Stolen Lies (Fates of the Bound 2)
Page 131
But he couldn’t, and he should never have trusted her at all.
Max was right. She’d been around Tristan and Dixon for too long. Not only was she not covering herself as she should, she was risking herself and others. And for what?
When had everything gotten so damn complicated?
She laid her head against the headrest, letting traffic pass her by, lost in thought.
Half an hour later, Lila awoke with a start, her engine cold.
Chapter 24
Lila stole through the front door of the great house, her countenance as grouchy as her mood. It was nearly midnight, far too late for anyone to be awake downstairs on a Thursday night. She didn’t care if Ms. O’Malley or Isabel saw her, or even if the cameras saw her. She didn’t really care if anyone saw her.
Her mother cleared
her throat.
Perhaps Lila cared a little.
She turned her head, peering through the entryway into the parlor. Her mother and father lounged on a white couch, sipping Gregorie.
“Sit,” Chairwoman Randolph ordered from afar.
Fuck. Lila had seen her mother’s Blanc convertible in the garage. The chairwoman had obviously seen what she’d done.
It seemed so funny this morning when she’d been half asleep.
Lila reluctantly shuffled toward the parlor. She propped herself up against the doorway, crossing her boots at the ankles. “You bellowed?”
“I said sit. Not skulk in the doorway like an eavesdropping slave.”
Lila shoved her hands in her pockets and plopped down on an uncomfortable wooden chair. The padding was thin, not because it was an antique, but because its maker had been a sadist.
Its owner might be one too.
Slouching, she nearly dropped her heels on the delicate glass table, stopping only when her mother hopped to her feet. “What are you doing?”
Yes, she’d definitely been around Tristan and Dixon for far too long, but that wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
Lila sat up, boots on the floor, and cleared her throat. “So, you bellowed?”
Her mother just stared until Lemaire tugged her back to her seat.
“There are oil stains on my rug, Elizabeth. Oil stains. I don’t even know how you got my car inside Wolf Tower, much less parked it inside my private apartment on the top floor, but—”
Lila couldn’t help herself. She giggled.
Her mother glared. “I could barely get inside, Elizabeth. The door kept bouncing off the bumper. You ruined a rug that’s been in the family for two generations.”
“Is that sentimentality I hear, Mother?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, child. I had to get our mechanics to take the Blanc apart and reassemble it back at the garage. It took the entire day. There were parts left over.”
“So buy a new one.” Lila shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll leave your car alone next time if you stop putting bugs in mine.”
The chairwoman cocked her head. “You did all that just because—”
“Because you deserved it.”