by Sofia Daniel
When I reached the dining room, students crowded around the head table, demanding answers. I walked around to my side of the table. Blake and Henry were seated on Edward’s left and right, telling people to back off.
Edward sat on his seat with the air of a disdainful king looking down on his subjects. His facial expression and posture broadcasted his confidence, but the darkened circles under his eyes spoke of a boy who had spent many sleepless nights wrestling with the problem.
I straightened and sucked in a deep breath. It was time for me to put on the performance of a lifetime.
“What’s wrong with you all?” I snapped.
The crowd’s attention turned to me, and a boy at the back of the crowd sneered, “Stay out of this, Hobson.”
“If you have questions about International House, take them up with the headmaster or the board of governors. Edward’s an A-Level student whose family happens to own the estate. He doesn’t owe any of you an explanation!”
“She’s right,” said Henry. “Take your complaints elsewhere.”
Most of the people crowding the head table walked away. I glanced at Edward, whose shoulders relaxed. I supposed years of acting like he owned the academy instead of its grounds, had caused people to believe he had the power to do anything, including fixing the problem with International House. He had certainly used that illusion of power to incite the students to victimize others, and now it was backfiring on him.
On Monday, Edward wasn’t at breakfast, but someone had placed a pile of clippings from prominent British newspapers at his place setting. Each had picked up the Correspondent’s story and were demanding to know what had happened to Mercia Academy.
I leaned into Henry. “Where’s Edward?”
“Gone to see the headmaster,” he murmured. “Poor chap hasn’t slept a wink since the story about International House broke out. Somehow, he thinks the blame will fall onto him.”
“Why?”
“Who do you think authorized the use of that empty building during the duke’s absence? It’s all gone horribly wrong, and now the whole country knows.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth and widened my eyes to appear shocked. With this kind of pressure on him to provide answers, Edward might get desperate enough to give me the file of transactions to pass onto Marissa. “Poor Edward.”
Henry gave me a solemn nod. “The past few years have been so hard on him.”
I buttered a slice of toast and hummed my agreement. Decent people under pressure didn’t lash out at vulnerable students and recruit others make their lives hell. I didn’t know how this problem would unfold over the next few days, but it was bringing me closer to my goal. Once I got the evidence that the headmaster had received payments from international crooks, Rudolph would pay for my flight home, and I’d be back in Park Prep.
At second break, I knocked on the door to Edward’s study.
“Come in,” said a weary voice.
I stepped inside. Edward slumped on his desk, mahogany hair mussed, blazer open with the top three buttons of his shirt undone. He would have looked hot if it hadn’t been for the red rims of his eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here.” His voice was cracked. “Your stepfather’s assistant. Can you vouch for her trustworthiness?”
My heart spasmed, making me suck in a breath between my teeth. I smoothed my features, trying to keep from appearing over-eager. “Yes. Marissa is just interested in getting extra work to pay a few expenses. If we tell her we’re worried about Mr. Chaloner giving you a false accounting, she won’t even know to call the press.”
He leaned back in his leather desk chair, closed his eyes and flexed his jaw, as though chewing over the problem. “You’re sure about Marissa?”
My insides trembled with anticipation. “Absolutely.”
Edward opened a drawer from under his desk and pulled out a large, manilla file. “Tell her to treat these papers with the utmost confidentiality.”
Triumph exploded in my chest like fireworks, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep my expression grave. “I’ll take it to London, right now.”
He reached for his phone. “Let me order you a car.”
My stomach dropped. The Correspondent building was on Fleet Street, which was famous for newspapers. Any driver of his would report back to Edward with my activities. “It’ll be faster by train.”
He sighed and slid his hand through his hair. “All right.”
I walked around his desk and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Even though Edward had been one of my biggest tormentors and he and his friends had ruined my future, I would miss them when I returned to New York. “It will work out for the best.” I pressed a kiss on his temple. “I promise.”
Chapter 17
Later that day, I sat in Jackie’s office, watching her leaf through the papers. An accountant called Greg stood beside her chair, reading over her shoulder and shaking his head every so often. I hadn’t dared to open the folder until I reached her in case I dropped something in my nervousness.
She whistled. “Mr. Chaloner is something else.”
I leaned forward. “What did you find?”
Jackie smirked. “Receipts for cash payments of fifty thousand pounds per student.”
“Per term,” added Greg.
“Transfers from numbered accounts in Nevis, Panama, and the Cayman Islands to an account in Switzerland.”
My brows drew together. “What does that mean?”
Jackie licked her lips. “Your friend and his headmaster have received significant payments from sources that do not wish to be named. And most of them in cash. This is money laundering, which is very serious.”
“We’ll have to hand these over to the National Crime Agency,” said Greg.
“After I publish the story,” snapped Jackie.
The older man gulped and turned his gaze to me. “How on earth did you manage to get the headmaster to hand you such incriminating evidence?”
I cringed. “It’s a long story.”
