Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me Chapter 18

Hope is a dangerous, dangerous thing to feel in this competition.

Especially since Nathan seems completely indifferent towards me, Peter sees me as more of a piece of amusement than anything else, and Lucas… Well, you could replace him with a fancy vase, and it wouldn’t change much.

So I take the silly, dangerous feeling, and I shove it down, down, down to the place within me where I keep all my anguish and fear and anxiety. Then I smile at Jessica. “I’m fine, just a little tired. Do you think you can help me undress?”

She nods, putting the phone away in her pocket. “Of course.”

While Jessica helps me undress, Lucy assists June. Once we’re out of the elegant but stuffy dresses with our hair free of all the pins and clips, I sigh in relief as some of the tension lifts.

I tell the maids that June and I wish to nap.

“We’ll be back by five to help you get ready for the banquet.”

“Right.” I resist the urge to let out an exaggerated sigh of frustration. Tonight, for the first time, the contestants will dine with the Ashfords.

I push away that thought for now, already knowing that thinking too much about the coming event will stress me out more.

After they leave, I crawl into bed with June, and my little sister curls into me, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly.

I stroke her hair gently, humming softly as her breathing evens out. And then, just as my eyes close and I feel the sweet oblivion of sleep approach, June whispers, her soft voice barely audible in the quiet room, “I hope you win, too,”

And I don’t have the heart to tell my baby sister that people like us don’t get the luxury of hope.

\*\*\*

At five on the dot, Jessica, Lucy, and the usual stylist team help me prepare for the banquet.

“What about June?” I ask when no one moves towards her as usual.

Lucy shakes her head. “She’s not allowed at tonight’s banquet. It’s strictly contestants only.”

That information makes me want to sit back on the bed in a huff, kick my feet, and demand that if my sister can’t go, I won’t either. But not only would a tantrum be juvenile, it probably wouldn’t work, and I’ll just cement my already-existing reputation as a troublemaker.

So, with June watching me curiously from the bed, I let myself be groomed as usual, feeling the tension creep back into me with every dust of the brushes and every clip and pin put back into my hair.

And afterward, when I step into another gorgeous dress, the tension coils tightly in my belly, informing me that it’s here to stay—at least for the night.

While I stare at myself in the mirror, studying the beautiful stranger looking back at me, June climbs off the bed and sidles up to me.

Her big grey eyes take in my reflection, and she gives a wistful sigh. “You look *beautiful,* Spring.”

I glance down at her, feeling a genuine smile tug on my lips. “You think so?”

She nods enthusiastically. “You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.”

I laugh, not believing her for a second, but just a tiny bit of tension leaves me, my little sister’s words giving me a small confidence boost. I study myself in the mirror again, taking in my perfectly made-up face and the outfit the stylists picked for tonight.

This dress is a rich dark red one-shouldered number. On the left, the sleeve is made of soft mesh and reaches my wrist, while my right shoulder and arm are bare, and a long slit on the right reaches halfway up my thighs.

For a moment, I’m transfixed by the beauty and expert workmanship of the dress. It reminds me of something I designed once, a long time ago, and I wonder what it would be like if I’d had the opportunity to—

“You should be leaving now,” Jessica says, breaking me out of my reverie.

I turn to June. “Summer, are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Lucy and I will happily stay with her,” Jessica says.

I sigh in relief. “Really? Thank you. Please make sure she has dinner on time.”

They nod simultaneously.

After I administer June’s nightly dose of insulin, I hug her, wishing I could take off all the fancy stuff and just spend the night curled up with my sister. Instead, I find myself heading to the dining hall, my stomach dropping further with every step.

Not everyone is in the hall when I arrive. I count only seven girls, excluding Lara and Valerie. While I don’t know what’s keeping Lara, I’m sure Valerie is glued to her mirror, making sure she looks extra special for the Ashfords.

The first five seats at the table have place sets different from the rest, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they are for the Ashfords.

In preparation for the banquet, we were instructed that no one was to take a seat before the Ashfords did, so everyone is standing, just lingering until they arrive.

I spot Eliza across the room and make my way towards her. But before I take more than three steps forward, I feel a warm hand at my waist, and I stiffen.

“April.” Peter grins at me, his perfect white teeth almost blinding me.

“Peter,” I greet, forcing a polite smile when all I want to do is wrench his hand off me.

“Come sit next to me,” he declares loud enough for the other girls in the room to turn in our direction.

My eyes widen. “Um, I don’t think—”

Just then, Samuel, Marisol, and Lucas walk in, nod a general greeting to the crowd, and move to take their seats.

Peter also moves and, to my horror, applies pressure on my waist, forcing me to either move with him or cause a scene.

Samuel takes his place at the head of the table, and Marisol follows suit on his right side. Lucas sits at his left. To my horror, Peter leads me right up to them, taking a seat next to his mother.

“What are you doing?” He smirks as he pats the seat next to him. “Sit down.”

Marisol glances at me, her dark blue eyes—identical to Peter’s—piercing through me, and I find myself mutely sliding into the seat, feeling bamboozled.

The rest of the girls take their seats, and just as I note that the seat next to Lucas is empty, Nathan strolls in, Valerie hot on his heels.

Before I can acknowledge once again just how beautiful Nathan is and how dashing he looks in his dark suit, or that next to him, Valerie looks even more gorgeous than I could ever hope to be, Peter lets out an exaggerated gasp, and I turn to him in question.

“My bad!” he says as he stands. “Nathan, I forgot that you were supposed to sit next to Mom.” He turns to me and smirks as my eyes widen.

Then he points to the empty seat across the table from him. “That’s my seat.” He points back to the seat he just vacated. “This is Nathan’s.”

With a wink in my direction that he doesn’t bother hiding, Peter heads to the other side of the table, taking Nathan’s would-be seat just as Valerie also sits next to him.

Nathan pauses, his hand on the seat Peter just stole, looking unsure. A chill runs through me when I realize that the only other seat on the table set for the Ashfords is the one beside me.

My heart pounds loudly in tune with every step Nathan takes—towards me.