Page 61 of Marry Lies
I was getting tired of feeling like Beauty—locked up in the castle, forbidden to go to certain areas of the house.
So, instead of responding to emails or drawing more sketches, I spend the morning Googling everything I can about the Ravage family. I read all about Charles Ravage’s trial—how he lost a lot of people’s money in bad business deals, was formally charged in court, but was then acquitted.
I find out that their mother, Felicity, died nearly five years ago. There’s no cause of death, but apparently she was only in her late fifties. There’s a picture of her, and she had long, brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Tall, lithe, and stunning. It’s no wonder all the Ravage brothers look like models. Even Charles is handsome now in his seventies. Pulling up an older picture of him, it nearly takes my breath away to see how much Miles resembles a young Charles.
Felicity remarried when Miles was in his early twenties, but Orion, the youngest, was only fourteen.
I bookmark my research on him, noting that he and I are the same age.
Chase and Miles are discussed the most online, since their company is public facing. Tabloids, gossip articles…the gossip is endless.
Juliet briefly told me about how she’d known Chase Ravage most of her life because he was best friends with her brother, but that she didn’t know Miles or the other brothers very well. I keep digging, pulling up some poetry books that Liam has published and ordering them.
Moving onto the other brothers, I’m surprised to find that Malakai, the middle brother, works as the headmaster of Saint Helena Academy—a Catholic private school here in Crestwood. He’s an ordained pastor, unmarried, and there’s almost nothing about him online.
Finally…Orion.
There are a few articles about him, and in every one of them, he appears drunken or otherwise involved in some sort of misconduct. Apparently, Felicity remarried a man who had a daughter a little bit younger than Orion, so there are a few pictures of the brothers out and about with their stepsister, Layla.
There’s not much on her, either.
After an hour of digging, I do find a mention of an accident that happened over twenty years ago—something for which Miles was hospitalized. Again, it doesn’t go into details, but he was in the hospital for months.
Months.
What happened to him? Is it the cause of his scars? If he was in the hospital for months, surely that means the injury was way more extensive than he’s letting on.
I ruminate on the information, sitting on the pink couch as I listen to one of my favorite smutty audiobooks.
But getting all worked up by listening to the audiobook is the wrong thing to do, because by the time dinner rolls around, I’m thoroughly turned on. Debating if I have time to use my vibrator, I quickly decide not to. I’m sure Miles will disappear into the cellar after dinner—or wherever else he goes—and I will have the living quarters to myself.Again.
I’d changed into faded jeans and a cropped yellow jumper, leaving my hair in a top knot. I glance at myself in the mirror quickly before heading down, realizing that my chest is all splotchy from my smutty book.
Wonderful.
I take the stairs the three flights down, opting not to take the elevator. When I get to the ground floor, I walk slowly past the various living and sitting rooms. Farther back, toward the kitchen, are a few rooms with doors. One of them has a sign that indicates it’s an office, so I look both ways to ensure the coast is clear before I push the door open.
It’s a generic office that’s full of beiges and light wood. The plaque on the desk readsLuna Hernandez, and for a second, I feel guilty for snooping through Luna’s office…but my curiosity about the cellar is burning a hole through my brain.
I quickly walk over to the desk, pulling the first drawer open and gasping when I see an assortment of things such as paper clips, pens, Post-its, and…keys.
Not all of them are labeled, though, and I quickly filter through them.
Front gate. Back gate 1. Back gate 2. Garage—Spare. East Wing. Executive Suite. Office 1.
“Come on,” I mutter, glancing up at the door before pilfering through the rest of the keys.
My eyes widen when they snag on a brass key with the label,Cellar—Spare.
Bingo.
I pocket it and leave the office quickly, feeling both elated and nervous for what I’ll discover.
Better to suss out anything untoward now, anyway. Knowing Miles, it’s something completely boring like a gym or man cave.
But…what-if it’s not?
There’s something about him that he keeps hidden away from everyone. I can tell he keeps something—or a few things—hidden close to his heart. He’s closed off, but there’s a reason.
