Waverly reads me with a cockeyed smile and squinted eyes.
“Sometimes we do what we have to do in order to survive, and sometimes we surprise ourselves when we realize how far we’re willing to go to set ourselves free. Because of Dane, we get to live our lives exactly the way we want. No polygamy. No AUB. No sneaking around, hiding from the public. Our lives finally belong to us. This is freedom, Waverly. We’re finally free.”
The shower shuts off in the bathroom. Jensen will be out any minute.
“How’d you know about Jensen and me?” she asks.
“Because you look at him like he’s the greatest thing in the whole world. Amongst other things…”
Her cheeks flush deep pink, and she buries her face in her palms like I read her diary.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t need to be ashamed anymore. We only get one life. If being with Jensen makes you happy, then that’s what you should do. And he’s not even technically our stepbrother if you want to get into the logistics of it.”
A voice buzzes through speakers built into the walls.
“Mademoiselle Miller?” Mathilde’s French accent cuts through the room. “The car is ready.”
“Where are you headed tonight?” Waverly takes me in from head to toe.
“I’m accompanying Dane to a private dinner party.”
“Let me see your shoes.”
I pick up the train of my midnight dress, revealing rhinestones covering the four-inch heels on my feet.
She smiles. “Gorgeous.”
I slip my arms around my sister, holding her tight.
“Have fun, Bell.” She hugs back, squeezing harder than I’ve ever been squeezed before.
I back away, gathering the silk fabric of my dress and floating out the door and down the stairs to where my date is wearing the most debonair all-black tuxedo I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Stunning.” He reaches for my hand when I get to the landing only this time he threads our fingers together.
THIRTY-FIVE
DANE
I wake next to Bellamy this morning for the second time in a row.
Our weekend was packed with rescuing and debriefing her sister, ensuring her sister’s boyfriend made it here all right, and then I whisked her away to a party thrown by one of my senator friends.
Men stared at Bellamy all night, and why wouldn’t they? A slinky black dress dripped off her curves, and she was iced in more diamonds than a De Beers heiress. She stole the show, and she never left my side once.
“I had some of your clothes transferred here,” I call to her as she struts to the bathroom.
“You really did think of everything,” she calls out over the spray of the shower a second later.
We get ready for work side by side like some ordinary, vanilla couple, and for the first time, I don’t particularly mind it.
Matter of fact, I think I could get used to this.
I stare at the strange man in the mirror and give him a wink, just to make sure he’s real because I sure as fuck don’t recognize him or his unfamiliar thoughts.
***
An email from the Crystal Swan arrives the second I get to the office. It’s automated and one that kicks in if you haven’t been by the club after a certain amount of time. It’s the first time in two years that I’ve received this email, and the only thing about my life that’s changed in those two years is the introduction of Bellamy Miller.
Within ten minutes, I’m knocking at the black door, my keycard in hand. I’m cancelling my membership today, but first, I have a bit of business to tend to.
“Welcome back, Master Townsend,” the hostess dressed in all white coos. She scans my badge and glances down at the screen. “Looks like we haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Is Jenessa in today?”
The white swan smiles. “Why, yes she is. She’s about to perform in the Hayworth Room.”
The Hayworth Room is named for the founding member of the Crystal Swan. There’s a small stage and seating for no more than eight. It’s where I first met Jenessa Dubrow, and it’s where I’ve been coming for the last two years to remind myself over and over not to make the same mistake twice.
Every time I see her, I remember.
And every time she sees me, I hope she remembers too.
I turn down the west hall and set out toward the Hayworth Room. This time of day, there’s hardly more than a handful of men sitting in on her show.
Today, it’s just me.
She sits on a barstool, center stage, dressed in all white leather with a white, feathered mask hiding her eyes. But I don’t have to see her eyes to sense the weight of her stare.
The doors close behind me, indicating it’s show time, and I take a seat directly across from her. If evil were a creature incarnate, she’d be wrapped in beautiful lies and called Jenessa.
“Haven’t seen you in weeks, Master.” She breaks her silence. It’s the first time since we ended our relationship that she’s had the gall to speak to me. Maybe the fact that we’re alone again for the first time in years gives her the nerve to try and strike up a conversation. “I missed you watching me.”
“For some reason I doubt that.” My arms fold, and I press my back against the chair. Today marks the first time in forever that I can look at her and feel nothing but numbness. The sharp bite of regret and the sting of deception suddenly feels stale.
Her fingertips trail down her backside, teasing me. “I mean it. I miss you. Despite everything.”
“Despite…everything.” I spit her words back at her, twisting them across my tongue slowly.
“You’re the only master who could ever push all the right buttons for me.” She pokes a long leg straight out, pointing her toe and dragging it back like a graceful ballerina. A feather-covered basket rests next to her. Props mostly. She glances down at them and back at me.
“No.”
Her berry lips pout, and she coils a strand of icy blonde hair around her manicured finger. “What if I begged?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you here?”
It’s a damn good question, but I’ll be damned if I ever give her the answer she craves.
“I’m not here because you turn me on. I’m not here because I want you back,” I say. “I’ve been coming to remind you, on a weekly basis, what a disgusting person you are.”
Her dark lips curl into a wide smile. “So you’ve been punishing me all this time?”
My jaw clenches tight.
“You should’ve told me. I may have enjoyed it a bit more.” Her words lack an ounce of remorse in their playful undertone, and I’m quite certain she’s not capable of feeling shame for any of her actions.
“You have to regret the crime to appreciate the punishment.”
“I regret a lot of things.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” Jenessa pulls her swan mask off, but I refuse to meet her siren gaze.
She didn’t just hurt me.
She destroyed me.
Every part of me.
“Is that an apology, because it sure as fuck doesn’t sound like one.” My jaw tenses, refusing to release.
I gave Jenessa Dubrow the part of me I’d never given a single woman in my entire adult life, and in return, she filled my head with promises and life-altering lies. I may have dominated her physically, but she dominated me emotionally and otherwise since the day she begged her way into my life.
To this day, I’m not sure how something so artificial could feel like the realest thing in the world. My entire experience with Jenessa served only to teach me that love is an illusion.
I rise, adjusting the knot of my tie and clearing my throat. “Tell Dane Junior I said hello.”
Jenessa opens her mouth to speak, but I leave the room before I have a chance to hear her out.
What she did was unforgivable.
Fucking me, worshipping my mind, body, and soul, and then declaring that she was carrying my child when all along it belonged to her fucking husband. The only man who truly dominated her and the only man to whom she ever truly belonged. It was all an act. A ruse. A way of manipulating a man with more money than God to cough up enough coinage to keep them living in the lap of luxury until the child was five months old.