Page 17 of Filthy Elites

Hell. The last thing I want is for my mother to meet Isabelle. What if she recognizes her? Knowing her secret is too good of a trump card. I don’t want to lose the upper hand, since I just started having fun with her.

“What makes you think we’re friends?”

She gives me a droll stare. “I don’t expect you to be. But she knows who I am. She won’t pass up the opportunity to meet a legend.”

Uncle Florian snorts. “Aren’t you full of yourself? You’re a has-been. No one knows who you are, dear.”

Her glare intensifies, and I know they’re a second away from starting an ugly argument. But Grandpa steps between them.

“Enough with this bickering. I’m ready to fucking eat.” He turns to my aunt. “Stop drowning in vodka and get the staff to serve dinner already, Marissa.”

Finn winces but knows better than to say anything in his mother’s defense. For starters, he idolizes Grandpa, and like everyone in this room, he’s aware of Aunt Marissa’s alcohol problem.

I step closer to him and whisper, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost my appetite.”

For more reasons than one, but mostly because there isn’t a way out of introducing Isabelle to my mother, which means giving her the opportunity to find my weaknesses. I can’t allow that.

ChapterNine

Nicola/Isabelle

Last nightafter Jason left my room, I panicked and packed all my stuff. He’s not going to share my secret yet, but what happens when he gets tired of playing with me or demands more than I can give?

But seeing my room stripped bare and the little I have left in suitcases made something snap inside of me. I can’t let Jason destroy my second chance at having a life. I also can’t keep running. I have to stand up to him.

It took me a while to unpack, and by the time I got to bed, I was too exhausted to think about my problems.

On my way to grab breakfast before class, I have an epiphany. The best way to deal with Jason without getting hurt is to discover why he hates me so much. I know there are people who don’t need reasons to be cruel. Juan was the perfect example. But I saw Jason interact with his cousin and his cousin’s friends. He cares about them. And he brought me to the nurse when I fainted that first day.

A psychopath wouldn’t do any of that.

There’s a deli near campus that sells the most amazing sandwiches, and the coffee is good. No wonder it’s a popular spot among Maverick students. I have time, so I decide to eat outside. Most people are taking food to go.

I’m not wearing my brown contact lenses this morning, so I keep my sunglasses on. The lenses are in my purse so I can put them on in my car before I head to class. My eyes need a serious break from them.

I wish I could say I’m not on edge anymore, but there’s a tension in my body that won’t go away. I pull my phone out and stick the Airpods in my ears. Maybe some classical music will help me calm down. Nervous people don’t make good decisions. I need to bring my A-game if I’m to win the war against Jason.

It takes me a while, but eventually, the music helps me relax. I’m lost in my bubble, enjoying breakfast, when the bane of my existence pulls up a chair and sits across from me.

I look up and glower. “This is getting old.”

He smiles. “Good morning to you too.”

“What do you want now?”

“Chill. I’m just here for breakfast.”

I notice then that he indeed has a tray of food in front of him. It’s greasy and smells delicious—better than mine actually. I went with a healthier option. Jason loaded up on bacon, eggs, and sausage. His cup of coffee is larger than mine too.

Taking into account his food choices and his messier-than-usual look, I can guess he had a wild evening yesterday. “Rough night?”

“You can say that.”

He takes a huge bite of his sandwich, and half of it spills out, smearing egg all over his face. I find myself staring at him as if I’m in a daze. Damn him for looking sexy when he should look like a slob.

“Whuh?” he asks with his mouth half full.

I shake my head and focus on my food. “Nothing.”

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