She stared at me. “Like I said, I do have a brain. I’m a Constantine after all. It’s not like we could ever be fucking friends.”
That made me smirk, and it made her smirk back.
She was right. She was a Constantine. The Constantines and the Morellis could never be friends, we hated the fucking sight of each other. Not that my friends list was exactly long to start with. Hunter Sparro was the only one in this lifetime who’d really made it.
I straightened myself up in the hallway mirror before taking my keys from the table. Elaine was a sassy little bitch as she stood in front of me, hand on hip as she flashed me a bitch of a grin despite the fresh marks on her tit.
“Enjoy your day at the office, honey.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I told her, then stepped outside.
I’d make her pay for that later.
It was a ridiculous feeling, driving into the city for my day. I was alongside so many regular commuters going about their lives. I took no calls on my cell during my drive, soaking myself in the surroundings. It was annoyingly entertaining to be a part of the normal world.
My hackles rose to a whole new level when the elevator arrived at my suite at Morelli Holdings. My loser cousins, Seamus and Duncan, were already in my space. I fucking hated the pieces of shit. They were jackals nipping at my heels, trying to steal my reins, and had been since we were barely boys. I’d happily eradicate them if we weren’t blood relations.
“Late to the office,” Seamus said, then tutted.
Duncan looked at his watch. “Not like you to be a lazy asshole, Lucian. Better up your game before we report you to your daddy.”
Nothing had ever aggravated me more than imbeciles laughing at me. Nobody ever laughed at Lucian Morelli without losing their fucking tongue for it. Nobody but my family fucking tree.
“Go fuck yourselves,” I said to them and brushed right past. “Go home and play video games or whatever else useless cunts like you choose to spend their time doing these days.”
I was almost through to my office when Seamus called out to me.
“Say, Luke, have you heard about the Constantine bitch? We heard you’ve had a bit of a crush on her. Shame the Power Brothers have taken your sweetie pie away.”
There they were again, laughing their pathetic little heads off.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve heard about the Constantine bitch. I hope she’s the first of many.”
“That’s not what the rumors have been saying,” Duncan jeered. “Rumors are that you’re in love with her.”
The thought spiked my blood pressure. I’d never be in love with any bitch, let alone a fucking Constantine. Love was for weaklings and fools.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I said. “That kind of insult will get you fucked up.”
It was an insult.
Even the thought of having people jeering over those rumors was enough to make me despise the stupid little slut even more.
As if I could ever fall in love with Elaine Constantine. I’d rather fucking die.9ElaineI’ve always been a sneak as well as a liar. Curious, my mother used to say, before she hated me. I would wander around the family home like a little wisp, exploring places when other people weren’t looking.
I found my sister Vivian’s diary under her bed when she was fifteen. I read about her crush on Roberto Henley from drama group and how he’d grope her after class. I read how she’d talk about naughty things with Rachel Weston at their sleepovers and how they’d plan who they would marry one day. I crept into my mom’s room once and found she had . . . things in her bedside table drawer. I went through Tinsley’s makeup collection and found she’d borrowed some of Mom’s.
Now it was my time to get curious about Lucian Morelli.
I scoped the place out a little when I was sure he’d be well on the road back into NYC. I checked the external doors first. Both locked. Then the windows. Every window had a lock on it. Of course, I could have found something to smash my way through. But I didn’t. I stared out of the window at the yard sloping away from the house, checking out the hills in the distance. It was a nice spot, but not nice enough for a monster like Morelli. I still didn’t get what the hell he’d give this place a minute for.
It was cheap but quaint. The furniture was basic but cosy. The kitchen was barely stocked but had plenty of essentials.
I felt like an invader as I made my way upstairs. I kept to the edge of the staircase on tiptoes, like some kind of criminal. It didn’t make a tiny bit of sense since the owner knew full well I’d be snooping my way around.