Page 33 of Bite Me

My attention turns to Emma again. That glowing smile.

“Fine. Thanks for the heads up. Now, what do you want?”

“My father needs a sizable donation for his upcoming charity ball, and I mentioned your grandfather as a possible donor.”

Our families have never gotten along. His father thinks my grandfather is a tyrannical asshole, and well . . .

I chuckle. “If you think I’m going to be able to get something like that from my grandfather, you’re drunk.”

“I do have more information to offer if I can get the guarantee of a bid.”

“There’s more?”

“What do we say, five hundred grand as the lowest offer?”

“Fuck off.”

“I don’t know. A certain Osborne might need a helping hand,” he says, taking a long sip of his drink.

It is about Emma. And he’s torturing me.

“Fine.” I draft an email to my grandfather’s assistant and show it to him. “Happy?”

“Glowingly. In a group chat I frequent, there was talk about some paperwork that will be landing in front of her soon, and it would be in her best interest not to sign.”

“Five hundred grand should buy a little more than that.”

“I think loopholes might lead to some unpleasant doctor visits. The kind that dredges up bad memories for them.”

“Someone is trying to trick her into signing up for the Donor Program?”

I know about Emma’s mother. Once a normal program participant, she became a darling after her death, and she died too young. I don’t need to ask to know that’s why none of them are in the program.

If Darien is telling the truth, and I believe he is, that’s really fucked up.

He shrugs. “I’m no detective, but I’m sure the truth will come to light very soon.”

I send the email and glare while he wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Ah, how lucky am I to be friends with an Everhart?”

“Yeah, yeah, asshole.”

As he slinks away into the shadows like the snake he is, I notice the emptiness in the air. Emma’s scent is gone.

I find her on the other end of the house, dancing on a table, her hands in her hair, and twisting her hips. Fuck, she’s beautiful.

A momentary lapse in judgment.

Her family is nowhere to be seen, while the culinary club members around here are taking pictures and cheering her on.

“Dacre. I didn’t know you were coming.” Luther’s wide-eyed expression is all I need to see.

He’s planning something.

“Move.” I nudge him out of the way.

I steady Emma as she wobbles on top of the table.