Chapter 51
Vivian's POV
I was in the library when the front door opened. My heart jumped into my throat, the way it always did when I thought I was about to see Dorian. But instead of his voice, I heard another.
“…say you did your duty, don’t you think?” Leonora asked someone I couldn’t see. “Following me around the mall is one thing, but trailing me up to my room? That might land you on some kind of predator watchlist. Better safe than pedo.”
The front door slammed shut, followed by a sharp curse under her breath.
“Welcome home, Leonora. Big Brother is always watching,” she muttered sarcastically.
I sank deeper into my chair, suddenly considering whether hiding was a valid option. My attempt to be friendly with Leonora that morning hadn’t exactly gone well. But then I thought about Dorian—the dark circles under his eyes, the strain in his voice. If there was anything I could do to make things easier for him, even a little, I had to try.
Leonora strode past the door, shopping bags dangling from her arms like trophies.
“Did you have fun shopping?” I asked, sitting up.
She whirled toward me, one eyebrow raised. “It wasn’t for fun. I needed necessities since I’ll be staying here for a while.”
“Good thinking.”
She stepped into the doorway, glancing around. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in here. I thought it was just for decoration.”
“I like to read.”
Her smile was more of a wince. “How fun for you.”
The way Leonora could make even a neutral statement sound like an insult was honestly impressive. Had Dorian ever considered using her as a weapon against whoever was after me? A short conversation with her, and they’d probably back down and cry.
I tossed my book aside and stood. “It is, but I’m getting stiff. Do you need help with your bags?”
“Nah.”
She started walking away, but I rushed after her, grabbing a couple of pink bags dangling from her fingers. Someone with shame might have given up, but I wasn’t that person.
“I insist. I haven’t been shopping in so long. I’d love to see what you bought.”
Leonora gave me a slow once-over, like she was calculating how much effort it would take to get rid of me. Finally, she sighed. “Okay.”
Minor victory achieved.
Her room was down the hall from Dorian’s, but I had never seen it before. When I first arrived, it had been one of the many locked doors in the house. I had imagined something sinister behind it—dank cells with barred windows or a torture chamber with shackles hanging from the walls. But when she pushed open the door, I found myself in a room with a four-poster bed, velvet purple curtains, and butterfly wallpaper.
“This is adorable.” I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. “I would have killed for this room as a kid.”
Leonora snorted. “I didn’t even like this room when I was a kid. My mom picked it out. I’m going to redecorate soon.”
“Everything? Even the wallpaper?”
She gave me a look that suggested she’d personally set fire to each individual butterfly if she could. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
To make that point even clearer, she grabbed one of the pink bags I was holding and dumped its contents onto her bed. Lace and silk tumbled across the deep purple comforter. Flashes of black, pink, and red.
Lingerie.
More lingerie than I had ever owned in my entire life, let alone purchased in one day.
Necessities, schmecessities.
Leonora stepped back, arms crossed, as if waiting for me to react. Maybe she expected me to gasp, shield my eyes, or do the sign of the cross.
Instead, I picked up a pink bra with delicate floral embroidery on the straps. “This is cute.”
Leonora stared at me for another long second before turning away, sifting through the rest of her bags. “You can sit down. If you want. I don’t care.”
Growing up with just a brother, I wasn’t exactly an expert at talking to girls. But even I knew that, for Leonora, this was a rare invitation. She might as well have rolled out a red carpet and hired a marching band.
I played it cool and perched on the edge of her bed. “Okay, sure. Why not?”
Of course, the answer to that was that I was now an accomplice in Dorian’s baby sister stocking her closet with an array of the skimpiest outfits I had ever seen. There was no way in hell he’d let her leave the house in any of these. Definitely not the black minidress with the cutouts and plunging back.
But I smiled and nodded, told her how great she looked. It wasn’t a lie. Leonora was gorgeous. No surprise, given the gene pool she came from. Dorian was singlehandedly the most attractive human I had ever seen, but his siblings were a close second and third. Living in this house was enough to give a woman a complex.
“Ew. No.” Leonora held up a skimpy blue bikini like it was a contaminated rag. “This is so not my color.”
“Then why did you buy it?”
She shrugged. “Shopping haze. Everything looks great in the store. Then you get it home and have regrets. This is a regret.”
“I think it’s cute.”
Leonora eyed me, then tossed the bikini in my direction. “You can have it. This color will look great on you.”
I snorted. “This looks more like tangled-up string than clothing. I can’t wear this.”
“Why not? Are you embarrassed about your body?” She gave me a once-over, and I braced for whatever horrifying thing she was about to say. But all she said was, “Because you shouldn’t be.”
I would not base my self-worth on a seventeen-year-old’s compliment. I would not base my self-worth on a seventeen-year-old’s compliment. I would not—
“Thanks, but I—”
“Put it on, and we can go sit by the pool.” Leonora dug through another bag and pulled out a fuchsia one-piece with a dangerously low-cut neckline. “I need to tan up.”
On one hand, this was my chance to spend time with her, to talk, to maybe open a door between her and Dorian.
On the other hand, it was probably a very, very bad idea.