Web of Lies

by Elizabeth Knox

  Today we’re down on the beach, playing volleyball and drinking daiquiris like we all have no livers. I’m on a team with Roman and Spencer while Henry is with James and Amelia, and Brie is cheering on from the side in her little denim shorts and sequined bikini top. It keeps catching my eye, glinting in the sunshine, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a distraction technique.

  We’re easily winning, something that rankles James as he watches me carefully. He seems to think we’re playing a game, but I’m not playing anything with him. He is inconsequential, I keep reminding myself. I came here for information and slowly but surely things are beginning to fall into place. I’ve already been through Spencer’s phone, laptop, and his social media accounts. It wasn’t hard, not when everyone is relaxed and drunk. I simply ask to borrow a phone to make a call, or with the laptop, I needed to return some modelling contracts urgently. He was only too happy to oblige and the software I hid on his devices sent everything to my tablet. Amelia was also a piece of cake. She uses the same passwords for everything, and it wasn’t that hard to guess: BRIEISABITCH92. She always was the passive aggressive type. Henry and Brie were going to be the challenge and Roman . . . it feels wrong to spy on Roman for some reason. We had become closer in the last week, and every now and again I thought I caught him watching me with a strange expression, a hunger I hadn’t seen before. Between him and James, I was worried about being sucked into something I had no control over, and that didn’t work for me.

  Spencer lands the winning shot and the three of us cheer. Roman pulls me into a hug, swinging me as he laughs before planting a kiss on my lips as my feet land back on the sand. He quirks up a brow at my startled expression before pulling Spencer into our hug and giving him a big kiss too.

  “For fuck sake, Roman! Do you have to?” Henry shouts across the net as he throws his sunglasses on the ground in frustration. A homophobe and a sore loser.

  The three of us laugh and jump around, still a ball of limbs wrapped up in each other until we fall over. Amelia comes over and helps Spencer up while Roman pulls me on top of him. Henry has stormed off and James is busy being consoled by Brie, but I can feel his eyes on my back.

  “C’mon, let’s go for a swim,” I say, making to get up. Roman grabs my arm and holds me in place. I’m very aware of him as I sit straddling his hips. We’ve never been shy about touching each other, but this is different.

  “Viv, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he says softly as he tucks my hair back behind my ear.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I’m an open book,” I say calmly before standing and stripping off my t-shirt and shorts. I need a swim, even if he doesn’t. I need the cool water to knock some sense into me. What does Roman think he knows? Or is he just being a good friend?

  I wade into the sea up to my waist when I hear the others come in behind me. James is the first to reach me as the girls squeal about the cold and the boys try to throw each other in.

  “You seem to have a soft spot for Lord Huntington,” he murmurs as his steps fall into line with mine and we go deeper.

  “And you seem to be jealous.”

  “Jealousy is a waste of emotion,” he replies as we begin to swim. “I’m just intrigued. Will you push him away too?”

  “Have I been pushing you away? I wasn’t aware you were trying to get close to me, Mr. Wickham.” I nod towards Brie, who is watching us from the shallows, not wanting to get her hair wet.

  He laughs and the sound makes me pause. It seems genuine. “Stop making me sound like I’ve married your sister to steal your fortune.”

  “You know Austen?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice.

  “With a name like mine, of course, I do. I’ve always had an interest in names,” he admits.

  I’m not sure why he’s sharing this with me. Why is he trying to be my friend? I say nothing but practise a few backstrokes before turning back over and doing a leisurely front crawl.

  “Poor destitute Saint Clare,” he smirks as we swim back towards the shore. “I mean, that’s where your name comes from, isn’t it?”

  “Is it? I wouldn’t know,” I say casually, my feet reaching the ground now.

  Of course, I know. The irony isn’t lost on me. Saint Clare, founder of the Order of The Poor Ladies. The life of poverty was one she chose, but I’m not so righteous. I’ll find out who my father’s accomplice was. I’ll discover which of my friends bankrupted my family, and then I’ll ruin them by taking everything they’ve got.

