Little Doll: Queens of Chaos 1

by L. J. Findlay

  I heard Bastien say something to Gemma and then the front door slammed. They both clearly had left. A part of me wished that she had stayed but the other part of me was relieved it was just Noelle and I. She would help me. She must help me.

  She returned with a vodka orange in hand and wrapped an arm around me. I leant into her, gratefully sharing her support and wordlessly let her guide me out to the balcony where she handed me a cigarette. We quietly smoked together for a while as I processed everything that happened. It was a positive step that Bastien would speak to Blaise, I just hope that he did. I had tried to ring Blaise but to no avail. I had reached voicemail after voicemail and had eventually given up. Now that Bastien was finally fulfilling his promise we had made on that gin soaked evening the last time he was round, it would seem that all hope hadn’t been lost just yet.

  “You didn’t tell me that you were going to New York,” Noelle said, exhaling.

  I tipped my head against the worn sofa and sighed. “I just felt really overwhelmed. Like a marriage I can deal with but I can’t even process being moved across the Atlantic to a city I’ve never even been to before.”

  “I’m not going to fucking let that happen. I am not going to let my best friend, my sister, be locked up with some psychopath in New York. It’s just not happening.”

  “And how do you suggest that we go about stopping this?”

  “Rescue yourself, babe. You keep on waiting for Blaise to rescue you and I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but the boy is just incapable…”

  “The Club will track him down. He hasn’t hidden his funds well enough. They know everything about him and I doubt that my meagre few grand will get us past France.”

  “And who cares about that? You just need to get him out of the country. Force his hand. Force him to actually help for once. Force him to act like a man who I can fucking respect.”

  I stared at Noelle in astonishment. This accelerated the insanity. The situation was insane enough already but this escalated it tenfold. Was she really suggesting that I kidnap a guy on the basis of some attraction we shared?

  “You have nothing to lose,” she said softly, stubbing her cigarette out and holding my hand. “I just would rather that you are on the run than at Xander’s mercy.”

  I really did have nothing else to lose. At least if I escaped then there would be some glimmer of hope. I took a fortifying sip of my vodka orange, closing my eyes, submitting myself to this crazy plan. “How do you suggest I go about doing it?”

  “Leave it with me, babe. You have been through too much in the past few weeks, the past decade, to have to worry about this. I will look after you because we’re sisters and that’s what sisters do.”

  Blaise

  I was in the middle of a tortuous date with Isadora; she had demanded to be taken out to some pretentious restaurant in Knightsbridge and had proceeded to spend most of it taking selfies and Instagramming every fucking second. God, she was so self-absorbed.

  It was painful but fine until we were finishing up the last of the wine and I was paying the bill. That’s when the world fell out from underneath me. When the fruition of my attempts to push Xanthe away had come to pass. Isadora had paused wittering on about whatever inane topic and I glanced up, curious as to why she had fallen silent. Smug satisfaction oozed from her pores as she smiled in victory, looking down at her phone. Immediately, I tensed up. I could tell that something was up and I had a feeling that it could be nothing good.

  “Everything okay?” I asked lightly.

  “Yes,” Isadora breathed out, still enraptured by her phone. I waited for her to elaborate, not willing to ask constant questions. She would spit out whatever had caught her attention. Her small, greedy eyes lifted from her phone and gazed at me with unrestrained delight as she showed me her screen. I focused on the image, trying to work out what had got her into such a frenzy, and then I saw it. I saw the ring and my heart clenched in anger, loss, despair. Xanthe and Xander’s smiling faces peered up at me from the square, proudly declaring their engagement. I wanted nothing more than to grab the phone and throw it across the restaurant. I was so fucking done.

  “Hm?” I asked, as Isadora glared at me.

  She snapped her fingers impatiently in front of me. “When we’re married, I expect you to listen to me.” She huffed, flicking her hair back. “Anyway,” she drawled. “I was saying that you can end this stupid infatuation with that whore because she is engaged and she clearly doesn’t want you.” She gazed at me expectantly.

