Two hours later, I’ve drilled Arthur and made a pronouncement. He’s done. If I could, I’d say he’s completely done with the sharks, but I’d rather keep him under my thumb to check what he’s up to. That said, he’s absolutely done with that chick.
“Come on, man.” Fuller rolls his eyes. “It’s good fun.”
I shake my head. There’s a line and he crossed it.
“She tried to kill herself because you blackmailed her into being your sex slave,” I summarize plainly. “Not a light coercion, not a deal. An actual fucking slave who is not into you. You’re not going anywhere near her after this. She so much as sees you and I go to the board. Understood?”
Fuller’s always been, well, rather full of himself—the name certainly fits. I don’t think he’s ever heard no in his life. “Whatthe fuck? You’re a bloody Cross. I say the word and your entire family gets kicked out, you know.”
As I said: arrogant bastard. He doesn’t have the power to get anyone thrown out of the Heritage—not without a good reason—especially when he’s in the wrong.
“That’s my judgement as the head of this house, after an internal incident,” I retort calmly.
As the words come to me, I realize that this is why my predecessor named me president. The Shark House is far too full of testosterone and it takes someone with a cool head to handle it. If I were anyone else, I’d already be on my feet, beating my chest and demanding a fight to settle my differences.
“If you want to make the issue bigger than it already is, I can bring it to the attention of the entire student council—in which case they can decide.”
Fuller twitches. The student council means the head of every single one of our private houses. That would bring his actions to light, and more than that, the Goltzes would hear.
We all know what Markus Goltz thinks of those who abuse women. Fuller’s not enough of an idiot to push after that.
“Whatever.”
I watch him walk out, eyes narrowed. I’m going to have to keep an eye on that dick.
Or tell Markus about him, one of the two.
I finally stand, stretching, ready to head into bed when the study opens in front of someone who doesn’t bother to knock.
Keller’s hair’s up in a messy bun, which is as disheveled as the handsome bastard ever gets.
Without a preamble, he says, “The girl, she’s one of yours, right?”
“I wouldn’t say mine,” I make a face. “But yeah, she swims with the sharks, so to speak. She has a deal with Arthur Fuller. Alittle fucker, but he's legacy. I'll be asking what his girl was doing at the bottom of our pool for sure.”
I already know, but if I tell him, it’ll be a Sunday dinner discussion at the Goltz house.
Darius Keller’s father is the Goltz matriarch’s brother and the two families are tight. Keller is considerably less psychotic than his cousins, but confiding in one means sharing the knowledge with the entire clan.
“She’ll be okay?” Keller checks.
“Yes.” I’ll make sure of it. “I’ll send someone to ensure things run smoothly after she wakes up. But that's not our only problem."
I don’t need to spell out what the actual issue is: his Barbie. I’ve sorted out everything else. She’s still a loose end, especially if she goes to the cops for a statement about what she drank, with whom, and all that.
"I'll leave her in your hands," I tell him, because I’m not enough of an idiot to make him an enemy. But he’d better fucking deal with it. "I'd expect the same courtesy from you, if the situation were reversed. Not that it would be.” Amused, I can’t help adding, “Lily knows better.”
“Lily’s been in this town for a year, not a week,” Keller argues. “Claire’s sweet. Ignorant. Take your pick. But she’s my problem. I’ll handle her.”
“See that you do—soon,” I advise him. “If the board hears of it from anyone else, they might take the matters in their own hands. You know what they’re like.”
No one in this town likes a snitch.
Keller offers me his hand, and I shake it.
Finally free to head to bed, I wonder if it’s even worth it, because the sun’s already shining over the pool.
I opt to go for a quick shower and decide whether I’ll roll into bed or get dressed depending on how I feel afterwards, but my plan’s derailed the moment I open the master bedroom door.