VEGAS

CHAPTER 3: I Wish You Yelled - Juno’s POV

I moved in immediately with Oliver because he said something about wanting to refine me before his family got here. Refine…like I’m some kind of wild animal and he was going to tame me.

Or at least, that’s what I thought he meant.

I’m currently having the time of my life in the most expensive spa in Vegas and guess where it’s located? In Oliver’s basement. Or what should be the basement.

Since I moved in a couple of hours ago, I’ve been living my best life from getting a five star chef service, to getting my very own closet space in Oliver’s room. He had said that we needed to make it as believable as possible, so we share the same room. He disappeared shortly after that, and still hasn’t come back, even four hours later.

Dean deposited the money for last night into my mother’s account as I instructed him. As for the money for this recent arrangement, Oliver said I won’t get it until his family leaves. No problem though, I wouldn’t need it until then anyway.

My mom would be so happy, and her life will finally be back in order. After her surgery, she’ll go back to working and maybe…just maybe I’d leave this whoring life behind. But that’s not what I want to think about right now. How do I use Oliver to bring down my dad?

Well for one, I can’t let him know I’m his half sister. I can’t let anyone know for that matter. I think I can infiltrate and uh…this sounds lame, doesn’t it?

Well, I can’t say for certain how I’m going to go about this, but I’m going to go about it.

After my spa session, I decide to take a tour round the mansion just so I can be familiar with the place before the Kane's arrive in three days. I need to give off the impression that I’ve been living here, so I can’t afford to be lost or it’ll be so f*****g suspicious.

This role would be relatively easy for me, though. I know more about Oliver than any normal person. Or I’d like to believe that I do. I’ve read magazines, blind items, even stalked him through his mother and sister’s social media because he doesn’t have an active one. But there are things that I still don’t know about him, a lot of things even, and now that I think about it, I’m going to have to know him deeper if I’m to pretend to love him.

“It’s only going to be for the month, so don’t you ever for once think it’s a permanent deal.”

I look up to find Dean walking towards me with a smirk. “You’re not the first girl he’s rented, and you’re not going to be the last.”

“What’s your deal? I’m starting to think that you wished he rented you instead.”

“Funny.” He rolls his eyes. “Remember your place here. You’re not above me or any of the house staff. You’re just some cheap disposable f**k that will be discarded at the end of the month.”

His words sting, probably because I know that I’m above him, all the house staff and all of Vegas by blood. But then, I’m still below all of them and the bastard child, still by blood.

I glare and his smirk falters. “Why don’t you suck his d**k already? You’re bleeding desperation”

He takes a slow step towards me, his pretty doe eyes narrowing into sharp slits. “Unlike you, I’m no slut.”

“Unlike me?” I chuckle, taking an intimidating step towards him. “You should be more like me. He lets me f**k him and he makes you do his paper work.”

His face heats up. “You are-”

“I’ve only been here half a day, Dean. Cut your jealousy until tomorrow, can you?”

Without waiting for a response, I walk past him and continue my mission of touring the mansion. I come to figure that there are eight bedrooms in total, two elevators, two kitchens, two swimming facilities, a cinema, a bowling alley, an indoor tennis court and some other facilities I couldn’t explore because the doors leading to them are locked.

I begin to make my way back to the part of the house I came from, but I get sidetracked when I notice a door that was locked initially during my exploration, partially open. Curious, I take a peek in. It’s an office…or a library, can’t tell the difference.

The walls are scarab green with brown furnishing and book shelves that are twice my height. There’s a huge table in the middle with a fancy computer and files stacked on top in a discouraging heap.

I poke my head in fully, taking in more features of the room. I can’t help but think that my mom would love it here. The calm, the books, the unending work load.

“What do you need?” Oliver’s voice comes from behind one of the bookshelves, startling me. “You can always reach out to Dean.”

He’s so detached, his voice doesn’t even sound like it came from a human, but an automated machine.

I step into the room fully. “I don’t think you noticed, but your twink doesn’t like me much. He seems disappointed that he didn’t get to cosplay as your fiancee.”

He steps out from behind the book shelf to my right, his eyes meeting mine without emotion. Like he can see right past me, and that I’m nothing more than a background to him. I guess that’s how you start to feel about people that aren’t in your same social class. Which only irks me more because I’m supposed to be his equal.

“Is that all you came to talk about? Dean?”

“I didn’t want to talk about anything,” I muse. “I had no idea you were in here.”

“Then leave.”

I stare at him incredulously. “Leave? Just like that?”

“You have nothing to say to me, I have nothing to say to you. There’s no point of you being here. So leave.”

He doesn’t sound pissed or even remotely irritated. Just factual. How can someone be so direct? It makes me do the exact opposite of what he says though. I walk over to the desk, watching him as he schemes through the big book in his hands.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what you do in your free time,” I begin. “Do you play tennis? I see you have a court here.”

His brows knit together as he stops at a page, finding what he was looking for perhaps. He ignores me completely, walking over and grabbing a pen from the table.

“Do you even have free time? Come to think of it, you’ve never mentioned a particular hobby in any of your interviews.”

Silence, except the sound of pen scribbling on paper.

Okay, so I’m obviously being ignored. Classic.

“We’re supposed to be engaged. We should at least get to know each other and act like it?”

More silence. Irritated, I reach for the computer and take a seat in the soft chair. The moment I turn it on, my eyes are assaulted by the bright light from the screen and this finally gets his attention.

“Don’t touch my things, Juno. Especially not my computer.”

“So you do talk,” I say with my lip raised at the corner in irritation. I don’t pull away from the computer, instead, I begin to navigate my way through it. He drops the book on the table and reaches me in a stride. He pulls the chair I’m on away from the table to face him, and our eyes meet.

The sun streaking in from the window reflects in his eyes, giving the browns a honey colour. Beautiful to say the least, but emotionally dead.

“I don’t permit anyone to use my computer. I can compromise for my books, but never use my computer. Ever.”

His voice is firm, almost like if it were any other person, they would have gone ballistic on me. But him? Just gentle strict. No man has ever been this way with me before. They yelled and called me names and I got used to it. Liked it even.

“I wish you yelled. You’re so gentle, it’s almost funny.”

He raises a questionable eyebrow. “You’re an adult that is intelligent enough to understand boundaries and hold stable conversations. Why would I yell at you?”

“Because that’s what powerful men do. They yell.”

His eyes darken just a little and then he pushes away from me, shifting the chair back to the table with me still in it. “They’re emotionally immature or bipolar. Not powerful.”

I don’t know what to reply and when it looks like he has nothing to say either, I stand up and begin to make my way to the door but he speaks again.

“I already know all there is to know about you. I did my research before last night. Dean will give you a document. It should contain everything you need to know about me, and the rules you’re going to follow during your time here.”

“You stalked me?”

“Research. Difference.” He clarifies. “Oh, and we don’t get to pretend that we love each other until Sunday. So please, make sure to catch up on the rules before then.”

I don’t say anything. Just turn away and make my way out of the room. There’s something about him that’s puzzling. His behaviour last night at the club was more human than how he is now. Is this the real him? Was he just horny and had to act a little nicely at the club so he could get a good f**k? Can’t figure, and if I say I didn’t care enough to decrypt it, I’d be lying to myself.