by Sofia Daniel
“You’ve got a nerve to glare at me like that,” I spat.
“Was it your idea to release pictures of Blake and me on the internet?” he asked.
My stomach dropped. “What?”
Henry stalked toward me. “Rudolph Trommel visited my parents with a very interesting video clip from that Valentine’s party.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to hide a gasp. Henry and Blake had drunk so much champagne that night. And because of me, they had taken a high thujone absinthe, which had stripped their inhibitions.
What had started with them pinning me to the bed and smothering me with kisses had ended with them kissing and groping each other in front of the hidden camera. All because I’d left them to prompt Blake into talking about International House in front of the balcony camera.
“Why would Rudolph show your parents?” I asked.
“He wanted a refund of the million he paid them to drop the charges against you.” Henry clenched his teeth. “With interest. When Mother and Father refused, he released stills on the internet.”
“Oh.” I glanced away and fixed my gaze on a swirling pattern on the Persian rug. “He blackmailed them.”
“Don’t pretend you didn't know about it,” spat Blake. “Thanks to you, Henry’s mother showed them to mine.”
My feet shuffled back on their own accord. “I-I’m sorry. But I didn’t shoot or release that video.”
“What about the interview with an anonymous public school bully?” asked Blake. “It was a repeat of everything I told you on the balcony, twisted to make me look like a bigot.”
My mouth dropped open. That was exactly what Jackie had done with the article.
“Don’t even deny it.” Harsh, guttural bitterness laced Henry’s words. “You had that room set up to entrap us. No one else but you could have worked with the Correspondent on that night.”
I could deny it, but the evidence proving my guilt was overwhelming. The heat in Henry and Blake’s glares made my stomach curdle with a sense of impending doom. Every ounce of moisture in my mouth vanished and reappeared on my hairline. It was bad enough to take the blame for things I had done, but devastating to have them think I’d been involved with the distribution of Henry and Blake’s sex tape.
A tiny cough forced its way out of the back of my throat. “You have to believe me. I would never—”
“Stop lying!” Henry bellowed.
I flinched and wrapped my arms around my chest. How could they believe I would allow something so personal on the internet? I glanced at Edward, hoping he would be the voice of reason, but his glower told me he believed me just as guilty as my stepfather. “B-but you framed me—”
“That was Frost, and you know it,” Blake growled.
My stomach tightened, and my gaze flickered to his fathomless, dark eyes. The weight of his stare crushed my defiance to dust.
Drawing back my shoulders, I said, “If you hadn’t withheld so much information from me, none of this would have happened.”
A wall of malevolent silence was my reply. Because I was right. But I was in their territory, outnumbered, with nowhere else to go, and completely at their mercy. I cleared my throat. “What do you want from me?”
“Total and utter obedience,” said Henry.
My stomach dropped, and I took another step back to the door. “What?”
“We own you.” Blake stepped closer, his dark eyes shining with malice.
“No, you don’t.” The words came out a bare whisper. “I’ll—”
Henry placed a finger on my lips. “If you don’t do what we say, we’ll release everything we know to the rest of Elder House and leave you to their tender mercies.”
Blake walked around me and stood at the door, blocking my only route of escape. “Do you know how furious everyone feels by Carbuncle’s supposed betrayal? No one can believe such a well-loved member of staff could leak information about students he served diligently for a decade.”
“But they’ll believe us if we tell them you sent the journalist who forced Carbuncle to spy for the Correspondence,” said Henry.
“You—”
Edward folded his arms across his chest. “You framed an innocent man.”
All my trepidation vanished, replaced by righteous anger. “He was corrupt! You saw what he did with that girl.”
Henry stepped forward. “Then you should have reported him to the police, not used him as a scapegoat for your own crimes.”
I edged back at the vitriol in his words. Blake stood mere inches behind me, his body heat warming my back. “You’d tell everyone I framed Mr. Carbuncle?”
“What do you think they’ll do to you when they find out?” Edward asked through clenched teeth.
My body stiffened. They wouldn’t be so vindictive… would they? I took another step back. My ass skimmed Blake’s hardening crotch. “I don’t understand.”
Blake’s arms wrapped around my waist. “Here’s how things will work between us. Unless you do exactly what we say, we’ll release evidence into the Mercia-Net that proves you were the leak, and not Carbuncle.”
A whimper reverberated in my throat. I still remembered that terrible gauntlet from my first term, and if I didn’t want to become the target of every student in the academy, I would have to subject myself to whatever the triumvirate wanted. “Wh-what kind of things will you demand of me?”
“Nothing too onerous.” Blake’s hand settled over my belly, sending shivers running down my back and between my legs. “Despite everything, we still want you.”
“Except you’re not taking charge anymore.” Henry’s finger skimmed my lipline and tried to slip between the seam of my lips.
I clamped my teeth shut. If they thought I would be their sex slave in exchange for their silence, they were out of their minds.
One of Blake’s hands rose from my waist and rubbed slow, sensuous circles over my right breast. The sensation made that nipple harden, and the muscles of my core clenched. Heat gathered between my legs, and I stifled a moan.