  We emerge from the water and wade back to the others. I’m aware of my red string bikini coming loose, so I pause to re-tie it at my hip. My skin feels like it’s on fire and I can’t work out if it’s because Roman and James are both staring at me or because I’ve caught the sun.

  Brie starts calling out to James, saying she needs his help to put sunscreen on her back. And as he drags his eyes away from my wet body to the tennis diamond cuff Brie is wearing at the beach, I gently remind him.

  “There are some things more valuable than diamonds and money, James. And if you want to survive the next five weeks with your secrets still intact, you should remember that.”

  “Wise words from the Queen of Secrets herself.” He winks before walking away and scooping up Brie in a wet embrace.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucas

  So, it looks like the ever-cool Vivian St. Clare is on to me. I don’t know how. But what I do know is, she isn’t trying to stop me. She seems to know I’m casing Gabriella’s impressive jewellery collection, and yet she hasn’t warned Brie about me. How do I know that? Because the girl is accosting me in the changing rooms, trying to get me to fuck her as the others head back up to the hotel to shower and get ready for dinner. Her hands are literally down my pants. Is that what you do to the person trying to rob you?

  I kiss her back, but I feel even more detached than usual for some reason. I go through the motions, tangling my hands in her hair as I press her up against the tiled wall. But there’s nothing there. I pin her hands above her head as I nip her bottom lip and dominate her thoughts. She moans beneath me and I take that as a sign to deepen the kiss, undoing the clasp on her bracelet before grabbing her wrists and bringing them around my neck. I hear the soft clink as it hits the floor, but then I’m listening out for it. It doesn’t thrill me the way I thought it would and soon Brie’s breathy groans are irritating me.

  I shift away gently, leaving her panting. Brushing my fingers through her hair, straightening her out, I whisper, “Come on, the others will be wondering where we are.”

  “Let them,” Brie pouts. “It’s been almost two weeks, James . . .” She grabs for the waistband of my trunks and I step back playfully, grinning at her. I take the opportunity to discreetly slide the bracelet across the floor under one of the benches with my foot as I dodge her grabby hands.

  Pulling her into me, I kiss the tip of her nose. “And what’s two weeks when we have a lifetime?”

  She seems to melt in my arms, while I’m resisting the urge to gag. Women are so predictable. No, not all women.

  Vivian.

  I thread my hand through Gabriella’s and we walk in the dusk light back to the complex. We say our goodbyes at the hotel reception and I exhale slowly, glad for the reprieve and the opportunity to shower. Alone. Hawkeye is definitely testing me with this one, and I’m not even sure if the pay-off is worth it. I may end up married to Brie Astor if I keep making stupid romantic comments.

  I dig out my laptop once I’ve scrubbed myself clean of Gabriella’s Chanel perfume. Laying across the bed, I check my emails to see if anyone has replied to my enquiry on the mysterious David St. Clare yet. Most are just rumours, conspiracy theories, but then I see one that seems to make perfect sense. Too much adds up for it to be just a rumour. From what my hacker friends understand of the situation, Daddy David is a thief. It looks like the stupid fucker was running a Ponzi scheme, and the best part— it hasn’t even been discovered by officials yet. Audits
have only just begun following, which means that in a few weeks the St. Clare name will be dirt and Vivian will be up to her neck in shit. No wonder David has done a bunk already. He’s an embezzling fuck who’s been stealing from all the richest families in the UK. But then why is she here? Her friends will ruin her when they find out. Their necks may snap from switching alliances so fast. The second the news drops, she’s a goner. Friendship means nothing. Why does that bother me?

  I dress in another pair of navy linen trousers with a soft pink shirt this time, forgoing the jacket entirely. It’s too warm and I feel agitated tonight. Is it the fact that I haven’t fucked Brie yet? Is sexual frustration driving me crazy, I wonder as I walk down to the veranda? Vivian is standing next to Roman by the bar, wearing a short, floaty, white dress that’s virtually see-through. I can make out the lace pattern on her pale-yellow underwear, it’s that sheer. As Roman touches her arm, it finally hits me. Brie isn’t my problem. Vivian is. It’s like she’s under my skin. I want her.

