“How rich did you say they are?”
My random question didn’t take her by surprise. I guess she thought everyone was only interested in money, but that wasn’t the reason I’d asked. The way her eyes lit up told me all I needed to know about who was really paying her salary. Fucking everyone could be bought these days.
“Rich enough that you’ve probably seen their names on the Forbes list.”
Right. Well, that explained how they’d found me. They had enough money to keep tabs on anyone. My beaten up body ached again, so I lowered myself back down, and tried to think this through clearly. “Do I get a choice here at all?” I asked. “And … why would people … rich people throw me away in the first place and then want me back?”
Something wasn’t adding up here. This CPS chick was clearly taking bribes but to what fucking end? Why would my bio-parents suddenly want me back?
She nervously shuffled some papers before finally meeting my eyes. “Unfortunately, you have no choice. You’ve already been signed over to them, and they’ll be here in…” Checking her watch, her eyes lifted to the door behind me. “Five minutes.” It didn’t escape my notice she’d only answered my first question. She probably had no idea why I hadn’t been wanted, but it had all worked out for the best anyway. I have amazing parents who love me and that is worth more than all the money in the world.
Had. Past tense. I had amazing parents. Now … now I was alone.
Her estimation of an arrival time proved a little off, because the door swung open. I turned my head to find a woman framed in the doorway. If I’d had any doubt she was my birth mother, it was all swept away in that moment. She looked like my older sister: the same bright blue eyes most people thought were contacts, and wavy dark hair. She’d clearly learned how to tame hers, or maybe it was the rich person hairdresser she no doubt went to—mine was always a mess of unruly curls. She stood about my height, five foot nine, but would have been shorter if hers wasn’t jacked up by four inch heels. Very shiny. Very expensive looking black heels with red soles.
“Is she ready?”
Not even a word to me, the cold question was directed right over my head.
The lady, whose name I couldn’t remember, started to fidget nervously. “Oh, yes, Catherine, she’s ready on our end. Her belongings were packed up and are being held downstairs.”
“It’s Mrs. Deboise,” Catherine said in that same icy tone. I made a mental note to always call her Catherine, because she was a stuck up bitch. Mrs. Deboise … seriously...
Deboise…
As in Deboise banking? No freakin’ way! The Forbes thing made even more sense because Deboise was a huge, worldwide bank, originating in Europe. Or at least that’s what their ads said on television.
I’d been staring at the impressive shoes again, and when I lifted my head, I was disconcerted to find impassive blue eyes on me.
“Let’s go,” she said shortly.
I remained seated, continuing to stare at her. She let out a little huff. “I don’t have all day, if you’re going to be difficult about it, let’s get that out of the way so we can make our flight.”
My heart stuttered, and I swung back to the child services chick. “Where am I going exactly?”
I had no idea why I’d assumed this bitch lived in New Jersey too, but I should have guessed that wasn’t the case.
Papers shuffled again, and I was five seconds from reaching across and swiping all of her shit right off the desk, when the corrupt CPS worker spoke. “I believe Mrs. Deboise lives in upstate New York.”
Of course she did, probably had a huge estate out there.
“That’s only a few hours away, why are we flying there?” My brow creased in a confused frown. Shit wasn’t adding up.
“I’m a busy woman,” the older version of myself snapped back, not even raising her face from her phone for a second. God forbid she want to spend a couple of hours getting to know the daughter she threw out like trash.
Whatever, at least I wasn’t moving too far away if I ever needed to escape back to Dante. And speaking of…
“I need to let my friend know what’s happening to me, I don’t want him to worry.” I had no idea why I directed that statement to child services. They were not my guardians, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to the ice queen directly. She was actually scarily intimidating, and I felt zero comfort around her.
Nevertheless, it was Catherine who responded to me.
“Your friend?” She spat the word with distaste. “Yes, we were told you’ve been getting visits from some tattoo covered gangbanger. All that will change now. No child of mine will be seen associating with such individuals.”
The way she sneered it made Dante sound like some kind of criminal. Like he was the scum of the earth and the type of person this woman wouldn’t piss on if he were on fire. My stomach churned and bile rose in my throat as I processed her words.