“What do you want, Emilia?” Edward crooned into my ear. “Will you earn our discretion, or will we tell the school of your treachery?”
Blake’s hand made a slow descent down my belly, and his fingertips skimmed the bare skin under the waistband of my skirt. “We’re waiting.”
Parting my lips, I let Henry slip his finger into my mouth.
“Good girl.” Blake ground his erection into my ass. “Now, suck on it.”
I closed my eyes, wrapped my lips around his finger and lathed at it with my tongue. This was embarrassing but better than being on my knees in front of them, which was exactly what I would have made them do if I’d been in the position of power.
“Keep your eyes open.” Henry pushed the finger further into my mouth.
I glared up into his eyes. The pupils were wide and hungry, bordered by a thin ring of green. Henry’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, reminding me of that evening he knelt in front of me behind the oak tree. His breaths were hard and labored and as fast as the pulse pounding between my legs. He stepped closer, filling my senses with his huge body, his citrus and mint scent.
I drew back and turned my head, so Henry’s finger slipped out from my mouth. Through ragged breaths, I asked, “Is that all you want? To humiliate me?”
“Private humiliation is only part of the bargain,” said Edward. Henry stepped back, giving him the space to stand in front of me and announce, “You’re going to repair our reputations.”
“How?” My brows drew together.
“Blake’s mother has him going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings, in case Rudolph Trommel releases the videos at some point to humiliate the royal family.”
“That’s wrong,” I spat. “How is kissing a boy related to being an addict?”
Edward raised a shoulder. “Mrs. Simpson-West’s answer to everything these days is to accuse Blake of being addicted to drugs.”
“Thanks to you,” said Blake.
“Fine. I’ll go with you to your NA meetings.” It couldn’t be worse than sitting through Mr. Frost’s Latin classes.
“And pose for the press.”
My brows drew together. “Press—”
“Don’t act like you don’t love being in front of the camera,” Henry snapped. “Your pictures with Bachmann are all over the society pages.”
Jerking my head to the side, I pressed my lips together and stared at a small portrait of a knight in armor. One of Edward’s ancestors, I supposed. How could I reply to a comment like that, considering I’d gone along with Sergei’s plan to become his beard? At the time, I had wanted to create a little intrigue about myself, so that when I returned to Mercia Academy, it would be as the confidante and possibly lover of a famous classical pianist, not just the trollop they’d sent away via a gauntlet.
“Fine,” I said with a huffed breath. “I’ll pose with you.”
Edward cupped the side of my cheek. A tender gesture, until he turned my head back so I could look him in the face. His eyes were as blue and stormy and as cold as clouds over the arctic. “Henry’s parents are convinced that he’s gay, and they’re threatening to disown him if he doesn’t produce a suitable girlfriend.” Edward prodded me on the shoulder. “You’re going to be that girl.”
“Why not one of the many sycophants in Elder House like Charlotte?”
“She hasn’t returned,” said Blake.
“I don’t want any of those girls,” said Henry. “Only you.”
A gust of frustration huffed out of my lungs. “You didn’t want me enough to clear my name. Why are you forcing me to be your fake girlfriend?”
His glare hardened. “Who said it would be fake?”
“It would be from my end.”
He stepped forward, green eyes blazing. “Will you do it or not? They’re in Dubai right now, and I need to contact them to arrange a meeting.”
“Alright,” I snapped. Their demands were irritating but nothing I couldn’t handle. I turned to Edward. “What do you want from me, Mercia?”
“Help with a fundraiser to rebuild the academy’s reputation.”
My shoulders drooped. “That’s it?”
He stepped back. “That’s all. You’ll come with me to the next meeting of the Board of Governors, and we’ll present a few ideas.”
I stared after him, head tilting and trying to absorb his every feature. This would be the easiest request of all, but why was his request so unselfish? Keeping the relief out of my features, I made an impatient huff. “Can I go, now?”
“No,” said Henry. “You’re going to provide us with a little entertainment.”
“I’m not sucking anything else.”
He snorted. “You won’t get our cocks until you beg.”
“That’s fine with me,” I snapped.
Henry’s grin turned malevolent. “Next time we have you here, we’ll tease you so badly, you’ll be crying for us to fuck you.”
Chapter 5
At lunchtime, I sat at the head table between Edward and Henry, casting my gaze over the rest of the house. We ate the normal fare of a choice of roasted chicken or pork, served with vegetables, roasted potatoes and stuffing. Student slathered on lashings of gravy from jugs at their tables. I cut my chicken breast and sighed. To everyone else, it looked like I was sitting in my usual spot, but the triumvirate had told me I would spend all my hours in the presence of at least one of them unless I wanted my secret exposed.
Just before the waiters served desert, our housemaster, Mr. Jenkins, strolled into the room and stood on the podium on the far right of the table. The man seemed to have lost weight during the Easter break, as his gray suit hung awkwardly off his shoulders. “Welcome back for another term, Elder House!”
Nobody responded. By now, even the mice in the skirting boards had worked out the man had been shirking his housemaster responsibilities.
