“This is going to sound really strange. But I’m pretty sure my dad’s a mobster. And if I told him that Cupcake messed with you…he’d…rough him up a little. Or something. Actually I don’t even know if I need to tell my dad. I think I could just ask Miller or Donnelley to do it.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. “There’s a lot to unpack there.”
I laughed.
“Wow, it all makes sense now,” she said.
“What does?”
“Why my mom couldn’t get the judge to honor Uncle Jim’s will. There was no logical reason why you shouldn’t have been living with us. I mean, we thought something sketchy was going on. But your dad really must have everyone in his pocket. And the way he always gets everything he wants. Oh and all those security guards.” She shook her head. “He’s a freaking mobster!”
“Oh God. He really is, isn’t he?”
“Is he coming tonight?” asked Kennedy. “I bet he’s planning on dressing like himself and he’s going to look just like Al Pacino from The Godfather.”
Yeah. There really wasn’t any denying it. “He’s not coming. But you’re right. I definitely see the similarities now.”
“Your life is surreal. How does Matt feel about marrying a mobster’s daughter?”
I shook my head. “I was a little worried at first. Matt’s made it pretty clear since we’ve met that he thinks the Pruitts are toxic. And I know he’s excited for me to not have the last name Pruitt anymore. But we fell for each other before I knew who my dad was. It doesn’t really change anything. Matt and I have been through so much already…nothing is going to break us.”
Kennedy smiled. “You two are perfect together. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here debating whether or not I should snap my fingers and off Cupcake.”
I laughed.
“I’m just kidding. I’m not crazy. I don’t want any mobsters attacking Cupcake. I don’t need revenge. That’s just not me.” She laughed. “I can’t even imagine doing something like that. I’m not Isabella.”
For some reason, her words made my stomach churn. That’s what Matt wanted. A girl who didn’t need revenge. And I was trying to be that for him. But sometimes, all I wanted to do was text Rob and tell him that the prank was back on. Just thinking about when Isabella made fun of my uncle and me made my blood boil. And the pictures of me in my underwear all over school. Or when she poured milk down the front of me. There was also the time she literally put a gun to my head. Or…God. I took a deep breath. The list was endless. And I needed to let it go. I’m not like Isabella. I’m a Sanders, not a Pruitt. I don’t need revenge.
“Speaking of the devil herself, is Isabella actually coming tonight?” asked Kennedy. “I can’t imagine what on earth would possess Isabella to think that was a good idea.”
“I have no idea. But knowing my luck…she’ll be here. Trying to flirt with Matt. Or doing something else terrible.”
“She can’t do anything terrible to you here. You have the Pruitts’ security and the Caldwells’ security. If she makes one mean peep about you, they’ll kick her out on her ass.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.” Kennedy stood up. “The party is going to start any minute. Come on, we need to go explore. I hope they have fire dancers this year!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
I was excited about the party. But the knots in my stomach didn’t go away as we stepped out into the hall. I knew Kennedy was right. Isabella couldn’t get away with doing anything to me here. But I had a really bad feeling about tonight. And the fake blood dripping from the bannisters didn’t really help.
Chapter 28
Saturday
The decorations made me feel like I was at the Pruitts’ apartment instead of at Matt’s mansion. Or maybe it was just the haunting music and the creepy vibe in the air. I was used to the Caldwells’ house feeling warm and safe, despite its décor. But there was a definite chill in the air tonight. And I had a feeling Isabella was already here.
I didn’t know how the fake blood was constantly dripping from everywhere. It had to be water fountains with red dye, but it looked so real. I leaned forward to inspect some of the red water.
“You girls look stunning.”
I jumped.
Kennedy screamed.
And Mrs. Caldwell laughed. “It’s just me.”