Chapter 216

When I leave Archer’s room, he’s passed out asleep. He’d been up all night. I had no idea how he could be so awake even as he was, to drive me so wild with pleasure. I sneak out of his room without waking him and head back to my room to shower and change.

As I go through the motions of getting ready for the day, I can’t help but reflect on all the things I’ve recently learned.

Angela was adamant that I would be in danger if I left the Pyramid, but now everyone is saying the danger would be greater if I stayed. Why? What changed?

I know they mean to take on their father, the great and powerful Alpha King Hayes, but what exactly does that entail? Why would that make everything so dangerous? And if it’s too dangerous for me to stay, doesn’t that mean it’s dangerous for Mia as well?

I have so many questions, yet no one to turn to who I could trust to reliably give me answers. Neil already proved he would keep his mouth shut. Archer wouldn’t tell me even if he could. Beau would maybe tell me, but he might just as easily lie to me.

No, I need someone who I could depend on. As well as someone who might be the easiest to break.

Sorry, Steven, but you are the weakest link in the chain.

Once I’m showered and dressed, I leave my room and head straight for his. I knock on his door, then slip inside. He’s at his desk again, scribbling in his notebook. He looks up as I come instead, even as he continues to write with his pen. Somehow he stays in the lines without looking. It’s impressive, really.

“Chloe,” he says, like he’s surprised to see me. He immediately drops his gaze away. A hint of sadness rises in his face. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Don’t be,” I say. “I think I understand a little now.”

His head snaps back up. “You do?”

I shrug, attempting to look innocent. I have no idea how successful I am. “You guys are planning something, right? Something against your father?”

He pales slightly and rises from his chair. “Who told you that?”

“Does it matter? I’m right, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t answer, which would be more confirmation if I hadn’t already been 100% sure.

“Anything you can tell me,” I start to say.

He cuts me off. “I can’t say anything. Please, don’t ask me Chloe. There’s too much at stake.”

I press my lips together. When he says it like that, it makes me feel guilty for wanting to press him for information until he breaks.

Gods, maybe I should just trust them. I want to. But that would be so incredibly stupid, wouldn’t it?

The brothers have been tossing me around, playing mind games. I never get straight answers from them. And now, I want to just blindly trust them? What was wrong with my foolish heart? It’s getting embarrassing.

Steven hangs his head low. “I can’t tell you anything, Chloe, but I do want to apologize for what’s going to come. Tomorrow, specifically.”

Tomorrow? The day I’m to leave? “What’s going to happen then?” I ask.

“I can’t tell you. But I’m so sorry. For everything.” He turns away from me then, and walks back to his desk.

I feel strangely like I’m being dismissed, which doesn’t usually happen with Steven. Typically, he likes talking to me.

It hurts a bit, kind of like he slapped me.

Unsure of what else to do, I gather what’s left of my pride and head back out the doorway.

In the hallway, I run into Beau. He takes one look at me and his face falls. He doesn’t apologize like Steven did, but his face kind of looks like he wants to. He reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug instead.

With his face buried in the crook of my neck, he breathes me in.

My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why is everyone acting so strangely? It feels like someone died. No, scratch that. It feels like I’m about die.

What does everyone know that I don’t?

“Beau…?” I say, a question in my voice.

He doesn’t answer it. Instead, he squeezes me tighter for a moment. Then he releases me, turns away, and leaves me standing alone in the hallway.

I’m so confused, I’m getting a headache.

An hour later, I sit in a café across from Angela and tell her everything that I observed this morning.

As soon as I’m done speaking, Angela drops her head back to stare up at the ceiling. “Gods, those guys are so reckless.”

“Do you know what they are up to?” I ask. Angela is my last hope at knowing what is going on. If she doesn’t share her insight with me, I have no one left to turn to.

“I don’t know for certain,” Angela says. “But I can guess, knowing what I do know about them. I can’t believe they would be so stupid and shortsighted. But… well, maybe I can since they are who they are.”

“What do you think they are doing?” I press, hoping to bring her back on track. I’ve been stressing about this for so long, I’m so ready to be put out of my misery, for better or worse.

Angela pushes her dirty plate aside and leans forward, elbows on the table. It’s an unladylike gesture, but no one else in the restaurant is paying her any attention. I sure as hell don’t care.

“When you leave, Chloe, they are going to be absolute assholes to you. I’m talking, as bad if not worse than how they were when you first showed up.”

I blink in disbelief. That’s… not what I expected her to say. But thinking about it now. Okay, maybe that would explain a few things. Everything except, “Why?”

“They are going to push you away so it looks like they don’t care about you,” she says. “They’re going to convince everyone, even you, presumably, that they couldn’t care less what happens to you. This way, I imagine, they’ll think you’ll be safe.”

I’m hearing her words. I’m comprehending her meaning. I still don’t understand.

Those reckless, careless assholes are going to be purposefully cruel to protect me?

“Would that even work?” I ask. I can feel my anger rising inside of me like lava bubbling up in an active volcano. They couldn’t tell me about this? They didn’t trust I could pretend?

Or do they really want me to think they are jerks? That it might help me turn my back on them instead of worry about them when they were locked in contention with their father?

Assholes. Foolish, short-sighted, self-sacrificing bastards.

Where is my choice? My decision?

“They want to protect you from a jealous public,” Angela says. “Don’t forget how angry everyone was that you were selected to be the nanny about all others.”

“I don’t care what other people think.”

Angela shrugs. “Well, this might also help protect you from their father. If he believes that hurting you will not affect them, he’s more likely to leave you alone.”

Was this truly their plan? After all this time, this is the best they can come up with?

My blood boils.

I don’t need them to protect me. It’s past time I tell them so.