The man’s fingers slid under the waistband of my pantyhose, down my stomach. He tightened his grip on the pearls, cutting off my air. Pain and pleasure built inside me until I was aching, and that’s when I knew he was right about me. He was right, he was right, he was right.
***
I walked quickly past the kitchen, smoothing shaking hands down my dress, leaving the sounds of Paters and daughters in the throes of the gathering behind me. I would not think of what I’d just done; would not picture Cal’s face if he ever found out or, worse, Jamie’s. I’d think of nothing but stepping through the front door and putting this house behind me.
A strangled sob came from the kitchen, and I froze midstep. Then another—a desperate sound. I glanced at the front door, imagined pulling it open, emerging into the cool night air. Then I gritted my teeth and pushed into the kitchen.
It was a small, homey space, with a black-and-white checkerboard floor. In the corner, Katie was curled into a ball, rocking.
“Are you okay?” I flew to her, falling to my knees. She was still naked, though she’d draped her dress over her body like a blanket.
She jerked back. Her whole body was streaked with blood; she reeked of it. Some of it was hers—a bleeding lip, and dark bruises already forming from all those hands.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Let me get a washcloth.”
“I’m fine,” she said, wiping at her eyes and sitting taller. “Really. Please, I’m embarrassed.”
I rose anyway and pulled a towel off the stove, running it under warm water. “Can I?” I gestured at her arms.
She crossed them over her chest. “I’m just emotional because that was such an experience. So enlightening.”
“Mmm. Well, it feels better to be clean, so…”
She held my gaze, and for a moment, I was sure she’d deny me. Then finally, she nodded. “I guess. Thank you.”
I worked the towel, gently removing blood while she hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. I returned again and again to the sink, until the towel was stained pink and she was scrubbed clean.
“I really am embarrassed,” she said softly. “I swear I wasn’t upset.”
“Can I get you something to eat?” I couldn’t stop looking at her protruding bones.
She shook her head, probably hoping I’d go away now, but I sat on the floor next to her. “Katie, when the Marquis said you were his special daughter, what did he mean?”
She blinked, then offered me a tight-lipped smile. “I’m his. I can’t belong to any other Pater. It’s an honor.”
“Who told you about the Pater Society?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
A different tack, then. “Do you like it?”
At this, she straightened immediately. “Of course.”
“Katie.” My words came out clipped. “Are you a Whitney student?”
She blinked. “Why do you ask?”
She was. The president of Whitney, and one of his own students.
“Are there other Whitney students who are daughters?”
She eyed me warily—and then, without warning, her face fell. “I never do anything right. That’s why he chose me as Eve. They say it’s an honor, but it was a punishment.”
I wanted to press her on the Marquis, but I knew better. “What made you join?” I asked instead. She looked hesitant, so I added, thinking of what Nicole had said: “Between us girls, it was the perks for me. All the fancy parties and presents.”