Filthy Beast(103)

He responds a minute later. “Safe and sound?”

“Yep!” I type back. “The smuggling operation was a success.”

“Good girl. I knew you could handle it.”

“I’m glad I finally have a way to talk to you. I missed it.”

“You missed what?”

I bite my lip, staring at the screen. “Talking to you,” I say.

“That’s not what you meant,” he responds, and I can see the insinuation in his message.

“Maybe,” I say, smiling to myself.

This is the happiest I’ve been in a while. I’ve been cooped up in the apartment, hidden away from the world, and now finally I can talk to the only person who I really feel like talking to.

My phone vibrates with a response from him, but I don’t get a chance to see it. There’s suddenly a knock at my door, and I panic a little bit. I turn off the phone and hide it in with the vibrator before getting up and answering the door.

It’s Michael, frowning in at me. “Father sent me to get you,” he says. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say, and go to shut the door.

Michael puts his hand out and stops me. “This isn’t optional. Milo is here.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Milo’s here right now?”

“Yes,” he says. “So please, put on something nice and come down to dinner. You’re expected shortly.”

“And if I don’t come?” I ask him. “Are you going to tattle on me?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “That was for your own good, Sadie. You think I wanted to do that?”

“Yes,” I say to him, staring him in the eye.

“Fine, go ahead. Hate me. But I’m your older brother, and I can’t sit around and let you make a mistake like dating Gavin Waller.” Michael can’t even say Gavin’s name without looking absolutely disgusted.

“I’m an adult, Michael,” I say to him. “My mistakes are my own. You can’t control the world.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But you still have to come down to dinner. So please, just come.” He turns and leaves without another word.

I sigh and head back into my room. The last thing I want to do is have family dinner with Milo. I know my parents are going to try and set us up again, but I have no choice. I can’t just ignore it like some little girl.

I get changed and head downstairs. I know I’m in for something painful, but I have to do it anyway. I’m determined to get my family to finally recognize that I’m a person with my own wants and needs, not just a pawn in their political game.

The family is seated at the dining room table, everyone except for Peter. Milo sits in Peter’s usual spot. I take the seat across from him, and he smiles as I sit down.

“It’s nice to see you,” Milo says to me.

“Good to see you, too,” I say. I don’t bother looking at my father.

“We were just discussing Milo’s business venture,” my father says. “It’s quite interesting.”

I glance at Milo. “What is it?” I ask him.

“Oh, nothing fancy. Just a little consulting firm. I’m helping tech developers secure funding for their projects.”

“He’s doing quite well,” mother says, clearly more impressed by his income than by his skills.

“I didn’t know about that,” I say, already bored of this.

“I’ve been keeping it private,” Milo says. “But you’re like family now. So I might as well share.”

I look up at him quickly. That last comment was strange. What does he mean, we’re like family now? That doesn’t seem right. As far as I know, he’s still just the son of a family friend at best, even though my parents do want to marry me off to him. Did something happen?

Before I can ask, the first course is served. Father, Michael, and Milo all begin to discuss the latest market trends, and I quickly tune them out. I wish I had my phone so that I could message Gavin, but that would be akin to suicide. Instead, I have to settle for ignoring the man my family wants me to marry in favor of dreaming about the man I actually want.

It’s an awful situation, but there’s nothing I can do. I get through dinner with the minimum amount of pain, only responding when I absolutely have to. That’s fine with the men, of course, since they’re more interested in hearing themselves talk than they are in anything I might have to say.

The main course comes and goes and eventually we’re all sitting at the table, drinking decaf coffee. Mother stands and excuses herself after a few minutes, followed by father. Michael is the last one to make some excuse, leaving me there with Milo.