Page 57 of Pretty Secrets

Not him.

“Do I have to sit around waiting for this reward?” Eden asks. “Will it just drop on my doorstep?”

“You’ll be waiting forever if it’s cock,” Leo grunts again. I’m beginning to think he has more of a stake in this than I originally assumed. Could she be breaking the tough guy down? Is he also jealous as fuck?

“I get a reward too, don’t I?” I ask, drilling Eden with an amused gaze. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Knights rewarded the guys with sex and the girls with something else. Maybe a frilly apron? Maybe the opportunity to suck their cocks? That sounds more up their alley.

Eden blinks at me, tilting her head as if she’s trying to figure me out.

I’m not an idiot. Having sex with someone else right now would ruin my chance with her—if I even have one. But the idea that I might be able to make her jealous is like a wrapped present in my lap.

Alaric and Leo peer at me quizzically, but I just shrug. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

Eden takes a deep breath. I wish I could see inside that brain of hers, understand why she didn’t pick me yesterday after I had her creaming on my thigh under the stairwell.

Maybe I just don’t understand Eden Astor as much as I thought I did.

I glance at Alaric. “Did you ever say the second thing that’s about to happen today? Or did we all just get sidetracked?”

“We’ll put our Anne-Marie plan into motion.”

“That’s a reward too,” Eden grins.

“Yes, but it’s not a Knight-sanctioned one. No one can know we’ve done it,” he warns.

“I’m sure plenty of people want to put that princess in her place,” she muses.

Anne-Marie’s squeal of laughter at Eden’s scream still hardens my bones. Bitch deserves whatever she gets. Why in the fuck would you celebrate someone else’s sorrow? There’s no reason for it. Especially since I know Eden’s never done anything to that uptight cunt. How could she? She’s been living across the country for two years. Plus, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’s run away from shit like that her whole life.

Alaric checks his watch. “Well, if we want to do that thing we discussed, we really need to get going.”

“Aren’t you guys breaking some Knights rules here?” I ask, contemplating the plan we came up with last night. Apparently, Alaric knows that Anne-Marie’s father gets a happy ending from his secretary every day after lunch.

When I questioned why we were going after her father instead of her, the unanimous reply was that if you want to hurt her, you go straight to the top. Right now, Anne-Marie is sitting high and mighty in the eligible-wifey category. She’ll be the next to get swooped up, driven in a Bentley to her new mansion where she’ll more than likely decorate it with something akin to pink unicorns. In Anne-Marie’s world, that’s what she was bred to do.

“Plenty,” Alaric stews. “That’s why I said we have to be quiet about this.”

Even if I don’t trust Leo, Alaric is growing on me. The way he took care of Eden after yesterday’s Trial made it clear he’s on our side—at least for now.

I check on Eden again, gaze dropping to her feet. Mine are killing me this morning, but at least the worst of it is gone. “You sure about this?” I ask her.

She nods.

The thing about anyone with power and prestige, everyone likes to exploit it. No one ever wants to be outed, though. If we gather evidence of his affair and pass it around, her family will have to draw back for a little while, which means Anne-Marie gets dropped from the shining-diamond category and goes back into the hole where she belongs.

It’s actually quite devious.

It’s hitting Anne-Marie right where it would hurt most.

Eden and I leave to get dressed. We’re posing as a power couple that has an important meeting with the head of the Kennedy family. When we drop by unannounced, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to get our evidence. Alaric and Leo were out of the question. Alaric would get recognized if he walked into the building, and Leo would be turned away at the door. When you look like a ruffian, you get treated like one. Instead, those two will be working in the background, making sure nothing will be traced back to us.

After I dress, I knock on Eden’s door. “Come in,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Entering, I drink up her form. She’s swathed in a forest green, knee-length dress that wraps around her midsection and flares out. Flicking those beautiful blue eyes at me, she looks like she could cry at any minute.

Swallowing, she turns away. “It’s Dee’s.”

“You look beautiful in it, and I’m sure she did too.”

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