“We should be able to get this article syndicated to a number of other publications,” said Jackie. “You’ve made us a lot of money with your investigations. If you want to skip uni, let me know. You’d excel in investigative journalism.”
“Thanks. Will you tell Rudolph I’m holding up my end of the bargain?”
She grinned, revealing yellowing teeth. “He knows and he’s very impressed with how your research has turned around our paper. I’ll let him know about this particular piece of research. You’ve delivered over a dozen ground-breaking stories, and he told me he only expected four.”
Now that Jackie had everything she needed for an article to expose the scam behind International House and Edward’s contribution towards it, I focused on my more pressing target: Henry. Asking him directly to clear my name hadn’t worked, so I thought a grand gesture might prompt him into doing the right thing.
We all sat together in English Literature while Miss Oakley stood in the front of the class talking about the great novels in literature. One of her examples was A Tale of Two Cities.
The old woman’s black academic robes trailed on the ground as she paced the room. “Which themes do you think makes a book stand the test of time?”
I raised my hand. This was a great opportunity to place an idea into Henry’s head. “Sacrifice, Miss.”
She smiled. “Explain, dear girl.”
“In A Tale of Two Cities, Carton sacrificed his life so Lucie could be happy with Darnay. And in Bleak House, John Jarndyce gave up on pursuing Esther because she loved Mr. Woodcourt. People who love others are prepared to make sacrifices, even if things work out to their detriment.”
She pressed her hand on her chest. “An astute observation, and probably the most romantic gesture one person can make for another.”
Henry gave me a nudge. “You’re quite the expert on love.”
“I have three guys,” I whispered. “It’s bound to give me a few insights.”
He grinned and squeezed my thigh.
After English Lit, Henry and I both had free periods, so we walked back to Elder House together and settled in the triumvirate’s common room sofa. Flames crackled and popped within the roaring fireplace, providing much-needed warmth and a cozy atmosphere to hold our conversation.
I threaded my fingers through his and stared into his earnest, green eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about love recently.”
Henry grinned. “Anyone in particular?”
Lowering my lashes into what I hoped was a vulnerable expression, I said, “I’m not sure I can commit to a man who would let me take the blame for something as serious as a kidnapping.”
“It wasn’t just me,” he replied.
“I know, but it was you they supposedly abducted, and your parents who paid the ransom. If Blake or Edward went to the police telling them I was innocent, they would dismiss their claim.” I squeezed his hand. “That’s why I need your help.”
His brows drew together. “But my parents…”
“If they could drop the charges for me at Rudolph’s request, they would forgive their only son.”
He jerked his head away, breaking eye contact. “You don’t know what they’re like… they’re always threatening me with disinheritance if I don’t do exactly what they say.”
I pressed my lips together, holding back the rage and disgust simmering in my belly. What an entitled prick. Not only did he think it was alright to trick his parents out of five-hundred thousand pounds, but he didn’t want to jeopardize his claim to the Bourneville fortune by telling the truth. Did the wretched boy have no ambition other than to inherit the fruits of someone else’s labors? I closed my eyes and exhaled my frustration, hoping my feelings wouldn’t show in my voice. “Would it be so bad to be like the rest of us?”
“I’ll tell you what.” He cupped my face in both hands. “Break off your engagement with Bachmann and show us your commitment, and I’ll take care of everything.”
“You’d tell your parents it wasn’t me?”
He nodded.
“Thank you!” I threw my hands around his neck, knocking him onto his back. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll speak to him tonight and tell you about it tomorrow.”
The next day after lunch, I stood in Edward’s study in front of the triumvirate, who sat on the leather Chesterfield sofa like a panel of sexy judges. Butterfly wings tickled the lining of my stomach, making me wrap my hands around my belly. The Persian rug lay between us, not quite a barrier, but a marker of our positions on two sides of an unspoken war. The clock struck a quarter to one, giving me fifteen minutes until the next bell, and me an excuse to escape… just in case.
“What do you have to say?” Edward asked from the middle seat with Blake at his left and Henry at his right. All three of their faces were grim, as though they had spoken about me earlier and were dreading the worst.
Twisting a cheap ring I’d bought online on my finger, I walked past the desk to the fireplace, glancing at the boys from beneath my lashes. Each of their gazes locked onto the ring, a symbol that I didn’t fully trust them with my heart.
“I-I’m ready to commit.” I pulled off the ring and threw it into the fireplace. “Sergei and I spoke last night. He’s upset—”
Henry rushed out of his seat and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I’ve been waiting all term for you to say those words.”
I hugged back. “Sorry that it took so long.”
He let go of me, and Blake stepped forward. “This is wonderful news.” He grabbed me by the arms and kissed me on both cheeks. “Thank you.”
I turned to Edward, making sure to blink a few times and swallow. They needed to think I was holding back intense happiness at this new stage of my life.
He cupped my cheek and pressed a kiss close to my ear. “I had dreamed of this moment but never thought it would happen. Thank you, Emilia.”
“I-I think this is the right decision.”
“It is,” murmured Henry. “You’ll never regret becoming our lover.”