  I stared back at a loss. What could I say? A picture says a thousand words after all. Just like the picture she had sent me of her decked out in bridal white, but I was so preoccupied with the fucking date today, I hadn’t registered it. What could I have done? I had done my level-best to push her away, to squash the attraction that burned between us, in order to protect her. I had been confused as to why she hadn’t run away when she learnt of my engagement to Isadora but maybe this was her running away. Maybe this was her letting me know that I wasn’t worth fighting for. She hadn’t had her hand forced by some outdated society and their unreasonable expectations. Sure, Xander was controlling but she could always say no. This must be her saying that whatever we had was over between us.

  “Nothing to say?” Isadora taunted cruelly. “Personally, I never did see the obsession with her. She was always so plain, so boring, and just so classless. It’s a miracle that Xander has even decided to marry her. I mean, if she’s willing to spread her legs for you then I wonder who else she’s fallen into bed with.”

  I ignored the jab and pushed back my chair. Fuck playing the game and playing nicely. It was clear that I was the only one with any semblance of honour in this sordid mess. I was going to rescue Xanthe. I was going to rescue both of us. She just didn’t understand that I couldn’t liquidate my hidden assets and activate my escape plan years ahead of schedule. I originally had planned to disappear with the considerable wealth of my inheritance and without the baggage of love but here we were. I just didn’t know what to do anymore. It was rare that I was blindsided but I felt like I had lost the game. Checkmate.

  “Lunch is all paid for,” I snapped. “I assume I’ll see you at a later date.” I shrugged on my jacket and grabbed my phone and wallet from the table.

  Isadora gazed at me, the cunning in her expression made me shiver. I had underestimated how grasping and conniving she was. I had assumed I would be forced into an arrangement with a ditzy, air-headed socialite but instead I had landed a monster. Xanthe had warned me but I had assumed she was overreacting. That is, until Isadora purposely had a mental breakdown when she found out I had rejected her to spend the night with Xanthe. God, we were so careless! I often found myself wondering if we would have had more time if we hadn’t given into our physical and emotional need for each other that night. The truth is, I couldn’t stay away from that girl. I needed her like I needed my next lungful of air and that dependent craving disarmed me and, quite frankly, terrified me. It made me weak and susceptible to being held captive by the elders’ capricious whims.

  The cunning quickly vanished, replaced by her go-to simpering air of hurt, as if she had been grievously wounded by my rejection. Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice wobbly. “Seriously, Blaise? How can you be upset? I’m your fiancée after all!” Ever the consummate actress, her voice broke into a full-on sob but she sniffed, dabbing at her eyes, to stop her faux distress. “It’s not healthy, this obsession!”

  “Isadora,” I sighed.

  “No!” she snapped, tears streaming down her face. “You know what, I have half a mind to tell your father all about this obsession.”

  My heart stopped at that. He suspected, he’d be a fool to not suspect but he assumed that, at worst, she would be my mistress and, at best, this infatuation would be over by the wedding. Either way, he saw it as a non-issue. Isadora letting him know that our relationship was impacted by my love for Xanthe would only end in him ensuring that it wa
s thoroughly squashed. “You wouldn’t…” I breathed out.

  She glared at me. “I would. I have had enough of constantly being overshadowed by that bitch. You’re mine, even if I have to force you to get me pregnant.” She paused, wiping her eyes before saying with faked braveness. “After all, time heals everything, and as soon as you see our baby then you’ll see sense.”

  I cringed at that. I hadn’t slept with her out of respect for Xanthe but I knew I would have to sleep with her soon and, short of a vasectomy, it would likely get her pregnant. I mustered up my cool disregard for her and said evenly, “If I even suspect that you are threatening to rape me, and impregnate yourself, then, mark my words, I will dispose of like like the cheap inconvenience that you are. Are we clear?”

  Isadora gasped. “How dare you, Blaise? I’m your fiancée…”

  “And that’s it,” I snapped, walking away from her. I didn’t even know why I had entertained this conversation.

