Annalise and I parted ways outside the kitchen, her to work on prepping more of her photographs for an upcoming gallery show and me to find out exactly where Sophie and Aunt Amelia were.

It didn’t take me long to locate Sophie hiding from the heat of the afternoon in the cool, dark library, reading a book. Amelia lay stretched out on the sofa napping. I didn’t interrupt, just eased back out of the room and jogged up the stairs to Aiden’s suite as silently as I could.

Grabbing the rubber snake from the dressing room, I tucked it under my arm and made my way back down to the first level just as quietly, ducking into the dining room and shutting the door behind me.

Out of nowhere, I heard, “Do you need something?”

I jerked, startled, and almost dropped the snake. Mrs. W stood across the room in the doorway leading to the butler’s pantry and the kitchen. Knowing she would understand, I held up the rubber snake and said, “I found this under my pillow last night.”

Mrs. W nodded, knowingly. “I was wondering what her mood was about this morning. She should have known you wouldn’t scare that easily.”

I was absurdly pleased at the compliment. “Does she always sit in that chair?” I asked, gesturing, snake in hand, at the seat Amelia had occupied since I’d been at Winters House.

“Always,” Mrs. W confirmed, a sly smile ghosting across her lips.

“I’m just going to leave her a gift,” I said, rounding the table and pulling out Amelia’s chair.

Mrs. W made a show of not looking at me. “I’ve forgotten the napkins. I’ll be back in a few minutes to set the table.”

I grinned to myself and carefully positioned the snake where Amelia wouldn’t see it until she pulled out her chair. Payback was a bitch. If this didn’t do the trick, I’d figure out something else.

I was early to dinner. I had no intention of missing the show. Amelia must have gotten used to easy prey, or the indulgence of her family, because she was not at all prepared for the fat rat snake curled up on her chair when she drew it back from the table.

Her piercing scream brought feet pounding down the hallways. She raised one arm and pointed at me shrieking, “You! You did this!”

I stood with my hand on the back of my chair, serene, and said, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did what?”

“This! This thing in my chair!”

Aiden and Gage entered the dining room at the same time, Aiden still carrying his briefcase, his jacket over his arm. I hadn’t seen him in twenty-four hours. My heart eased to have him so close. I was in deep if I missed him that much after barely a day apart. I didn’t have time to dwell on that thought.

Amelia threw her arm out, pointing it to me and accused, “She put a snake in my chair!”

“Excuse me? Where would I get a snake?”

Amelia crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at me. “You know exactly where you got the snake,” she snapped.

Seeing his great aunt was in no real distress, Aiden came up beside me, sliding his arm around my waist. He dropped his head to place a kiss on my cheek and whispered, “Missed you.”

Revenge on Amelia suddenly seemed unimportant. I went up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his lips, murmuring against them, “Missed you, too.”

From across the room, Amelia barked, “Don’t you ignore me.”

I didn’t know which of us she was talking to, and I didn’t care. Gage rounded the table to see the rubber snake on the chair, shook his head, and with a laugh said to his great aunt, “What did you do?”

“What did I do? She—she—”

“Are you saying Violet put the snake on your chair?” Aiden asked, his eyes twinkling but his face deadly serious. “Violet? Did you do this?”

I pulled away from Aiden and strode around the table to stand beside Gage. Pretending to study the snake on Amelia’s chair I said consideringly, “You know, it does look an awful lot like the snake I found under my pillow last night when I went up to bed. Except, I put that snake in the closet. I have no idea how it could have gotten down here. Curious.”

Gage scooped up the snake and tossed it across the table to Aiden, who reached up to pluck it out of the air. He gave it a good look, turning it over in his hands. “Realistic. And heavy.” To Amelia, he said, “That’s twice. First the shortbread and now Violet got you with your own prop. I think it’s a sign.”

“A sign I need to step up my game,” Amelia muttered under her breath.

“It was pretty good, actually,” I said. “You almost had me there for a minute.”

“You didn’t scream,” Amelia said, clearly disappointed.

I shrugged a shoulder and smiled in genuine amusement. “Maybe next time.”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” Aiden pronounced. “Right, Amelia? We’re not trying to run Violet out of the house.”

“Is that the same snake you used on Mrs. W? The one you put in with the root vegetables in the cellar?” Gage asked.

“No, that one is long gone,” Aiden said.

I thought I heard Amelia say something like, “I know where to get another one,” but I wasn’t going to call her out. The whole snake under the pillow thing might have been funny if it hadn’t been my pillow.

I stepped away, about to cross the room to Aiden when Gage’s hand closed around my arm. In a low voice meant for my ears alone, he said, “I talked to Annalise this afternoon. I’ll tell him. Tomorrow.”

I nodded once. “Thank you.”

Gage let go of my arm and I walked away, wondering if he was warming up to me. He hadn’t had to set my mind at ease, and it was nice of him to bother. Still, it wasn’t like he’d welcomed me with open arms. The night before at dinner, he’d poked at me the entire meal, staying just on the right side of good manners, but pushing me nonetheless. If he was treating Chase well, I’d let it go.

After the snake incident, the denizens of Winters House seemed to accept me as one of their own. Amelia, rather than trying another prank, sidled up to me one afternoon when I was using Aiden’s desk in his office and showed me a catalog of fake insects. They were alarmingly realistic. Apparently, my pranking her back had convinced Aunt Amelia she had a fellow troublemaker in the house.

I might have suggested something about cockroaches in Gage’s sock drawer. I’d definitely told Amelia if she put a single bug in Mrs. W’s kitchen I’d rat her out in a heartbeat. Amelia had admitted she was banned from pranking Mrs. W.

Aiden loved his great aunt, but he also loved Mrs. W. The bullion in the shower incident had been a step too far, even for his indulgence.

