Chapter 2

The next morning, Liam poured me a glass of milk. He looked like he was working up to something.

"Troy, could you stop training in the house?" He hesitated, all fake concern. "The staff are nervous. They're scared you'll lose control and hurt someone."

"I was practicing my stance. I didn't make a sound."

"I know, but boxing's dangerous."

"Which staff member said that?"

He froze.

"Bring them here. I'll ask." I took a sip of milk. "I believe you. I just want to know who said it."

"I... don't know exactly. Someone mentioned it."

I set down my glass. "No one said anything. You made it up."

His lashes flickered.

"You want everyone here thinking boxers are violent. So maybe I really did leave that handprint on your face. That what you're getting at?"

"I wasn't—"

"You might as well ask, 'Troy, are you gonna hit me someday?'"

He went quiet.

"I won't." I stood. "But keep lying like this, and I can't make any promises."

Anya froze with her teacup halfway to her mouth.

For once, she stayed out of it.

Diana stepped out of the kitchen, still in her apron. She'd heard the last few lines, and the dish towel went still in her hands.

She looked at Liam.

He kept his head down.

Diana didn't go to him.

Before, she always had.

***

That afternoon, I walked past the living room.

Liam stood with his back to the hall, talking on the phone.

"Rory, Troy didn't mean to upset you yesterday...

"He just grew up in a small town. He's not used to people like us. Don't take it personally."

Rory's voice came through the speaker. "He's upset? What's he got to be upset about?"

"Troy grew up outside the family. He just—"

I walked up behind him.

He caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye and instantly ended the call.

I set the voice recorder on the coffee table.

"Go on. I didn't catch the rest."

He stared at the recorder, his face going pale.

"You're recording me?"

"You're defending me, right? So why worry about a recording?"

He had nothing to say.

He turned and rushed upstairs, moving twice as fast as usual.

I slipped the recorder back into my pocket.

Anya stood in the kitchen doorway, holding a full glass of water.

No clue how long she'd been there.

She looked toward the stairs where Liam had disappeared, then at me.

Neither of us said a word.

She carried the untouched water back into the living room.

***

Another day passed.

That evening, Rory showed up again with a shopping bag.

Limited-edition sneakers. For Liam.

"Thanks, Rory." Liam took the bag and lowered his head. "You didn't have to. Troy's still here."

She shoved it into his hands.

"I'm giving Liam a gift. What does that have to do with him?"

I reached under the coffee table, grabbed an apple, and took a bite.

"Nothing. You put our engagement on hold yesterday, and now you're back with gifts. You seem more invested in this family than I am."

Her face tightened.

I took another bite. "You called it off, but you keep coming back. So are we done, or are you just replacing me?"

Her face went from red to white.

She snatched up her purse and stormed out, her heels clicking even faster than before.

Liam took two steps after her, then stopped.

He looked back at me.

The look in his eyes had changed.

Not hurt.

He smiled. "Troy, is the apple good?"

"It's okay."

"Then have a few more." He started upstairs, then looked back over his shoulder. "There's not much in this house you're actually allowed to have."

He turned and walked upstairs.

***

A few days later, Diana came to my room.

Jonah's fiftieth birthday banquet was coming up.

It would also be my official introduction to Borevia's upper class.

A maid brought in a custom-made suit.

Dark gray. Nice fabric.

I tried it on.

Someone had pulled out the stitching along the inside seam and cut the fabric.

You'd never notice unless you looked closely.

But take a few steps, and the seam would rip wide open.

I folded the pants and put them back in the closet.

Footsteps stopped outside my door.

Liam leaned into the room with an innocent smile.

"Troy, does the suit fit?"

"It's fine."

"Good." He smiled wider. "Don't be late in three days."

His footsteps faded down the hall.

Late that night, I went downstairs for water.

The kitchen light was still on.

Two people were inside.

Liam stood with his back to the door. Across from him was the maid I'd passed on the way to my room that first day.

"On the day of the banquet, put it under his pillow. Once they find it, don't say anything. Just keep your head down."

She hesitated.

"Sir... what if they find out?"

"They won't." Liam turned his phone toward her. "And even if they do, who do you think Dad'll believe? Me or you?

"Do this, and you'll get enough to cover your son's tuition for two years.

"Say no, and I'll replace you tomorrow."

The maid stayed silent.

I backed away without a sound.

The stairwell was dark.

The voice recorder sat in my pajama pocket.

Its tiny red light blinked in the dark.

I went back to my room without the water.

I called Dad.

"Dad, do you know anyone reliable in Borevia—"

"I do." He cut me off. "One of my old trainees. Dean. He runs Stonewall Security."

"They handle security for most of the big events in the city. I'll have him add you."

"Old trainee?"

"The guy who lived at our gym for five years. He used to hold you when you were a baby." He paused. "Troy... did something happen?"

"Not yet. But it will."

"Save his number. Use it or don't. Your call. But people need to know you're not alone."

"Oh, and Jaxon's daughter is in Borevia too. You two should meet sometime."

A friend request popped up a few seconds later.

[Dean Winston—Stonewall Security]