Page 78 of Twisted Control

Levi shakes his head, muttering “fucking idiot” under his breath before looking down at Theo. “Come on. Inside.”

The second we’re back in the car and the doors click shut, I turn to Drew.

“What is his problem?” I ask.

Drew starts the engine. “Problem? That’s him being polite. He’s in a good mood today.”

“But he called you a fucking idiot?”

“That’s him saying thanks.”

Right.

I nod, still trying to process their bizarre relationship, when movement outside the car catches my eye.

The door to the massage parlor opens. A man steps out, head down, adjusting the front of his trousers. It takes me a second to realize it’s Wren.

Jasmine’s Wren.

My stomach plummets.

He walks down the sidewalk like it’s nothing—just another casual stop in his day—as if he hadn’t just come out of a place like that.

There’s always been something off about Wren. I’ve always thought that he’s slimy. He’s too pleased with himself. Like he’s been getting away with things no one has ever called him on.

Turns out, I was right.

I need to tell Jasmine.

22

GRACE

It’s the next night, and I’m enduring what can only be described as a hostage situation disguised as family dinner.

The three of us are sitting at the long, ridiculously formal dining table like polite strangers who happen to share DNA. Dad at the head, Finn and I on opposite sides, carefully avoiding eye contact. On our plates: plain grilled chicken breast, sad steamed vegetables, and absolutely zero seasoning.

Finn’s still in his work suit, tie loosened, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s barely been home since he got back from his work trip. He’s probably spending every spare second with that older woman. I, of course, am pretending I know absolutely nothing about it.

Dad cuts into his sad little chicken breast and clears his throat.

“You’re both coming to the Elder’s Children’s Hospital Gala this weekend at the Westmere.”

Finn doesn’t even look up from his plate. “Can’t. I’ve got plans.”

Dad’s knife freezes mid-air. “Something more important than supporting your sister?”

Finn finally glances up. “Supporting her how, exactly?”

“This is a big night for Grace,” Dad says smoothly. “It’s her first public appearance with Charles.”

My fork slips from my fingers and clatters dramatically onto the plate.

“What?” I squeak.

Dad beams like he’s delivering the best news in the world. “He’s very impressed with you. He told me your conversation about your future together has him quite excited.”

I blink. The conversation where I told him I planned to eat dessert for every meal and chop my hair into a pixie cut the day after my wedding? That conversation?