Page 46 of Bite Me

“My dad is on my ass now because of your little show at initiation.” He motions to Emma, who is doing surprisingly well with her dough. “I have nothing on her.”

“Why would your dad be interested in her?”

“Not exactly sure I should tell you. I’m having trouble figuring out whose side you’re on at the moment.”

I fight a growl. Showing interest in Emma is the wrong approach. The more interest I show in her, the worse off she’ll be. It may be what my grandfather wants, but that could be directly opposed to what everyone else in Vviveren wants, including Luther’s father. I should have known my grandfather wouldn’t be the only interested party.

“Tell me, what is it about the Osborne girl that gets you so riled up? Verity tells me she’s talented, but she’s just a girl. Unless there’s something you’re not letting on . . . You know the Osbornes are on everyone’s radar.”

If Parker hadn’t come along to help them, their first few months would have been a nightmare. Now he’s in the way, and that makes everything harder for everyone, especially given his popularity. It’s always a popularity contest here. But there are ways around Parker’s protection, loopholes. If he weren’t Vviveren’s darling, I think there would be more violence involved.

“I do. I think it’s a little creepy that all these men seem concerned with the fate of three sisters. You know I hate initiations.”

That’s the downside of popularity. Now that there are more eyes on them, they’re valuable. And with their sweet blood, they’re pieces in a world that craves to take and conquer. These people care very little about what Emma and her sisters would like to do with their own blood.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You never went through initiation.”

“Why would I give anyone the opportunity to humiliate me and use it for their personal gain?” I move him off the counter. “In here, it’s about cooking. If I see you messing with her, I’ll have you removed permanently.”

He scoffs, biting his cheek and sizing me up. I don’t care if he hits me. As my grandfather says, “Gentlemen don’t fight with fists. We fight with money.” Luther knows if he lays a hand on me, I can take just about anything away from him.

“Want to see if I’m joking?”

“Nah, you don’t joke, boss. I get your message loud and clear.”

“Good. Now, fuck off. I want you to participate today, and you’re behind.”

“Yes, Chef.” He saunters back to his station with his shoulders rolled forward.

I stand at the back of the room to observe. What the fuck am I doing? There’s no winning either way. Helping Emma puts a target on her back, and not helping leaves her defenseless. Both feel wrong. Why am I doing this to myself?

I’m not sure how she manages to make it through the day. She’s an inch away from danger and destruction every other minute, but she moves through it with ease. Not easily frustrated, and surprisingly, not easily distracted either. She wants to be here for the right reasons. Her muscle memory shows in the way she holds her knife and measures her ingredients. It’s fluid. But talent doesn’t mean you get everything you want.

I need to crush her. It has to be done. She never stood a chance anyway, with her hopeful optimism, glitter under her eyes, and bright, shining smile. There’s no glitter today, but it’s still all over her in spirit. She’s glimmering as she hums, laser-focused.

I tune into prepping my station and let all the emotion drain from me. That’s how he taught me. Be numb. Shut it out. Work. Work till your fingers bleed. This place . . . These people will hurt her, and she’ll cry and blame herself, and it’s not my problem. Emma has never been my problem, and yet I keep putting myself in a position where I make her my problem.

Let her fail.

Let her cry.

Who cares?

She’s just one girl.

“Don’t dream, Dacre. Just do.”

It doesn’t matter what I want. I need to show her.

When I make my rounds again, I stop just behind her shoulder, ignoring that prickle of calm from her scent.

“You’re sloppy. Do it again. I want five hundred. Start from the beginning.”

“What? The beginning?” Her eyes widen. “This is my first time making pasta.”

“I know. I can tell.”

She blinks, sucking in a breath.