Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 88

It was glaringly obvious that Miranda had reached the exact same conclusion.

Without a word, she spun on her heel and marched back toward the house.

Frederick grabbed her arm. "It had to be Chloe who told him. Don't go rushing up there just to coddle her. You need to thoroughly interrogate her about what actually happened last night."

Miranda sighed. "I know."

She wanted to know what had really gone down, too. Logically speaking, Chloe wouldn't have just casually blabbed the secret of the doghouse.

The three of them had formed a strict pact long ago: no one was ever to mention it.

Miranda went upstairs and knocked on her daughter's door—which, of course, was still the room Stella had forcibly claimed upon her return.

Chloe, having slept the entire day and regained a sliver of sanity, opened the door. "Mom."

"Chloe, you need to tell me exactly what happened between you and Julius last night."

Chloe replied, clearly agitated, "Mom, nothing happened between us last night. Just drop it."

"Nothing happened? If nothing happened, why did Julius show up at our house tonight? How did he know Clara Todd's ashes were in the doghouse? Are you still going to lie to me?"

Remembering the sheer terror of the previous night, Chloe suppressed a shudder. She didn't dare confess the actual truth.

She lowered her eyes, thought for a second, and said, "Last night, Julius and I just had dinner and talked. We ended up having some drinks.

"He kept pouring me more, and I eventually got drunk. I must have accidentally spilled the secret about the doghouse while I was out of it."

Miranda looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Ugh, yes, Mom! Why would I lie to you?"

Julius shrugged off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and went to wash up.

When he returned, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "This is the first time I've seen you cook. I assumed you didn't know how."

"How could I not know? After my mom died, I cooked all the meals for the Hawthorne Family. If it wasn't good, I got screamed at."

Hearing her say that, and remembering the state of her mother's urn, Julius felt a sharp pang in his chest.

He pulled her tighter. "It just so happens we can both cook. From now on, whenever we have free time at home, let's cook together. Deal?"

"Deal. You can be the head chef, and I'll be your sous chef. Come on, try the food and see if it's up to your standards."

"Alright, let's see. And don't worry—even if it's terrible, I would never yell at you."

"Haha, if you ever dared yell at me, I'd secretly slip laxatives into your food the next time."