  “You’ll regret this!” Isadora screeched from behind me like some wounded banshee, drawing the shocked glances of the other patrons. God, she was so tiresome. “I will be your wife, Blaise. Whether you like it or not!”

  I exited the restaurant and exhaled in panic before pulling myself together. It was fine. I would get to the bottom of this. I hailed an Uber as I had to meet Ludo, Damien, and Bastien. They were at one of Ludo’s newest ventures near Borough in South London and I had originally blown it off because of the date with Isadora, but now I was free to do whatever I pleased. I didn’t have to be her dancing monkey for the rest of the afternoon.

  The taxi stopped at the end of a cobbled alley, the houses rising tall either side and I smiled. This was where you got a glimpse of what London looked like in the past; before the war and the bombing, before the modernisation and new builds. Ludo was always drawn to places like this and his room was littered with black and white photos of London where the past encroached on the present. It was a quirk of his, I supposed.

  The entrance to his newest bar was, predictably, hidden, but I knew that it was the third door on the right. This one was probably the most secretive out of all his ventures, but there was allure in secrecy. I had no doubt it would be a success. Ludo had an innate talent, as well as the passion, for these clandestine bars and it was lapped up by eager revellers. His heart was not in The Club; he was lucky really that his father couldn’t care less about his involvement as he had never had grand ambitions for his family’s standing. Much like Ludo, he was happy to be a bystander and to be content with the immeasurable wealth he received. Unlike my father, he didn’t use his children as pawns, I thought bitterly.

  I knocked three times and waited briefly before the door swung open to a shadowy atrium. I nodded at the security guard who wisely didn’t ask who I was. They knew who Ludo’s inner circle was. We didn’t need verification.

  The bar was in an old Victorian terrace house and I had to climb the narrow, rickety stairs to the first floor where several voices issued forth. I entered, surveying the room that, unusually for Ludo who tended to favour shadowy intrigue in his design, was well-lit; the summer sun was streaming through the dirty windows across the open-plan space. Comfy, well-worn sofas and chairs were grouped together throughout the room and I saw my friends sitting against the far corner, next to the bar which ran the length of the exposed brick wall.

  Typically, Bastien was in the middle of a joke as I could see him laughing and gesticulating wildly. I probably was too hard on him, but he aggravated me with his humour and his flippant attitude to our restrictive lives, dictated by The Club. Obviously, he managed to end up with the love of his life whereas I was expected to cast mine aside in favour of a forced marriage. I tamped down the rising anger as it wouldn’t do to show my feelings with such a display of frustration.

  Damien noticed my approach as he was always scanning, watching, and assessing. I wasn’t sure why he was always on high-alert but I was grateful for his attentiveness as it had saved our backs in more than one situation. Ludo, sitting next to him, followed his gaze as he sipped from his negroni, and smiled, standing up with his arms out in welcome.

  “And he returns! How was your lovely date?” he inquired.

  I gritted my teeth. “If I were you, I would refrain from describing it as lovely.” He loved to wind people up and he knew how much it grated on my nerves so he continued to do it. It was like after the disaster when The Elders found out that I had seen Xanthe, he had repeatedly offered to marry her. I wasn’t sure why he was so obsessed. It seemed like he was taking a joke too far and he just needed to drop it. “And thank you for asking, a double Grey Goose on the rocks, please.” I sank into the armchair in between the sofas and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “De Vere, you need to stop being such a moody bastard.” Bastien attempted to joke but tension lined every syllable.

  “Not after the day I’ve had, I can assure you.”

  Ludo slid my drink in front of me and I felt a pang of guilt for my earlier rudeness. He knew he was being aggravating but that didn’t merit rudeness when he was nothing but decent. “Thanks, brother.” I smiled and the hurt vanished from his gaze.

  I drained the glass and Bastien laughed lightly. “Steady on, it’s still early. Now, do tell, what has got you in such a bother?”

  I slumped back against the chair regarding my friends. Bastien looked tense, Ludo looked confused, and Damien looked bored but that didn’t make any change to his normal attitude. “Has Gemma said anything?”