  “Evening,” I say coolly, interrupting whatever conversation they’re having. Roman watches me with an interested look. I’m not sure if he wants me or if he wants to know what my intentions are. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Vivian meets my gaze dead on, always like she’s trying to push my buttons. I smirk and let my eyes roam over her figure, getting a sense of satisfaction when she blushes. So, the Ice Queen isn’t entirely immune to me after all.

  “You seem nervous,” I comment softly as she takes a sip from her glass.

  “Why would you make me nervous?” She tosses back her golden tresses and laughs haughtily. For some reason, I fucking love it. I also know she’s lying.

  I take a step closer to her and the thrill that shoots through me as she stumbles back is intoxicating. Roman moves forward and I can smell coconut lingering in the air. Seconds later, I feel the warmth of his hand through my shirt as he places his palm against my back and leans in between the two of us.

  His blue eyes are twinkling like the sapphires in Gabriella’s collection as he whispers, “You two either need to fuck or fight because this tension is killing me, and as long as I get to watch, I’m happy either way.”

  “What?” Vivian sputters quietly, her pink blush now a tomato red.

  Roman curses as I hear a familiar shrill voice calling my name. “Shit, Brie is coming. We’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

  He smiles like he hasn’t just suggested a private show as he leads Vivian to the table.

  Chapter Ten

  Vivian

  I swear, everyone has heat stroke tonight. That or they are just plain delusional. I sit opposite James and Gabriella, Roman on one side and Amelia on the other. Henry looks grumpy as he sits opposite Amelia, and Spencer is by the bar, chatting with a young waiter. A very cute, young waiter.

  “Why do you look like someone has pissed on your chips, Henry?” Roman chuckles as he sits back in his seat and places a hand on my thigh. I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid if he’d done this yesterday, but five minutes ago he said he wanted to watch James have sex with me. That changed things, but I still couldn’t bring myself to move away from him.

  “Nothing. I’m starving. Someone should go and get Spencer or we’ll order without him,” he spits, crossing his arms. His beer remains untouched on the table as his frown grows deeper.

  “Aww, leave him be,” Amelia says softly. “It’s nice that he’s met someone instead of hiding in your shadow all the time.”

  “Jesus, Amelia. Make Henry out to be the bad guy, why don’t you,” Brie snaps. She fiddles with the straw in her drink while rolling her eyes. “Maybe Spencer should keep it in his pants and just focus on his friends for a change.”

  “What a hypocrite,” Amelia mumbles as she plays with her nails.

  “What did you say?” Brie demands, slapping a hand on the table and glaring at Amelia.

  That’s it, I can’t bite my tongue. Why is she always the nastiest to Amelia, who wouldn’t say boo to a fucking ghost?

  “She called you a hypocrite, Gabriella,” I drawl, bored of Brie’s nastiness. “Since you are sitting next to your latest man meat and there’s clearly going to be a fucking barbeque.”

  “What the fuck, Viv?” Roman is laughing so hard, he’s shaking me with him. “Man meat?”

  Pointing one of her stupid plastic nails at me, Brie’s face is turning red as she hisses, “You think you’re so fucking special, Vivian. But you’re nothing!”

  I’m tired of her mean girl shit. James raises an eyebrow at me, waiting to see how I’ll react, while Roman is now squeezing my thigh as he laughs. It looks like no one is going to defend me, not that I need them to, so as per usual, I’ll handle shit myself.

  I shrug. “Well, your boyfriend clearly disagrees given the way his eyes haven’t left me since we got here.”

  I wink at James, making it so exaggerated it’s almost theatrical, but it has the desired effect. Gabriella goes to lunge across the table for me, but he lays a hand on her arm and she stills.

  “I think this is getting out of hand. Everyone just needs to calm down.” James’s voice is even as he sits, watching. Calculating. Everything is a strategy to him and he’s working on his next play.

  A laughing noise interrupts the brewing argument and we all look to where Spencer and the waiter are huddled up together. The waiter touches Spencer’s cheek and the next thing I know, Henry has stormed over to them. We all watch, opened mouthed, as he grabs Spencer by the wrist and pulls the bewildered man through the restaurant behind him. Roman cheers and wolf whistles as Amelia applauds, but Henry only sticks his middle finger up in response as they leave. Well . . . I didn’t see that coming.

