see the world. William made sure I did. I was so completely under his spell,” she murmured. “I never even saw it. Not until it was too late.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked back at Gideon, saw that he had settled in his chair at some point since she’d started to talk. She had no idea how much time had passed. Her throat was dry. A look out the window showed that all the cars—save for Brannon’s Bugatti—were gone, and new ones had taken up the spaces in front of the pub just down Magnolia. “The only jobs I took were his. I’d changed my major to suit him. I’d planned on majoring in business. How could I actually figure out how to fit into the McKay family without knowing how business shit worked?”
“Neve, you are a McKay—you already fit in,” Gideon said softly.
She just stared at him for a long time and then looked away. “I ended up pursuing a degree in fine arts. Never graduated but I can tell you all about paintings and artists that bore the shit out of me. It made him happy, though, seeing me learn all these things he thought a refined lady should know. And as long as I made William happy, I’d have somebody who loved me.”
With her back to Gideon, she didn’t see the way he closed his eyes, couldn’t see the way his hands tightened into fists under the table.
“I sent a Christmas card home. I was twenty-one. I hadn’t spent a Christmas at home in three years.… I sent a card to you, and one to Brannon and Moira.” She flicked him a look, a faint smile on her face. “I had Hannah Parker figure out where you were. I called her off and on for a while.”
“I got that card,” he said quietly. It was one of the very few times he’d heard from her. “I wrote you back.”
She blinked, startled. “I never got anything.” Then she looked down. “But that doesn’t surprise me. I wouldn’t have even known there was a wedding going on if the invitation hadn’t been sent via special courier. The courier ended up finding me while I was out shopping. I never did anything but shop. The job contracts had stopped coming. That summer, we’d gone to Italy and I didn’t get registered for the upcoming school year … William acted like it wasn’t a problem—maybe I should just plan on learning the other things I’d need to know.” She paused and then muttered disgustedly. “What other things? Shopping ? That was all I did. Twice a week, I’d go out, go shopping—I owned more clothes than I’d ever wear and I only went out just to get out.… William seemed to think it was cute and he liked it when I’d show off the clothes. Like I was a fucking doll. I’d go out of the house with his driver. who would walk me into the store and wait for me … and that was where the courier found me. In a damn store.”
A watery laugh escaped her and she looked at him. “Do you know what he said?”
Gideon just waited.
The anger, the horror, all of it was just as fresh now as it had been then.
“This guy tells me he’s been trying to speak with me for nearly a week. Whether or not I wanted to accept the letter, could I at least have the courtesy to sign that I’d refused delivery?” Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a breath, then another.
That night was the first time William ever struck her. She’d demanded to know why she hadn’t been told her sister had written to her, and he’d just backhanded her.
The next day while he was at work, she’d left. She’d just packed up her belongings and left.
Her first stop had been to file a police report. The officer had stared at her with such skepticism—then he asked if she was sure she wanted to do that.
William, after all, was quite the name in London, famous and well respected. He was a barrister and handled contracts for one of the most high-end fashion designers in the world. He often spoke out for human rights and was on the board of several well-known charitable organizations.
Surely he’d never strike a
“What do you mean?”
She looked back at Gideon, saw that he had settled in his chair at some point since she’d started to talk. She had no idea how much time had passed. Her throat was dry. A look out the window showed that all the cars—save for Brannon’s Bugatti—were gone, and new ones had taken up the spaces in front of the pub just down Magnolia. “The only jobs I took were his. I’d changed my major to suit him. I’d planned on majoring in business. How could I actually figure out how to fit into the McKay family without knowing how business shit worked?”
“Neve, you are a McKay—you already fit in,” Gideon said softly.
She just stared at him for a long time and then looked away. “I ended up pursuing a degree in fine arts. Never graduated but I can tell you all about paintings and artists that bore the shit out of me. It made him happy, though, seeing me learn all these things he thought a refined lady should know. And as long as I made William happy, I’d have somebody who loved me.”
With her back to Gideon, she didn’t see the way he closed his eyes, couldn’t see the way his hands tightened into fists under the table.
“I sent a Christmas card home. I was twenty-one. I hadn’t spent a Christmas at home in three years.… I sent a card to you, and one to Brannon and Moira.” She flicked him a look, a faint smile on her face. “I had Hannah Parker figure out where you were. I called her off and on for a while.”
“I got that card,” he said quietly. It was one of the very few times he’d heard from her. “I wrote you back.”
She blinked, startled. “I never got anything.” Then she looked down. “But that doesn’t surprise me. I wouldn’t have even known there was a wedding going on if the invitation hadn’t been sent via special courier. The courier ended up finding me while I was out shopping. I never did anything but shop. The job contracts had stopped coming. That summer, we’d gone to Italy and I didn’t get registered for the upcoming school year … William acted like it wasn’t a problem—maybe I should just plan on learning the other things I’d need to know.” She paused and then muttered disgustedly. “What other things? Shopping ? That was all I did. Twice a week, I’d go out, go shopping—I owned more clothes than I’d ever wear and I only went out just to get out.… William seemed to think it was cute and he liked it when I’d show off the clothes. Like I was a fucking doll. I’d go out of the house with his driver. who would walk me into the store and wait for me … and that was where the courier found me. In a damn store.”
A watery laugh escaped her and she looked at him. “Do you know what he said?”
Gideon just waited.
The anger, the horror, all of it was just as fresh now as it had been then.
“This guy tells me he’s been trying to speak with me for nearly a week. Whether or not I wanted to accept the letter, could I at least have the courtesy to sign that I’d refused delivery?” Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a breath, then another.
That night was the first time William ever struck her. She’d demanded to know why she hadn’t been told her sister had written to her, and he’d just backhanded her.
The next day while he was at work, she’d left. She’d just packed up her belongings and left.
Her first stop had been to file a police report. The officer had stared at her with such skepticism—then he asked if she was sure she wanted to do that.
William, after all, was quite the name in London, famous and well respected. He was a barrister and handled contracts for one of the most high-end fashion designers in the world. He often spoke out for human rights and was on the board of several well-known charitable organizations.
Surely he’d never strike a
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