Page 83 of Pretty Secrets

I glare back at him, and he shuts his mouth so fast his teeth clack together.

When I turn back around, my temper flares again, but this time for a very different reason. Vincent sits at the huge oval-shaped table in the middle of the room. I slam the door behind the four of us and stare.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in here, Barclay? Cousin?”

Barclay takes the more diplomatic approach. “Leonardo and I were tasked with making sure she gets through Trials. We’re staying.”

My cousin peers up, leering, before a smile breaks out over his face. “At least you passed this time.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

This makes him laugh. There was a time when Vincent and I were close. But he fell in line when the rest of the family started to diss my father’s line. Just like that. We weren’t even teenagers yet, and he already knew when to follow the herd. “Please, sit,” he says, gesturing toward the chairs across from him.

Eden and Oliver take a seat while Barclay and I flank them on either side. Surprisingly, Barclay has a don’t-fuck-with-me-face too, and he’s currently directing it straight at my cousin. His jaw twitches, though, and it suddenly dawns on me that this may not be Trials related at all. If Grandfather found out Eden and Oliver saw him with Anne-Marie, this could be bad.

Vincent doesn’t speak right away. He takes his time inspecting Eden. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch or squirm. She just glares right back. The thing with Eden is, she’s dealt with difficult shit before. Vincent has been coddled his whole life. If he thinks he’s going to intimidate her, he’s wrong. She’s already harder than he is. Stronger.

“Are you ready for your next Trial?” he finally asks.

“We’re here,” Eden states simply, not giving off any nervous vibes or insecurities. Oliver isn’t either. The only tell he has is that he’s leaned into Eden more, as if he can shield her from everything.

That’s where Oliver has it wrong. Thinking you’re always going to be someone’s savior is a battle you’ve lost before you’ve even begun. Life just doesn’t work that way.

“We’re calling this the Favor Trial,” Vincent states matter-of-factly. “It’s quite easy, actually. Each Knight has a favor he needs done. To prove you’re one of the team, you’re going to perform the favor, no questions asked. Failure to do so will result in your elimination from the Trials. You cannot receive outside help from your team members,” he adds, glaring at me and Barclay.

I grind my teeth together, wondering how Vincent’s favor will impact Eden? He’s such a sneaky son of a bitch. I would never willingly owe him something like this.

“What’s the favor?” she asks, lifting her chin. The way she peers down at him makes my dick hard. I’ve been wanting to fuck him over since he left me behind, but he’s currently Grandfather’s second in command, which means I’ve had to defer to him for too long.

He pulls a folder from his lap and slides it in front of Eden and Oliver. “In that folder is the name, address, and picture of a woman. She gave birth three months ago, and I need to know the results of the paternity test she’s currently keeping from me.”

“Why is she keeping it from you?”

Vincent’s hand turns into a fist, and I start to growl. He ignores me, zeroing in on Eden. “I said no questions asked. The other paper is the name and address of the doctor’s office in which I have received intelligence confirming that the results are located.”

“Then what?” Eden asks, sifting through the folder calmly, then moving it toward Oliver. “Get rid of them?”

“Just document,” he responds. “The instructions are also in the folder. You have twenty-four hours to complete the favor. I’ll meet you back in this room at this same time tomorrow.”

He stands, buttoning his suit jacket and looking pompous as fuck. He strolls past me, flashing that signature Jarvis fuck-you smile. “Good luck.”

He leaves the room, and to my surprise, it’s Barclay who lets out a growl.

The three of us watch him as he loses his shit, spinning to slam his fist into the wall. He does it again and again, the skin splitting his knuckles.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eden stammers. She dodges his fist coming back, reaching for it to stop its forward motion. As soon as he feels her touch on him, his body deflates.

We all just stare. I’m more than curious what this outburst means. Before I can come to any conclusions, he reaches over, grabs the folder, and marches toward the door. “We should tell him to clean up his own messes. Or not fuck someone he’s unwilling to take responsibility for.”

Okay, so it’s the kid aspect. I wrack my brain, trying to remember if there’s anything going on in the Barclay line that would make him react like this, but I come up blank. His line is squeaky clean, actually. They’re one of the fortunate ones who haven’t had to resort to unsavory alliances or secrets.

Or are they?

I reach forward, grabbing his wrist to stop him from leaving. “Calm the fuck down before we go out there.” He turns crazy eyes on me, but I incline my head toward Eden. If he’s here for the right reasons, he’ll care about what happens to her, and leaving this room angry would make us stick out. “Eden and Oliver have to do the job. They’re not getting out of this.”

“I’m sick of this world,” he pants. “Twisted psychopaths.”

He’s either a decent actor or he truly believes what he’s saying. I’m good at reading people, and I think he’s telling the truth, but I’m still not ready to make friendship bracelets with him yet.

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