“Story.” Tansy’s voice cut me out of the moment. “You remind me a lot of your uncle.” I couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be an insult—you never could with Tansy. “Not so fond to put him in the family plot, but then promises must be kept.”

I choked on my tea and it burned my throat.

Maybe Tansy meant it as a jab, to hurt me, remind me her son had thrown me away. But it had done the opposite. I grasped the table, vertigo assaulting me.

That was why he’d promised never to talk to me?

For my uncle. For me.

The conversation continued around me as our tea wa

s refilled, our macaroons and chocolates replaced, and I heard nothing. Not until Aundi.

“I don’t care what that article said,” she whispered, her laugh low enough that Tansy couldn’t hear. “He will always be Playboy Gray.”

“Right?” Pipa whispered. “Anyone who knows him knows that was a fucking joke. He’s Grayson Crowne. The only thing he cares about is his cock.”

“He feels the most,” I blurted. “Grayson Crowne feels the most out of everyone.” I realized too late I’d spoken too loud when the room fell to a hush.

Shit.

The only one who didn’t glare was Gemma.

“So, Story,” Aundi said, voice saccharine. “I wonder, now that you have such a romantic history with West, if you’ll remember the cute bet he and I had? Do you remember anything about that?”

They watched me with twinkling eyes.

I clenched my tea to keep from shaking.

“Pipa and I were just wondering if it had anything to do with your marriage.”

“Actually,” I said, voice raspier than I’d hoped. “I don’t really think about you at all, Aundi.”

Her smile dropped, the vicious glare she’d been hiding now front and center. My heart hammered, and I was two seconds away from dropping my tea to the floor. I set it down, stood, and made some excuse about needing the bathroom.

I’d already gone three times, but whatever.

I wandered around the tea house for a good thirty minutes, needing air.

For a few moments, I just stood in front of the window. I pressed fingers to the cool glass, staring outside, picturing flakes falling along the private beach. It would snow soon…I could feel it.

I could make out some of the signs from the window. It looked like they said Cinderella, and my gut dropped.

I quickly turned to go back to the table.

I live in one of the most beautiful lies in the world. Crowne Point is so small, you can walk from one side to the other, and yet it has the most wealth per capita of any city in the world, and the biggest wealth disparities.

Oh, and everyone here who is wealthy got that wealth from the Crownes.

You get used to growing up in the sphere of royalty they cultivated, because that’s how they wanted it. You forget it’s not normal, the twenty-first-century noblesse oblige. They plant fairy tales in your head while you shine their shoes—

“He told the world he was a virgin.” Lottie’s voice stopped me short. “I know he did. For her. What if he’d gotten wind of today’s story? What secrets would he have told then?”

Grayson spilled his own secret? For me? Why?

I placed my hand against a lavender wall, knowing I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but unable to stop.

“But everyone thinks he lost it with you, sweet pea. You have a rich husband,” Mrs. du Lac responded. “You have the rich husband, Charlotte. Cheating is a part of it. Your children will become like him. They will take. They will be owed.”

Tags: Mary Catherine Gebhard Crowne Point Erotic
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