Thanks to tineytruths for the graphic at the top!

Comment of Chapter Eighteen goes to crazycalamity for your binge reading skills! Thanks for reading the story 💖

Thanks for all your patience with cliffhangers, guys!! Also, a little note that TBS is 26 chapters long (... so only 7 updates left! This is about ~normal~ book length, but short for a Wattpad book, I know!). I'll hopefully have some bonus chapters ready for afterwards, and possibly even some extensions to add in in a second draft. Enjoy the update 🥰

I wasn't the only one who was Penelope Aldgate's spy.

"What's she got on you?" I asked in a hushed voice. I was terrified of the others overhearing. Of breaking down the fragile structure I'd built around me.

Ella gave me a sad smile. "Would you answer that question if I asked it of you?"

Touché.

My mouth hung open as I grasped for something to say. How could she do this to Poppy? It was no secret that Poppy was crazy into Ella. But, then again, wasn't I doing the exact same thing to Felix?

"I-I don't know what to do," I said in a whisper. "I don't know how to get out of this."

Ella shrugged, her posture defeated too. "My bet's we don't. We just have to hope he does something terrible enough for her to dump his ass."

"Or he needs to dump hers," I said.

"The last thing I want is for this to end on his terms. If she's bitter, she's coming for us," Ella said quickly. "Anyway, there's no answer here, Josie. We've signed away our souls."

For the rest of the night I kept wondering just how many spies Penelope had. Clearly, I wasn't her only puppet.

Ella had dropped me back at Penelope's after we were done shopping. I hadn't had the chance to talk to her alone because Poppy was still in the car. Instead of Ubering back to mine, or even to Felix's, I let myself into Penelope's studio. I started opening drawers and cupboards, trying to find anything that might give me more information. I didn't know what exactly I was expecting to find, but any sort of documentation seemed like it might help.

But, her house was practically set up as a show-home. Some of the storage spaces were even empty. Though her vanity was filled with make-up, from what I'd found she didn't even have a pen.

I was starting to feel dirty looking through someone else's things—no matter how bad of a person they were—and so I soon found myself collapsed on her sofa, my heart pounding loud.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

All of a sudden there was a sharp knock on the door and I froze. I was holding my breath, waiting for it to burst open.

"Penelope?"

It was Cole's voice. Shit.

"Are you in there? I know you told me you were in Berlin tonight, but I can see the light on..."

I saw shadows move beneath the door frame.

"You have to believe me. I haven't broken any promises. I'm still yours."

My eyes were practically bulging from their sockets as I watched him rattle the door handle with horror.

I heard a long sigh.

"Well, whatever. Call me when you're ready to talk."

Slowly, one by one, my muscles loosened as I heard his footsteps leave. When I was sure he was gone, I snuck out into the night, relieved when I didn't see his car lingering in the parking lot. Too scared to order a car directly from Penelope's complex, I walked a few streets over, shivering in the crisp night.

My prom dress was folded into a vacuum-bag at the bottom of my closet. It was crinkled when I took it out and put it onto the hanger, but if I could get it steam cleaned before the weekend it might be do-able for Penelope's party. I ran a hand over the glitter with a sad smile.

I'd been in love the moment I saw it. I was with my mom in some designer shop at the fancy end of the mall. As a coping mechanism I used frequently during those years, I focused on the glitz and glam my parents could offer me instead of the pressure they placed onto me. A fast car. A phenomenal ball gown.

"The red," Mom said. "The red looks good on you."

I remember hanging the dress on the back of my door and gazing at it every night leading up to prom. My mom didn't offer compliments easily, especially when it came to superficial things like appearance.

I didn't have a prom date. Nic and I had broken up the week before, so I was supposed to go with my group of girlfriends, and we had a pre-conceived plan to dump a flask of rum in the punch bowl. I was completely free, for what felt like the first time in months.

It was supposed to be perfect.

But, by the time I'd strapped on my own corsage and stepped down our spiral stair case, my parents were waiting for me at the dining table with a stack of paperwork in front of them.

"Sit," Dad said. Mom watched wordlessly, not a single comment on the effort I'd put into my hair and make-up.

"We need you to sign these for us, Joselyn," Mom said. "For the sake of our family."

"What are they?" I'd asked. I remember being too afraid to actually sit, instead fiddling with the huge ruby ring on my finger. I was still looking toward Mom, waiting for the smallest of compliments.

"It doesn't matter what they are. What matters is that it's time to step up and defend our reputation."

"I..." My voice trailed off, I couldn't form words. I already felt the pressure of tears building. Dad had been so angry the past week, hating that Mom had still taken me to get a dress when I'd done the one thing they'd forbade me to do. Let Nic go.

"And to do that—" Mom looked at dad, then back to me. Maybe with the tiniest ghost of regret dancing in her deep brown eyes. "We need you to legally marry Nicholas Clemonte."

So instead of going to senior prom, I got married.

I went to Felix's on Friday afternoon. I sat on his sofa backwards, my chin on my folded hands as I watched him in the kitchen.

