Page 11 of Vicious Heir

He probably could, plus a huge bonus—something she’d never get staying in this house. “I don’t know why you’d want to. You’re so pretty and smart. You can do anything.”

“Probably, but you need me. And I kind of like it here. You people are crazy.”

“Come on. I’m being serious.”

“I am too. That’s part of why I don’t quit. The second I try to be your friend outside of work, you’ll push me away like you do with everyone else.”

“That’s not true. I don’t push people away.”

“Isn’t it? Then why is the maid your best friend?”

I knock her with my knee. “Because I like you. Because I find it hard to connect with my peers. Because my name is too famous for a normal life, but too tainted for anything else.”

“I like you too, Lucy. That’s why I’m still here. Sure as heck isn’t the benefits.”

I look away and blink back tears. Years of relentless bullying, social ostracism, and a general ugly outcast status made it really hard for me to keep serious relationships. Kennedy’s my first real friend in a long time, and that’s still tainted by my money.

“I’m just nervous about what’s going to happen,” I say at last, unable to say what I really feel.

Which is:I’m afraid you’ll leave me like everyone else does.

“Don’t worry.” She laces her fingers into mine. “I’ll stab him in the throat if he so much as hurts your feelings.”

“Then he’s a dead man. How much do you know about my future husband?”

“Just that he’s a big deal.”

“Adriano Marino’s got the emotional intelligence of a horny bull.” That’s probably not fair or even true. The man I met last night was much more interesting than I thought he’d be, and it isn’t his fault I basically threw myself at him. Something about being at that stupid orgy made some of my walls come down.

At least enough to sleep with him.

Which is not a mistake I’ll make a second time.

“Then I’ll sharpen my knives.” She squeezes my hand, then gets out of bed. “Come on, you’re going to be late for your grandmother’s debriefing.”

I groan and let her pull me up. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Can’t disappointHelena Willing-Morrisnow can we?” She says it with an affected upper-class accent. It’s pretty terrible.

“Why, of course not, my dahling Kennedy. Else Grandmomma shall be rather cross with me.”

“Come, dahling, let’s get you dressed and presentable.”

We laugh together as Kennedy helps pick out my clothes, and by the time I’m ready, I’m feeling somewhat better.

Those good feelings evaporate the moment I see Grandmother sitting in the formal dining room with a ledger at her elbow, a cup of tea in her hands, and a scowl on her face.

“Mrs. Willing-Morris, Lucille is here to see you.” Kennedy introduces me in the stuffiest way possible and winks at me as she hurries past.

I stand near the top of the table. Grandmother’s at the other end. She stares at me, thin lips pursed, perfect silver-streaked hair coiffed around her thin skull, looking like the portrait of a rich old lady. Family diamonds sparkle at her throat and on her ears, and she’s wearing some god-awful old pantsuit made by a long-dead French designer.

Once upon a time, Helena Willing-Morris was the darling of Main Line Philadelphia. She was the queen of society, the baddest of all the baddies. She married well, though Grandpop died when he was only fifty of heart disease, no doubt in large part thanks to Grandmother’s sparkling personality. She gave birth to my mother, Savannah Willing-Morris, and has been the spine of what’s left of our family for fifty years now. She’s a shadow of her former self, though still as clever and vicious as always, except she’s now a steward of a sinking ship, a captain desperate to repair the leaks before we all drown and willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

“Tell me how it went,” she says, nodding at a chair, which is my cue to speak.

I know better than to open with small talk. I sink into the indicated seat and begin talking. I tell her everything, from the moment I entered the club to the moment I met with Adriano.

“Tell me you had an encounter with him and that you didn’t embarrass yourself.”

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