Breaking the Broken
Six
Family Resemblance
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All of the things I really like to do are either immoral, illegal or fattening.
Alexander Woollcott
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And I wonder how it started
How we became so cold hearted
Cassie Steele "Empty Eyes"
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"Not that I don't enjoy all this constant togetherness, but what the fuck are we doing Kathryn?" his impatient voice filled the limo. Smiling condescendingly at her stepbrother, Kathryn Merteuil kept her bright green eyes glued to the tinted windows of the limo. It was climbing steadily up the mountain, winding road after winding road, just as it had been for the better part of two hours.
"Kaaaaaaaaaaat," Sebastian whined, evoking thoughts of a six-year-old being dragged on holiday with his parents.
"Be quiet. We'll be there soon!" Kathryn snapped.
"How soon?" he inquired.
She said nothing but shot him a look saying 'You can't be serious', and turned her attention back to the window. Carefully examining the scenery, she noted with a small smile that not much had change since she had last been here.
"Are we there yet?"
With an exasperated sigh, Kathryn lifted herself up and moved to the other side of the limo. The sprawling grassy knolls, clear blue lakes, and abundance of trees and flowers made painted a beautiful picture. However, it's not one that you would expect a girl like Kathryn to appreciate. At first, she didn't. Then, under the careful guidance of one much older and more experienced than she, Kathryn realized that this was just the place to clear your head, relax, then plot some more. Since then, she had made regular pilgrimages to Mount Marvel and the sprawling estate that sat atop it.
"How about now?" Sebastian persisted. Snapping her eyes from the window to his, she saw that the annoyance in his voice hadn't seeped into his handsome face. He sat there, staring at her, wearing a joyful smile at finally getting through to her. Sebastian Valmont was a man easily bored. He moved from girl to girl as he did from place to place, from book to book, from thought to thought. Some might diagnose that as A.D.H.D. Fortunately, Sebastian, like many other trust fund children in his place, had no need to focus… or think at all, when it came down to it.
"Sebastian…"
"Yes, Kat?"
"If you say one more word, I think I may have to castrate you with a manicure scissor."
"Don't be ridiculous Kathryn, you don't even have a—" he stopped short in his sentence as the light glinted sinisterly off a tiny pair of shears poking out from a large Gucci bag on the floor. With a defeated sigh, Sebastian said. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"
"Certainly. Tromperie Manor."
His sandy eyebrows furrowed, but Kathryn didn't feel like answering anything else. Holding up a perfectly manicured hand, she halted all further questioning. Casting her a disgruntled look from his piercing blue eyes, Sebastian sat back in his seat. Kathryn looked back out the window, beginning to feel herself recharge as they got closer and closer to her favorite place in the world.
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Guarded carefully behind miles and miles of natural barriers, twisting black iron gates, and thick stone walls, a woman cackled maniacally. Casting aside her copy of Cruel Intentions, she got up out of her bed, exhibiting unnatural spryness for a woman of her age. Over seventy years had done nothing to her agility, and little to her beauty. Looking into a mirror was always a pleasant experience, as she was greeted with the same flawless complexion and porcelain skin that she had passed on to the girls who came after her.
Tossing an irritated glance at the man still in her bed, she wondered what he was doing. He certainly didn't expect to be invited to stay, did he?
"Martin, darling…" she began carefully. "Whatever are you doing?"
"Well, I was—"
"Yes, I'm sure you were. And I must say, I do regret deeply, but you have to leave right now. I have other obligations this afternoon."
"But I---"
"Now," the woman commanded; the look of false warmth in her eyes now extinguished, leaving nothing but cold, green hardness in its place. Her tone was polite but frosty, and if they weren't located on a hill, Martin would be heading for one right about now.
"As you wish."
Smiling satisfactorily, she crossed the large master bedroom and swung shut the door to her massive closet without so much as a backwards glance. Browsing intently through rack after rack of clothing, she finally selected something to wear. Looking in the mirror while applying makeup, she stared at her shocking green eyes, porcelain complexion and dainty features only slightly lined with age, and wondered how on earth she was a grandmother.
Not that she wasn't proud of her grandchildren. On the contrary, they were her pride and joy, while she considered her own children miserable failures. Bustling about her bedchamber, she reflected upon her family and its dynasty, as she did most mornings. If she left nothing behind, at least there was the Merteuil legacy. The one constant kink in this plan would be some of her thoroughly useless female family members. They had yet to learn that no man was truly worthy of them, and instead played the vapid trophy wife to their impotent husbands.