"You're being very quiet," he said, kneading pizza dough. I watched the tiny muscles in his forearms flex and the way he flicked his hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess it's just family stuff."

I wish it were just family stuff. But now family stuff was interfering with Penelope which was interfering with him. The only aspect of my life that made me feel... safe. Even though it was anything but.

"Want to talk?"

I did, I really did. But if he knew the truth, he'd know who I really was. And there was no way we'd have this fragile connection when he found out.

But, the thing was, it didn't feel fragile. When we kissed or touched it didn't feel like things would fall apart at any moment. That one secret alone would be enough to destroy the rush I felt from the moment we connected.

Maybe I could start small. It could start tomorrow, even. I'd been thinking over how I'd get to the party. With Penelope home in the morning, I couldn't exactly pretend to live at her complex.

"I'll be alright," I said, almost forgetting that his question was still hanging in the air.

"Will food help?" he asked.

I smiled, rising from my spot and entering the kitchen. His hands were covered in flour, still kneading the dough on the benchtop. I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his torso and resting my cheek on the back of his sweater. I felt his back muscles roll as he shaped the pizza base.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked. I could feel his voice vibrate through the back of his ribcage.

"Physically, yes," I said. I screwed my eyes shut. What if Cole did dump Penelope and she resorted to exposing me? This could be a real problem—trapped in a room with Penelope and Felix, someone who knew all my secrets and someone who might never forgive me if he did.

"You know, I feel a little the same," he said. "I'm not really a big fan of Penelope's birthday parties."

"She does this every year?"

"Yeah. Last year it was the roaring twenties, and the year before that secret forest. It's like high school prom wasn't enough. Her and Cole went crazy trying to win prom king and queen, and I think Penelope's still riding on that high."

"And Cole?"

He laughed lightly. The sound was nice. "I think he'd rather move on from the high school glory days."

Considering he was seeing someone else, it seemed he'd definitely moved on from any feelings for Penelope, at least. It sounded as if he were about to continue his sentence. He took a deep breath, and then shook his head slowly.

"What were you about to say?"

He turned, careful to hold his hands upwards so he wouldn't get flour on me.

"Penelope has ways of getting under people's skin," Felix said. He was looking at me so intently I felt I might break beneath the scrutiny. "I need you to know that."

I gulped. "Should I be scared?"

My voice wavered. If Felix noticed how uncomfortable I was, he didn't show it.

"Just don't get on her bad side."

Again, I was thrown into the catastrophic idea that Felix knew more than he should. I wanted to panic, but also the way he was looking at me told me he wasn't about to call me out and throw me under the bus.

"How well do you actually know her?" I asked. Did he even know what she was really capable of?

"I know her better than I'd like," he said. He dodged me so he could go to the sink and wash his hands.

"What are you saying?" I asked, an edge of humor to my voice.

"I mean, not in that way, but she likes to... control people. Especially people around Cole."

I knew that already, of course, I was one of her puppets. But...was Felix?

"That's toxic."

"Uh-huh."

He was pulling things out of the fridge now—vegan cheese, a bag of spinach, artichokes, and tomato sauce. Of course he was prepared for this. He always seemed to have a meal planned and food for me in there.

For the first time in the last few months I felt like I wasn't completely alone. Ella was like me. Felix knew what Penelope was like. But would it be enough?

Not with the secrets I was harboring.

"Let's not talk about that anymore, though," Felix said with a kind smile. He paused his food-prep to walk to me and wrap me in his arms. I felt his lips against the top of my head. "It's in the past."

But, it was still my present.

Penelope's pay check had come through for the week, but she was still yet to reply to me since I sent her the photo. As far as I knew, she was done with me, and if she was done with me, then I was in trouble.

"Come on, help me put these toppings on, I'm trying so hard to impress you here."

After dinner and a shower shared with Felix, I curled up beside him in his bed, a candle flickering on his bedside table, reminding me of the night we'd shared in the Kensington beach house. Maybe this was the last night we'd share forever, if everything backfired tomorrow night. I closed my eyes and took in the scents and sounds of Felix and his bedroom, tracing patterns on the smooth skin of his chest and planting a kiss on his shoulder.

I was quite possibly the most selfish girl in the world, but thinking about it, I'd never felt this reckless before. Like it was worth losing everything—worth the destruction that would inevitably come—just to share another moment as intimate as this. Growing up, I'd never felt safe or truly loved. Felix noticed when I was lost in my thoughts. He thought of things I didn't know I needed, whether it was a distraction from my reality or just to warm my hand beneath the lecture tables. I don't think anyone's ever thought about me like that.

Don't cry, Joselyn. Don't cry.

I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, feeling his full lips open beneath mine as he grinned, his hand slowly trailing the length of my spine and pulling the back of my thigh so I was wrapped against him.

"I hope you know you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he murmured as his hands stroked my curls and his eyes locked mine in a trance.

"If you tell me that again I might have to stay here forever," I whispered.

He was too much—too perfect—for this to ever work. But for now, I wanted to bask in it, to take every moment and etch it into my mind, my soul.

Deserving or not.