  “Why would Gemma have said anything?” Bastien said, confusion dripping from his words. “Come on, brother, if something has happened you’ve got to tell me.”

  “Like Xanthe getting engaged to Xander?”

  Ludo dropped his negroni at that, the liquid spilling red across the dusty, wooden floor. “What the fuck? Is this a joke?”

  “Would I joke about something like this?” I snapped in frustration. “And you keep on saying that you know Xander. So you must know that he is a volatile and abusive man, right?”

  “I know of him from some parties as we’ve got mutual friends, and he loves to frequent Chrysus in Canary Wharf after work. Sure, he’s a bit abrasive…”

  “A bit abrasive?” I snorted in disbelief. They hadn’t seen the scars that Xanthe had to deal with day in day out. She couldn’t be with a man like that. The more I thought about, the more I realised she was coerced into the engagement. But why? I just needed to know.

  “Oh grow up and relax, Blaise,” Damien drawled, swirling his gin and tonic around in the glass and gazing at the liquid with far more interest than he had in our present conversation. “So what if the girl is marrying Xander? Surely that will help you focus on your final task? We all passed ours and with not as much fuss as you are making, might I add.”

  “Anyway, as I was saying,” Ludo continued. “It’s not ideal but this is entirely your fault for being so possessive. I offered to marry her and bring her into the fold…”

  “What? Our sexual commune?” I laughed, annoyed that he had brought it up yet again. “What’s in it for you? You know that she likes me and she’ll never choose you.”

  “Blaise, come on, let’s remain civil…” Bastien began to say, but Ludo held up his hand, silencing him.

  “Other than that she’s incredibly beautiful, I am drawn to her and I would be keen to get to know her better.” He paused to accept another negroni from the bartender before taking a deep sip. “What man wouldn’t? There’s something magnetic about her, something that you want to cherish and look after. You’re sabotaging yourself by being so possessive.” He arched an eyebrow at me.

  “I don’t care that you are some hippy bartender, we are not sharing the same woman,” I spluttered. “She doesn’t even see you that way!”

  Bastien, sensing my anger, murmured to Ludo, “Just chill, okay?”

  Ludo merely said, “Well, he asked me.” The hurt that flickered in his gaze belied a deeper attraction and I felt a pang of guilt, b
ut then reasoned that Xanthe was mine. We were both captive by this incomprehensible attraction and we were dancing to its merry tune, even if we had to dance to Hell.

  “I’m seeing Gemma this weekend, by the way,” Bastien was saying casually.

  My gaze flicked to his in disbelief. “If you think this is a good subject changer, then you are sorely mistaken,” I hissed.

  “I think we all need to calm down,” he replied, holding his hands up defensively. “I mean, if I’m seeing her you could always see Xanthe, non? I mean, Gemma will invariably want her friends…”

  “Absolutely not. If you think I’m going to stand by and watch those two sabotage this task, and our inheritance, then you have another thing coming,” Damien snapped. He slammed his empty glass on the table and signalled for another. “This conversation is over, effective immediately.”

  I scowled at him but decided to drop the topic. If my brothers wouldn’t support me, then I would fight by myself. I smiled at the bartender and said, “Double Grey Goose on the rocks, thanks.”

  We stayed in tense silence while the bartender prepared our drinks and I took a sip of the vodka, allowing the alcohol to warm and relax me from doing anything rash. I smiled at Ludo. “This is a cool venture. Different from your other ones. How’s it going?”

  He smiled at that and the tension dissipated with the change of conversation as Ludo launched into talking about the bar and how well it was doing. I was happy for my friends but I just felt stressed that I could not have the same happiness. All I wanted was Xanthe. Surely that wasn’t asking for too much? I had an escape plan but it wasn’t like I could enact it without arousing suspicion. I felt fucking trapped and that irked me no end.

  I was surprised when Bastien pulled me to one side as we left the bar and I smiled at him. “All good?”