I suppressed a scowl. It wasn’t like I’d expected one of them to fall to their knees and propose in exchange for having discarded a fake fiancé, but being just a lover seemed an uneven exchange. Maybe in their tiny minds, they thought I was making the upgrade. Three dicks in exchange for one. A bargain, if that was all I wanted out of life.
As soon as Edward drew back, Henry threaded his fingers through my hair, cupping the back of my head in his large, warm hands. I met his green eyes and pushed aside my misgivings with a smile. He might be a lying asshole, but he was a great kisser, who never failed to give me thrills of anticipation. His other hand stroked my back, making me arch into his touch.
“Thank you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, tasting of lemon and mint.
I let my eyes flutter closed and parted my lips. Kissing Henry was so familiar, so safe, so spine-tinglingly sensual. His tongue slid into my mouth, curling around mine in caresses that made my head spin. I wrapped my arms around his muscular back, digging my fingers into his flesh and bringing us so close together, I felt myself melting into his beautiful, hard body.
Henry’s erection pressed into my belly, making a thrill shoot up my spine. I slipped my hand between our bodies and brushed my fingers against his hardness. He groaned and jerked, then Blake spun me around.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” Blake made a playful growl and started off the kiss with gentle pecks, each sparking sensations across my lips that mirrored in pleasant tingles between my legs.
When Blake kissed me like this, it was hard to remember why I’d ignored him so much, especially when his arms wrapped around my waist and shoulder blades in a tight clinch that told me I was his. He deepened the kiss with long, slow caresses of his tongue.
I matched him move for move, eliciting deep, heavy groans from him that made the muscles of my core clench. Blake’s hand slid down to cup my ass, and his fingers skimmed the crack between my cheeks. I broke the kiss to let out a quivering breath. I had never known I could be so sensitive there.
Blake’s kisses moved across my cheek, and he nibbled on my earlobe before kissing a hot trail down my neck. At the same time, Henry stood behind me, his large body providing a wall of comfort at my back. He held my hips in place and rubbed his erection against them.
“My turn to kiss Emilia.” Edward stepped forward. His lips slid against mine with a maddening gentleness compared to Blake’s wet, open-mouthed kisses against my neck, and the grind of Henry’s hardness against my ass.
A whimper reverberated in the back of my throat. Kissing him was like a warm, unhurried caress that said we had plenty of time to get to know each other. I slid my hand around the back of his neck to bring us closer.
“Emilia,” he said between panting breaths. “I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back.”
“Then don’t,” I murmured, anticipation making my nipples tingle.
His tongue slid between my lips and explored of my mouth, deep and demanding and devouring. Both arms wrapped around my waist and brought our bodies close. At this stage, with Blake and Henry arousing me with their mouths and erections, it was hard to keep track of who was doing what. Heat and wetness gathered between my legs, soaking my panties, and I moaned, needing more.
My insides felt like molten fire. Hands—I don’t know whose—unfastened the buttons of my blazer and slid the garment over my shoulders. Edward continued to kiss me with a hunger that belied his cool exterior. All that politeness and the gentlemanly distance disappeared, replaced with a searing passion that felt beyond physical attraction.
“Thank you,” he said, voice breathy. “For being here when I needed you most.”
Blake pressed his body against my side and continued running sensual kisses along the column of my neck. I moaned into his caresses, never wanting them to stop.
The bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. A t
iny voice in the back of my head said it was time to stop, but their touches and kisses had brought me well beyond the point of caring about nefarious plans and escape routes.
It took every ounce of self-control for me to draw back. “W-we have classes.”
“Ignore it.” Edward’s voice held the kind of command I yearned to follow.
“A-alright,” I gasped out.
Someone’s hand slid over my breast, rolling my nipples between his fingers. Another hand slid under my skirt and rubbed the throbbing spot between my legs. Shivers ran down my spine and into my core. It was nice, but I needed more. Groaning, I wriggled against Henry’s erection, urging him to pull it out of his pants.
A strange ringtone filled the air. Edward drew back and cursed. “That’s the headmaster. If he’s contacting me during the day, something disastrous must have happened.”
The words were like a bucket of cold water, and I blinked myself back into awareness. Even Blake and Henry stepped back to gape at their friend. I gulped. “Do you want me to come with you for support?”
Edward gave me a sad, half-smile. “As much as I would appreciate your company, the headmaster would not. He is less likely to speak if you are there.”
Taking a deep breath, Edward straightened his tie and blazer. I ran my fingers over his hair, smoothing it to perfection.
He swallowed and headed for the door. “Thank you.”
My heart thudded in my chest. The most damning article about International House hadn’t yet been published. What could be so urgent that the headmaster was summoning Edward?
Chapter 18
The door clicked shut behind Edward, and I stared at its wood panels as though that would give me an insight into why the headmaster wanted to see him. It couldn’t have been because of the exam paper article. Days had passed since then.
Henry developed me in a mint-scented hug. “You’re worried.”
I leaned into his chest and murmured, “I don’t trust Mr. Chaloner.”