Mia needs to be like cigarettes. Something I revel in but can discard when I’m bored. And I will be bored. It’s a fact, not a speculation.
After I park my McLaren in plain sight for anyone passing by to see, I stroll through the animal shelter’s door.
It’s late o’clock even for people who worship at animals’ feet, but that doesn’t seem to deter our resident Goody Two-shoes from coming here at this ungodly hour of the night. It smells rotten, just saying.
Some cats hiss at me as I pass by. Dogs growl, but I glare at them and they hide behind their tiny cages.
It’s no secret that Bran is the twin who’s a lover of all things animals and sunshine. I never cared for these creatures. Humans are enough of a headache as it is.
Besides, I can’t really use animals if they’re incapable of being manipulated, now, can I? Unlike popular psychological bollocks, however, I’ve also never considered hurting them like wannabe psychopaths.
Only mentally weak psychos with mummy issues hurt helpless beings, and I refuse to be lumped in the same category as the idiots.
I barge straight to the storage room, where Mother Teresa—sorry, I mean Cecily—is organizing pet food on the metallic shelves. Her silver hair is held in a messy chignon, making her look like a wise figure.
Leisurely, I remove my mask, casually hold it in my hand, and clear my throat.
Cecily glances in my direction with a slight jump, then pushes one sack of food in place. “What are you doing here?”
I stroll inside, taking my time and basking in the plain surroundings. “I’m wounded in my little heart. No hi, how are you?”
“I don’t think you came here for any his or how are yous. I’m surprised you even know this place exists.”
I park myself against the shelf beside her and summon Mia’s dramatic pout. “You’ve become so cold, Cecy.”
“Doesn’t feel good to be treated the way you treat people, does it?”
This, of course, is because she helped me, though indirectly, to set off the Heathens’ mansion like fireworks. Apparently, Cecily isn’t a fan of how I used the information she freely provided.
“Aww, you still mad about that other time? That happened centuries ago in human years.”
“You might be able to hurt others and forget about it, but that’s not me, Lan.”
“They allowed themselves to be hurt. Who am I not to indulge them?”
“You’re impossible, and there’s no reasoning with you.” She heaves out a sigh. “I honestly don’t know what I liked about you.”
I grin. “Oh? Is this a confession?”
“No, this is me calling myself daft. I think I liked the idea of you, but when I got close, I realized you’re like your statues. Gorgeous on the outside.” She taps my chest. “Empty on the inside.”
“Did you say gorgeous?”
“Just leave, Lan. I have some work to finish up.”
“Not so fast.” I step in front of her, blocking her exit. “See, I know you swapped me for Jeremy, and while I’m wounded in my little black heart, I let it happen because you can help me bring him down.”
“You…knew?”
“About your feelings for me? You couldn’t have been more obvious, Ces.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You didn’t; why would I? Besides, it was only a phase, no? Because you somehow got on Jeremy’s radar and you grew to like it. I rooted for you. I even encouraged it. In that fight, I noticed he was looking at you and I wanted to test him, so I said, ‘How does it feel to fancy someone who loves me?’ Kind of got beaten up for it, but confirming he has feelings for you was worth it. The mighty Jeremy in luuurve. Isn’t that poetic?”
A gasp falls from her lips.
That’s it, Cecily. Get the fucker back and leave a certain muse with no other choice but me.
And, yes, I knew about Cecily and Jeremy’s unorthodox relationship for a long time, which is why, during an underground fight, when I got the chance to push Jeremy’s buttons, I went for it in spectacular fashion and succeeded with flying colors.
My childhood friend slowly regains her composure and looks at me as if I’m a cardboard cutout of a human—which isn’t entirely wrong. “I don’t love you. I never did.”
“That’s what he thought, though.” My grin widens. “Sorry, I mean thinks.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She pushes past me, choosing to focus on the boring task of organizing shelves. “We’re no longer together, and even if we were, I would never help you hurt him.”