I’d been at Winters House a full two weeks, no closer to making up with my brother or finding a job. I’d gone on another two interviews, neither of which had been promising. One asked me back for a second interview but offered a salary too low for my experience. The other hadn’t been a good fit, the job more limited than what I wanted and the benefits minimal.

I was in the library with Annalise going over ideas for flower placement during the ceremony when Aiden came in brandishing a piece of cream linen resumé paper.

Shoving the page in my face, Aiden demanded, “Violet, why did I find your résumé on my printer?”

I took the paper from him and scanned it before setting it down beside me. “Thank you. The printer was taking too long to warm up. I was going to go back for it later.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Why are you printing out your résumé?”

Giving him a long look, I said slowly, “Because I’m looking for a job. I always email it in with my application, but it’s good form to bring a copy with me to the interview.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he said. “I can find you a job.”

I gave in to the urge to roll my eyes but resisted the smile that wanted to crack across my face at Annalise’s laugh. Patiently, I said, “I’m aware of that. I don’t want you to get me a job, Aiden. I can get my own job.”

“It would be easier if you’d just let me take care of it,” he said.

I took a deep breath, pushing back the sarcastic comment that wanted to jump from my mouth. “Has it ever occurred to you that your life would be a lot more relaxing if you stopped trying to take care of everything for everyone?”

Annalise snorted a laugh and said under her breath, “That’ll be the day.”

Aiden gave her a disgruntled look and said, “Stay out of this. You’re a pain in my ass, and you’re Riley’s problem now.”

“I’ll always be your problem,” Annalise said affectionately. “But I’ll get out of your way.” With a sympathetic glance in my direction, she left the library, closing the door behind her.

When we were alone, Aiden said, “This isn’t necessary, Violet. I thought you were going back to school. I told you I’d set up an appointment with the graduate admissions counselor—”

“And I told you,” I said, standing and crossing my arms over my chest, “that I didn’t want you to do that. I haven’t decided about school yet. I’m still thinking about it.”

“You’ve been thinking about it for the last few years,” Aiden countered. “It won’t take much to get you enrolled in the MBA program at Emory. If you want a job, I’ll find something you can do part-time.”

“You’re not listening to me. I don’t want an MBA. I’m looking at the accountancy program at UGA. They have one of the best programs in the country, and their rate of graduates who pass the CPA exam the first time is excellent. Plus, they have a concentration in data analysis that’s really interesting—”

“Athens is too far away,” Aiden argued.

“It’s a little over an hour. And MARTA has a bus. I haven’t checked the times, I don’t know if it would line up with my class schedule, but I probably wouldn’t even have to drive.”

“You are not taking public transportation.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking your permission,” I said, my voice perfectly calm when what I really wanted to do was ball my résumé up and throw it in his face.

“Violet, you’re being unreasonable. An MBA with an accounting concentration is more versatile and—”

“Aiden. Stop.”

His look of surprise was almost comical. Not many people told Aiden Winters ‘No’ when he was giving orders. Before he could get going again, I tried to explain.

“I’m not being unreasonable, and you’re still not listening. I know you’re used to organizing everyone’s life, but I don’t want you to organize mine.”

“I’m not trying to organize your life, I just want things to be easier for you.”

“Aiden, I need you to understand. I’ve spent most of my life doing what I was told because someone else thought it was best for me. Doing what was best for me left me standing in a gas station in the middle of the night calling Chase for help because I was jobless, homeless, and one of our father’s friends almost raped me. And do you know what I learned from that? I learned that I can’t trust anyone to know what’s best for me. I’m the only one who knows what’s best for me.”

“Was playing corporate spy and getting caught your idea of what’s best for you? Because if—”

“No, of course, not. I made a mistake. I’m going to make mistakes. But they’ll be my mistakes. And when I get a job, or finish school, that will be mine too. Mine, because I earned it, not because someone smoothed the way for me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, Violet.”

“I don’t need any help,” I said in a near shout.

“Really? From where I’m standing, you’re still unemployed and homeless.”

That struck me right in the gut. The blood drained from my cheeks leaving me abruptly cold. Nausea rolled, and I stepped back, looking for escape.

“That’s not fair.” Even to me the words sounded childish.

“Life isn’t fair, Violet.”

“I’m aware of that,” I said, suddenly exhausted. I was very aware how unfair life was. Sometimes it threw you bounty you hadn’t earned. And sometimes you worked your ass off and got served shit.

Life wasn’t fair, but was it too much to expect Aiden to be?

He pressed harder. “There’s nothing wrong with using what advantage you have to make things easier.”

I was beating him over the head and he still didn’t get it. “I’m not arguing against asking for help. But you’re not waiting for me to ask. You’re just telling me what to do.”

“Because I’m right, and you don’t know what you want. I’m trying to give you direction.”

I’d heard those words before. Hearing my father’s criticism coming from Aiden was too much.

“Did you decide to take my father’s advice? Are you trying to give me a firm hand? Some guidance? You can go to hell.”

It was Aiden’s turn to go pale. His cheeks went grey under his tan. His eyes were stricken when he said, “Violet, that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like,” I said, quietly, too drained to raise my voice. “And I’m done with that. If you just want me to be an extension of you, to do what I’m told and let you make all the decisions, then this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to live like that.”

I didn’t want to hear any more excuses. I needed some air.

A minute alone.

A break.

Pushing past Aiden, I stalked from the library, blinking against a sudden rush of tears. The last thing I wanted was to be caught crying in the middle of the hall. A hand closed around my elbow, pulling me backward into a dark room.

The light flicked on and I saw floor to ceiling racks of wine behind glass doors, discrete gold locks built into the handles. A square island in the center of the room with a black granite top. And Aiden, turning the bolt of the heavy wooden door, locking us in.