Never Tell Secrets (18+)

Ch 13 - Die Pretty

This chapter contains mature themes.

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How much did you read about my brother?

"Enough to know that he had a screw loose."

Alfie didn't laugh.

"For your sake, don't ever let my mother hear you say that." That would be easy, as I had no plans on ever meeting Caroline Tell. I swallowed my nerves, mentally preparing for what was to come. "Did you read enough to know that he liked to attend the Never Tell parties?"

I shook my head. I'd stopped reading when Alfie was around twenty.

"He didn't start attending until the last few years of his life. Up until then, he'd shown no interest in my club, except to rub it in my face how ashamed our parents were of my life choices. I never bothered pointing out to him that I'd built a mult-million dollar company off my own back, whereas he lived entirely in our father's pocket." He took a breath and continued on. 

"In the first few years, the club's existence was largely only known within our own circles. But by the time I was twenty, the club had gained global notoriety and Charles wanted in. Not in running the club, he didn't care about owning shares, but the wildness of our events was known everywhere and that he definitely wanted a part of." 

Despite the fire, I shivered at the idea of that sociopath being let loose at one of those parties. 

"You're right to shiver. My brother was a barely leashed animal. He could present the most charming disposition but that exterior, that mask, it could slip in an instant and underneath was cold violence. I saw him snap more than once growing up. His eyes would go dead and black, like a shark's eyes, and I knew someone was going to get hurt." He paused. I watched his trembling hands clench and release.

"He scared you."

"He terrified me," he said, forcing a sickened laugh out of his throat. "Imagine growing up with a psychopath in your house. Of course, my parents ignored it. They looked the other way and I was the weak one for not being able to do the same. My empathy embarrassed them." He paused again, taking a shuddering breath as he fought to calm himself. I sat in the silence, giving him time. 

"When I was twenty one, that's when he started coming to club events. He loved the club but that love wasn't reciprocated. Not by me or my Tellers, anyway. The club was wild and debauched but we had rules in place that would protect everyone. To even be considered for membership you had to have a certain amount in your bank account."

"No poor people allowed?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Right. It's not as snobbish as it sounds. Money gives you power, Lola. All of our members were wealthy so they were all on an equal footing. If anyone stepped out of line, if anyone got hurt, they had the resources to deal with it. A person without those resources would have been vulnerable and a target for the more nefarious sorts."

I sat with that for a moment. Reluctantly, I had to admit it made some sense. How much power had Alfie had over me? He could afford private security who would implant trackers on my phone and vehicle, who would steal my birth control... with my meagre resources, what could I do in return? In a club like that, with drugs and alcohol and rampant sex, a wealthy person could wield all sorts of power over a poorer one.

"I know you don't like it, but I didn't want to create an environment where a vulnerable person might feel obligated to perform certain acts in the hopes of gaining financial prizes from the wealthy members. That's a grey area of consent that I don't like to dabble in."