“I’m not going to abandon my best friend just because he doesn’t suit your lifestyle, Catherine,” I snapped back at her, leveling a glare at her that I could only hope carried as much ice as hers did. “For your information, not every person in Jersey with tattoos is in a gang.”
The elegant, stuck up bitch of a woman who had donated her DNA to my creation just looked at me like I was a simpleton.
“Come on, we’re late.” She totally ignored my response, checking her expensive wrist watch and turning on one of those sharp heels to exit the room. The arrogant woman didn’t even glance behind her to check I was following, just assumed I would be.
Anger bubbled up in me, choking out the fear of never seeing my best friend again. If this was how she wanted to play it, I was going to do everything in my power to piss her right the fuck off. I only had two months until I was eighteen, and then there was nothing she could do to keep me in her custody. It was going to be a very long two months for her.
It was too painful to think about the fact that my parents just died, so I’d embrace that fury. Mrs. Deboise had no idea who she was messing with.
2
The Deboise house was exactly what I’d thought it would be. As Catherine’s chauffeur-driven Bentley paused outside the wrought iron gates, I allowed myself a quick moment of awe.
It wasn’t a house. Not even close. It was a sprawling mansion like something out of one of those fantastic Christmas rom-coms. The ones with a girl who meets a prince in a foreign, made up country and they fall madly in love… what a shame happy endings weren’t real, and pretty mansions were just bricks and mortar.
“This is where you live?” I muttered, unable to bite my tongue any longer. We’d been silent the entire helicopter flight and car ride, and I was starting to get twitchy.
Catherine turned her condescending glare on me. “This is where we live. You’re a Deboise now, Riley. Start getting used to it.” She grimaced, her mouth twisting like she’d licked a lemon. “That name is atrocious and not at all suitable for my daughter. We’ll have to change it before the school term starts.”
I spluttered in shock and choked on a stray droplet of saliva.
Smooth, Riles. Real smooth.
“Excuse me?” I demanded when my coughing subsided. “I could have sworn you just said you wanted to change my name.”
My birth mother turned her attention back to her phone that she’d been tapping away at for the whole journey. “That’s exactly what I said, child. Perhaps you suffered a worse head injury than the doctors realized.”
I clenched my teeth together. Hard. My temper had always been a bit short, but no amount of deep breathing and counting to ten was going to save me now.
“You can’t just change my name because it doesn’t suit you,” I declared, a growl of fury underscoring my words. “That’s not how it works. It’s my fucking name, you egomaniac.”
This finally seemed to capture her attention entirely, and her icy glare snapped back to me. “I’m going to let that slide, just this once, because you don’t know what you’re saying. But hear this, child. I’m Catherine Deboise. I can do anything I please, and if I want to change your name, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Her response left me gobsmacked, at a total loss for words. I had no idea people like this even existed. “As for that appalling, vulgar language, I can only imagine it’s a result of your poor upbringing. Deboise ladies don’t swear, so don’t ever do it again.”
Her swipe at my parents—my dead parents—had me seeing red.
Before I could even process what I was doing, I spat in her face. “Fuck you, Catherine.”
She sat there a moment, just staring at me in shock as my saliva ran down her cheek. For a millisecond, I regretted my actions. Spitting was revolting, and not something I’d ever done before, but Catherine Deboise brought out the worst in me.
My moment of regret was gone as quick as it came thanks to the crack of Catherine’s hand across my face. She’d used the back of it, her huge diamond rings cutting my cheek in the process.
“The next time you treat me with disrespect, I’ll have you beaten.” She delivered the threat in such a cold, uncaring way that I really questioned if maybe I’d died in the crash after all. Surely this was Hell.
I touched my fingers to my cheek, dabbing at the blood trickling from the fresh wound and looking at them in stunned disbelief. She’d just hit me!
Catherine pushed open her door and stepped out, disappearing into the mansion without another word and leaving me to find my own way. After a few minutes of struggling I finally managed to clamber out of the car, only to find the fucking driver just standing there.
“Thanks for the help, asshole,” I growled at him in anger. Not because I expected servants to wait on me hand and foot, but because I was in a goddamn cast and blood still dripped down my face. It was only common courtesy, wasn’t it?
The driver raised his brows, giving me an aloof look. “Word of advice, miss. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. You do not want to get on the Mistress’s bad side.”