  “I’m sorry for what I said. Amelia, Viv, you guys know I didn’t mean it, right?” Brie sighs, batting her eyelashes like an injured puppy and under the table I clench my fists. She’s so false, it’s making my teeth hurt with her sugary sweetness. Roman’s hand engulfs my own and I exhale, giving him a small smile.

  “She knows, Brie. Besides, we’re going back to her cabin to get naked, so no one is fussed about your barbeque,” Roman jokes, except . . . he isn’t joking. He weaves his fingers through mine and we leave with Brie saying nothing while Amelia waves us off. It’s James that makes me pause, the dark look in his eyes confusing me as he tilts his head at us. Is he angry? Is he amused? Why is he so impossible to get a read on? And why do I care?

  “What the hell is going on tonight?” I say as we get closer to the Luna Cabin.

  “How can you be so wrapped up in your own head all the time, Viv,” Roman chuckles.

  I put my key in the door and pause. I can feel him right behind me, warmth coming off him in waves, and my breathing hitches ever so slightly.

  “Are you afraid of letting me in?” Roman whispers.

  “I don’t even know what’s happening,” I admit. My voice shaky.

  “Nothing,” he says, hand resting on my hip. “Not yet.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, for starters, James isn’t here. It’s a bit mean to start without him.” It sounds like he’s teasing me, but I don’t think he is. “And secondly, whatever happens between us is going to be because you want it to. Understand?”

  I turn as he moves forward so that I’m pressed up against my door. This can’t happen, because if it does, there will be no going back. And if Roman . . . if Roman is the one hiding my father, then I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucas

  Gabriella is sitting next to me fuming in her seat, the anger rolling off her in waves as Amelia leaves. I’m thinking about making my excuses too, but her hand is clamped on my arm like a vice. It seems I must play the dutiful suitor role for a little while longer.

  “How dare she speak to me like that?” she seethes as she throws back her drink. “She has no idea what I’ve done for her family.”

  My ears prick up. What did Gabriella Astor do for the St. Clare fam
ily? Was she involved in Daddy David’s shady business? I make sympathetic noises and order her another drink, with a double measure this time. Maybe this won’t be a waste of time after all.

  “I mean, I finally have something good and she just wants to ruin it all.” She takes a large gulp, making a sour face before taking another swig. “She always wants what I have. It’s not my fault her father always showed me more affection. Y’know?”

  I almost flinch as her hand moves from my arm to my leg. I force myself to stay and nod to the waitress, ordering more drinks. Even she looks like she’s pitying me. Why the fuck did I get trapped here? I should be . . . I should be in Luna Cabin fucking Vivian with Roman. Instead, I’m watching my mark get progressively more pissed and touchy-feely.

  She’s leaning into me now, mouth drawn together in a tight line as she frowns. “Of course, I had to help him. It’s not like he could go to her. She’d never understand. So stuck up. So fucking pious.”

  Bingo. So kind-hearted Brie helped David flee to Tokyo or wherever the fuck he was. Did she know about the Ponzi scheme? Did Viv? Just what did Saint Gabriella do?

  “James, you know I’m right.” She reaches up and strokes my cheek. “You think I’m right too, don’t you? She’s just an ungrateful bitch.”

  Her rant descends into angry mumbling with the occasional word that I can actually understand. After a few moments, I’m nudging her.

  “Mmmm hmmmm. I think it’s time we head upstairs,” I say, helping her to her feet. She needs to go to sleep and wake up less fucking irritating.

  “Yes. You. Me. Bed. Now.” She giggles and sways before striding off in the direction of the elevator.

  I follow behind, once again guiding her into her room safely. She manages to strip all her clothes off this time before passing out. When I go through her things, I know what I’m looking for. No more playing around. I want that fucking blue diamond ring. I find it at the bottom of a silver aluminium case, still unlocked. How can this woman be so careless? I pocket a few smaller pieces from the jewellery box on her dresser too while I’m here. I’m angry. I’m angry and I want to get back at this spiteful princess.