, the woman terrifies me. “You are looking at the new head of the family, darling. And I do not require your input at Council meetings.”

Randolph’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly as he tries to process the coup his wife has just successfully carried off. The Council was ruled by the heads of the founding families, they had chosen to include their spouses in the meetings over the years but by excluding him Adeline was effectively relegating him to nothing more than a regular member of The Society. He would no longer be privy to the inner workings of The Council. And he would no longer reap the same benefits. It was genius. She had essentially castrated him and stolen his throne, without spilling a drop of blood.

Leaning back, she addresses the masked men, “Devin, please escort the mayor back to his guests. The dancing has already begun, and he's missingallof the fun.”

They drag the sputtering, screeching, shouting man to his feet and haul him from the room. His voice echoing around as it bounced off the marble. I see Lena flinch with every curse he throws at them, and I offer her a small smile in the hopes of comforting her.

“Lena, we will talk about this later, since I would also like to use this opportunity to begin your Initiation. I know you aren’t twenty-one yet, but you are ready.” Adeline stands with a small sigh, fluffs her hair, and adjusts her mask. “However, I think it would be best if you go with Tristan this evening. Your father doesn't seem to understand the situation, and I feel like I may be up late tonight explaining it to him.In depth.”

Lena looks to me for a second, hesitant and unsure. I can see the wheels turning as she processed, replaying the whole evening over and over again in her head. Taking her hand with a grin, I pull her towards me, breaking her train of thought. Lena at my house? In my bed? I had no problem with that at all. In fact, seeing her tonight, watching as she claimed her independence, made me love her just that little bit more.

“Adeline, I want that knife,” I call out to Elena's mother as she leaves. Leaning in towards Lena, I whisper, “It looks so fucking hot in your hands.”

Turning, Adeline nods with a sinister smile. “I will make sure to put the bid in for you.”

* * *

We’ve not even been in my house for twenty minutes when I get a call from the security at the gate saying that Blythe is demanding to be let onto the property and is causing a scene.

“I have to go and deal with this, are you okay here on your own for ten minutes?” I ask Lena as I hand her a T-shirt and some shorts to change into.

She rolls her eyes and whispers ‘manwhore’ under her breath but nods with a small smile. I think it’s still sinking in, tonight’s events and how nothing is going to be the same again. Her father won’t be mayor for much longer, her mother is finally pulling rank, and Lena, well, Lena is free to do what she wants. The possibilities are endless.

Running down the stairs and out the door, I barely register the two empty wine glasses on my kitchen counter. My father is away until next week again, so thankfully I don’t have to worry about him just yet. The furniture for my apartment was arriving in a few days, and we could move there without even running into him, which meant I didn't need to be watching my back, worrying about Lena’s safety in my own house. God, that slimy fucker.

When I get to the gate, I can tell straight away that Blythe is off her face, she’s obviously been at a party and hit the drugs a little hard. Her hair is a mess and her makeup is smeared as she sways unsteadily. With everything finally falling into place, I didn’t have time for her drama. Not tonight.

“Tristan! Baby! Why won’t you answer my calls?” she screams as she sees me.

“Call an ambulance,” I say to the guy on security as I hand him my phone. She needed a lift and to get her stomach pumped. I wasn’t taking responsibility for her. “And here, this is the number for her parents.”

“Tristan!” Her hands come up to her face, and she claws at her cheeks. “Why?”

She throws herself at me, and I hold her for a moment, trying to regain my balance. “Why what?”

“Why not me?” she sobs as I lower us down and we sit on the sidewalk as we wait to see which turns up first, the paramedics or her parents. My money was on good old mommy and daddy.

Why were there wine glasses in my kitchen?

I stroke her hair gently and answer honestly, even though I know it just hurts Blythe more. “Because it’s always been her. Even when we were kids.”

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