Page 23 of Princes of Sin
It was all over the media for days–pictures of my mum, my dad, and me.
I kept my hair short and blonde when I was homeless–a vast difference from the healthy teenager with long, straight, dark brown hair.
And then, of course, it actually did turn grey.
No one ever put two and two together.
And as Sterling’s eyes narrow even further, I realize that I have to play my part until I can do to him what he did to my parents.
If there’s one thing I do well, it’s survive.
“Yes. Their car accident,” I say quickly.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he adds, eyes pinning me to the spot. Before I can thank him, he turns and walks out of the classroom–leaving me a shaking, anxious mess.
Fuck.
Why do I feel like Sterling knows more than he’s letting on? Surely, there’s no way he remembers me–especially now that I’m older and my hair is completely different.
Then again, this is the Lords of Darkness we’re talking about.
I should know better than anyone that they always have the upper hand.
There’s a reason they always come out on top.
Now I just have to hope that I get the upper hand for long enough to take action against them.
Once I’m back at Thorn manor, I finally get to fully take in my surroundings. The house is large, and despite the stuffy architecture, the furnishings are modern and cozy. Even so, a house of this grandeur…
And it belongs to Max and Otto?
I close my eyes briefly and take a calming breath.
It’s not actuallythatsimilar to the house I grew up in, but parts of it make my chest ache with nostalgia.
That house is gone.
My parents are dead.
I have one objective for being here, and getting sentimental won’t help me.
As I walk up the stairs, I gather my resolve and strength and keep my expression neutral as I walk down the hallway. I have no idea which room is mine, so I peek inside all of the bedrooms, assuming someone took our bags up. One of the doors is cracked, and I see Quinn talking to someone on the phone. Further down the hallway, I hear Max and Otto talking, though I can’t make out what they’re saying. When Otto sees me passing by the door, he winks at me.
I’m a bloody idiot because the sight of it makes my stomach flop.
Lachlan’s room must be the one with the closed door, so I open the slightly ajar one next to it.
The bedroom is large but not ostentatious. There’s a four-poster bed, a large window overlooking the back garden, and a large wardrobe on the opposite wall. My suitcase is sitting on top of the bench at the foot of the four-poster, and after I’m done slowly walking around the bedroom, I pull the curtains closed and sit down on the bed.
Even though I look different now–even though it’s been ten years, it’s a habit to lock myself away behind doors, curtains, and windows.
Blend in.
Head down.
People don’t ask questions when you don’t present yourself as interesting.
Since we have our first lesson in less than an hour, I remove my workout clothes and grab my shower things. With my shampoo clutched to my chest, I walk to the door to my ensuite, pushing it open and yelping as Lachlan steps out of the shower.