Her eyes fell upon a picture of Kathryn. Not the youngest, not the oldest, but her favorite by far. The young Merteuil had all the features of her grandmother, along with her elegance, intelligent and cunning. Her only pitfall would be her unfortunate 'outing' in New York. But that was ancient history by now, and as all grandmothers do, Isabelle overlooked that minor detail.
Chuckling at the booklet lying innocently on her bedside table, Isabelle pondered the damage done to her family's reputation by it. Normally, she would be out for the blood of anyone who dared to speak a word against her family, but it was different with Sebastian. It always was. Honestly, if her moronic gold-digger of a daughter hadn't married Edward Valmont, she would've considered arranged a marriage for Kathryn. Old-fashioned as that was, nobody dared go against Isabelle. Then she had been pleased to have him in the family whatever way she could get him.
Isabelle always prided herself on being an excellent judge of character. She could spot a fake among the genuine with her eyes closed. After all, nobody could put on a show like a Merteuil woman. She could tell that the young Valmont was something special the moment she laid eyes on him. And she wasn't blind like the rest. Isabelle could tell immediately that there was something special between her prized granddaughter and her stepbrother.
Strutting purposefully down the hall, she stopped and softened when she passed a family portrait. Green eyes gazed upon rows of beautiful women, attractive husbands and perfect children, finally coming to rest on the one she watched almost as carefully. Cassidy.
Dear, sweet Cassidy. The child was a firecracker, she would give her that. She was vicious in an endearing sort of way, to her grandmother at least. She had always lacked the trait that made Isabelle and Kathryn so successful though, whatever that was. It was as if there was a secret ingredient that she was so close to obtaining, but it slipped away at the final moment. Isabelle was very proud of her accomplishments thus far, wrecking all sorts of havoc and raising all sorts of hell, and to her credit, she hadn't been caught yet.
As these thoughts swirled among her, a freshly waxed limousine continued its slow crawl up the winding roads leading to the giant, intimidating wrought iron gates that would lead them to Tromperie Manor, and the woman farther up on the long line of black widows.
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"This is nice. Is this what you wanted to show me? Because I've seen huge, creepy mansions before. I've lived in a few of them, actually. Can we go now?"
Sebastian knew good and well that Kathryn had a reason for bringing them up there, and it was probably a very good one. However, halfway through their journey, he discovered that his constant commentary was irritating her. It made the tiny vein in her temple tick. And there were few things that Valmont liked so much as to torture his stepsister. Nevertheless, Kathryn seemed to be getting wise to his game and only smiled at him before raising her tiny hand to the large brass knocker.
"Chester," Kathryn greeted the man with a curt nod. The butler rushed past them promptly, popping open the trunk to their limousine.
Raising his eyebrows slightly, but with mirth in his expressive eyes and laughter coating his throat, Sebastian asked, "Does he sit and roll over too?"
"I'm sure he does, but he doesn't play dead nearly as well as you do," Kathryn spat bitingly, and Sebastian's face fell.
"We're back to this again…"
"Yes, we're back to this again, Sebastian! You—"
"Kathryn, darling!" a delighted cry rang through the domed foyer of the massive manor.
"Grandma!" Kathryn squealed, and Sebastian was surprised in spite of himself at how joyful she looked.
The older woman and her mirror image embraced at the bottom of the curving marble staircase, and Valmont, leaning against the doorframe, watched with a sort of detached fascination. It wasn't often that Kathryn showed genuine emotion, but Isabelle had always been able to invoke it.
Turning her green gaze from her beloved granddaughter to the young girl's companion, she drank in the sight of a smirking Sebastian Valmont.
"You're not dead," Isabelle drawled with a delighted smile.
"You either. I wonder who'll get there first," he quipped, approaching. Kathryn looked scandalized, but Isabelle just laughed.
"I see you still have your sense of humor, Mr. Valmont."
"And I see you've remained your marvelous looks. It's nice to see you again, 'Belle," Sebastian said, kissing her hand.
"I knew you were too much of a smug bastard to die," the older woman admitted, and everyone in the room laughed.
Taking the older woman's arm, Kathryn began to lead Isabelle up the stairs. "Come, grandmother, we've got scheming to do!"
Both cackled as they made their way up the stairs, catching up on everything. Sebastian watched from his place at the bottom of the steps, amused by this sudden surge of affection from the two usually distant women. About to follow Chester up to his room, he passed a man speeding down the steps. Scanning him briefly, taking in his disheveled clothing and indignant expression, Sebastian registered with a chuckle what must've happened, and patted the man on the back good-naturedly before continuing his jog up the stairs.
"Tough break, man."
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Humm… I'm not sure how that turned out, but I promised an update, and I've hit a very random writer's block, so I tried. Believe me, this seems like filler but it has a purpose. Lol. So please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!
Sam