In the ensuing silence, I glanced at the table usually occupied by Charlotte and her doppelgängers. Wendy, Patricia, and even Alice sat together, but there was no sign of Charlotte. An intern at the Correspondent had mentioned that the family could no longer afford to pay for her tuition fees, and Blake had confirmed earlier that she wouldn’t return. I rested my chin on my hand and exhaled my relief. That was one person I wouldn’t miss.
Mr. Jenkins’ cheeks pinked, and he cleared his throat. “At the end of the lunch bell, please make your way to the assembly block for a meeting with the Board of Governors.”
“Where’s the headmaster?” Coates, the bulky rugby player with the broken nose and cauliflower ears, stood and ran a hand over his shorn head.
Mr. Jenkins flushed and stepped down from the podium. “I expect the governors will update you on his situation.” As he darted out of the room, he said over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to go to the assembly block after the lunch bell.”
I narrowed my eyes at the retreating man. What was the point of having a housemaster who stayed in his room all day, turned a blind eye to the injustices taking place under his thin nose, and couldn’t discipline students? He was more suited to kindergarteners than sixth-formers.
The servers brought a lattice apple pie and custard. I refused a portion. After breakfast with Sergei and his entourage, followed by coffee on the train, my appetite had dwindled. Not running the gauntlet had been a huge relief, but any member of the triumvirate could command me as he wished, and I wasn’t sure about the extent of their vindictiveness.
Henry called back the server. “She will have desert.” He turned to me and winked. “I don’t want you wasting away to nothing.”
“Why?” I spat. “Because you think my boobs will shrink?”
His gaze flickered down my to top and lingered over my breasts. “I was more thinking about your arse, but I like the boobs, too.”
Edward smirked then turned to Blake and whispered something that made him laugh.
My cheeks burned. How could I have ever become so fond of this pig?
Henry’s hand wrapped around my thigh and squeezed. “We should hold weekly inspections. Get out the tape measure to make sure you’re staying the same.”
“You’re really enjoying this,” I muttered.
“Not as much as I would enjoy those inspections,” he replied. “Eat up.”
Irritation fizzled through my veins, making the fine hairs on my skin stand on end. What an asshole.
After lunch, the entire house left the dining hall and walked over the lawn to a Georgian building with the usual tall, symmetrical windows divided into panels. Unlike the other blocks around the law, the assembly hall’s oversized porch consisted of a triangular, stone pediment, held up by several columns. It reminded me of the Pantheon.
Edward placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me through the porch into the building’s cool exterior, an auditorium with its seats organized around a stage in tiers of concentric half-circles. Students from all houses, ranging from little first years to upper-sixth formers, filled the hall all the way up to the back row, where huge, arched windows streamed in shafts of afternoon light. On the stage sat twelve men and women, each wearing suits. The one in the middle, who I assumed was the new headmaster, was clad in black, academic robes.
We took our seats close to the back, and I ended up sandwiched between Henry and Blake, with Edward sitting on Blake’s other side. When everyone was settled, one of the teachers played a tune on the piano, and everybody sang what sounded like the academy anthem. Blake gave me a nudge in the ribs, prompting me to move my lips. At the end of the song, the man in the academic robes stepped forward to a podium on the stage.
“Good Afternoon, staff and students of Mercia Academy.”
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Weaver,” everyone chorused back.
I studied the man’s features. Rita had once spoken about him. He taught Classical Greek and was one of the few members of staff who punished the bullies who had tormented her. My brows rose. At least a good guy would be in charge of the academy
for once.
After a few introductions and general greetings, Mr. Weaver spoke. “It’s with a heavy heart that I confirm that our former headmaster, Mr. Chaloner, has been charged with money laundering and won’t ever return to Mercia Academy.”
Chatters broke out across the assembly hall, and I leaned forward to catch Edward’s eye, but he stared ahead, a muscle flexing in his jaw. My stomach twisted with trepidation. Was he angry that Mr. Chaloner had left or that the man had even commenced his dangerous venture?
Mr. Weaver raised his hands, indicating he wanted everyone to be silent. When the chatter died down, he continued. “It no longer matters if he is found guilty. If you have followed the articles in the press about International House, you will know that he illegally set up an adjunct to the academy, which made people believe they would receive the premium education available for all legitimate students of our fine establishment.”
I rubbed at my temples. The education here was good, but I would hardly call it premium.
“Until we can find a replacement headteacher, we, the Board of Governors, will run the school with the help of an administrator.”
Noises of uproar spread across the assembly hall. I glanced around. Everyone except for the triumvirate, who had probably heard about this development from Edward, looked pissed.
I leaned into Blake. “What’s the big deal? Chaloner was a hateful crook.”
He slipped a hand between my legs. “If you want to know, you can get down on your knees and suck me off.”
Heat flooded between my legs, and my cheeks warmed. I wrapped my hand around his wrist, trying to wrench his hand off on thigh.
He stayed firm as steel, leaned into me and murmured, “We own you, remember. That means we can do anything we like, and you’ll just take it. Now, part those pretty thighs, or else.”
“You’re a bastard,” I spat.
He nodded. “Perhaps, but I’m the bastard who holds your leash.” He trailed his tongue down the shell of my ear and sucked on my lobe, making my breath hitch. “Do as I say.”