Ivy’s pov
I muttered under my breath, my raggedy black duster moving in vicious circles over the polished mahogany table in the living room, while I was glaring daggers at the bane of my existence, who was smirking at me across the living room.
It had been two days since the laundry room, since the jerk had fucked me so hard my soul left my body, and all he had done since then was smirk at me like he knew something I didn’t know.
He would walk by, murmur some infuriating little comment about my uniform being too tight or my ass looking distracting, and then just leave.
Oh, I was this close to sucker punching him in the pretty face. He was riling me up, winding me like a cheap watch, and I hated him for it. I hated how my body reacted, how a simple glance from him made my sore pussy clench in memory. I had barely managed to walk home, and the thought of now being his slave drove me insane.
Then there was the matter of the text I had received. I hadn’t gotten anyone after that first one.
"The Wisteria annual New Year’s gala is coming up..." A reporter’s voice droned on from the giant TV screen mounted on the wall.
The Starlight gala was an exclusive event that businessmen and celebrities looked forward to every year. It was so exclusive that my father could always only get one ticket. I had never attended.
Malachi was on one of the white sofas in the living room; his black jeans were a total contrast to the white sofa, and a black beaded necklace with a cross peeked from under his black T-shirt at me.
He leaned back against the headrest, his bandana tied tightly around his head, pushing his golden curls back up a little. His lips moved, but I knew that even though his hazel eyes were fixed on me, he wasn’t talking to me.
Oh no, no, he was discussing something with the cold, the mighty, the fortress of ice and solitude sitting in the carton brown armchair next to the white sofa.
Gideon sat ramrod straight in his armchair, wearing a black suit, his face so blank and stony, it might as well have been sculpted. His thick dark strands of hair lay perfectly on his head while he tapped on the screen of the sleek silver tablet in his large, veiny hand.
My sore pussy clenched harder, and I almost smacked myself in the face. Really? What happened in the laundry room was enough. I couldn’t afford to lose my head fucking the enemies of my father.
Roman had mysteriously disappeared over the last two days; I assumed he was busy, but I couldn’t help the curiosity gnawing at my gut, wondering what exactly he was doing.
As I moved to wipe the coffee table, Malachi’s eyes met mine. He had the absolute audacity to wink at me. My middle finger shot up while I mouthed, "Go fuck yourse-"
I froze mid-whisper when Gideon’s head turned in my direction, his sapphire eyes so piercing they felt like they were stripping me bare.
I suddenly felt like a ten-year-old caught drawing on the walls and lowered my middle finger quickly, fighting the blush coating my cheeks.
Malachi guffawed, throwing his head back, obviously enjoying whatever this was while his older brother called in a calm, deep baritone that was somehow intimidating as hell.
"Miss Harpley, could you get me a bottle of the Macallan from the bar?"
"Yes, Mr Knight," I nodded, scurrying over to the golden-yeah, another golden piece of furniture in the house- bar cart in the corner, my cheeks burning.
"Why are you never that obedient with me?" Malachi scoffed, and I swallowed down the retort, ignoring him, picturing putting him in a body bag instead.
I was fumbling with a heavy Macallan bottle full of golden colored whiskey when a voice boomed my name.
"Vivi!"
I turned to see Roman jogging into the room, his golden curly hair looking rather damp from a shower, a bright grin splitting his face. His
"Roman, at least report to me first," Gideon sighed, sounding like a long-suffering parent.
"Finally decided to grace us with your presence," Malachi drawled from the sofa.
Roman ignored them both, closing the distance in three strides and wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug.
He rubbed his cheek eagerly against mine, his familiar cinnamon scent flooding my senses. "I missed you! Did you not miss me? Not even a phone call, Vivi? Ah, you break my heart."
A helpless laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. "I didn’t even notice you were gone."
He gasped, releasing me and stumbling back dramatically. "She didn’t even notice! The cruelty!" He flopped onto the floor, sprawling out like a victim in some ugly tragedy.
"Ouch," Malachi cackled from the sofa.
While Roman was busy dying, I had forgotten all about getting Gideon his whiskey until he approached the bar cart. He stepped over Roman on the floor without a glance, his large frame suddenly eclipsing the golden light from the chandelier. "Get off the floor, Roman."
I held my breath when he stopped right beside me and reached past to get the whiskey bottle himself.
Oh my god, oh my god, I was going to melt into a puddle.
For three seconds, he was all I could sense. The world shrank to the space, the tiny millimeter of space between his huge body and mine.
The sleeve of his black suit jacket brushed my shoulder, his forearm coming up beside my waist, sending heat radiating from my waist through my entire body.
How could he smell so good? How could a movement last an eternity and yet still be over in a heartbeat?
He grunted as he uncapped the bottle, and I stammered, "Sorry, sir, I was just getting it for you."
He didn’t answer, just took the bottle and moved back to his seat. My fingers folded into my palm, digging my nails in it. That was what I got for respecting assholes.
Roman bounced off the floor and was about to start fawning over me again when the volume on the massive TV suddenly blared.
"...business magnate Felix Kingsley was spotted today arriving at the Global Economic Summit in Geneva. He’s also a VIP guest for the Wisteria New Year-"
The playful glint vanished from his hazel eyes so fast it made me dizzy. His smile evaporated, replaced by a cold, murderous look that sent a real chill down my spine. He took a step away from me, turning towards Malachi, who was holding the remote to the TV.
"Louder,"
Malachi sucked air through his teeth as he cranked up the volume. "Fucking bastard," he snarled, his eyes glued to the screen. "We’re going to pick him apart bone by bone."
A chill swept down my spine. Why... Why did they look so hateful?
My eyes flicked over the Gideon; his face looked as blank as ever, and I wouldn’t have known he was furious if I hadn’t noticed his knuckles were white where he gripped his whiskey glass. I watched, horrified, as a tiny crack spiderwebbed across the crystal glass.
I knew they were my father’s enemies.
I just never knew they hated him this bad. What exactly happened between Dad and the Knight brothers?
Ring, ring!
My phone let out a shrill sound from my apron pocket; the sound was even unnaturally loud in the tense silence. All three heads whipped toward me in perfect, terrifying sync. I flinched, clutching my apron.
"Excuse me," I mumbled, backing out of the living room.
Jesus Christ! If they found out I was a Kingsley, they would tear me apart. Once I found a small corner in the hallway, I whipped out the phone.
"Terrible timing," I whispered, seeing FATHER glaring at me from the screen. I took a shaky breath and swiped to respond. "Hello Father-"
"Tell me you’ve got the ledger and the only reason you’re still in that house is to get me something else."
My stomach dropped. I swallowed, trying to think of what to say. He was disappointed. "I’m on it, Father; it’s so hard to get access to the laptop-"
"You’ve been there for almost a month! Father snapped, and I winced.
"I’m sorry. I’ll work harder-"
"I don’t need your vain excuses. I knew I should have sent Jacob."
I could hear the tinge of disappointment in his voice. Tears stung the corner of my eyes, but I fought them back with every fibre of my being. "I’ll get it. I promise. I just need to get the laptop-"
"Do not fail me again."
The line went dead. I stood there, shaking, the phone clutched in my hand.
"Get what laptop?"