Somewhere behind me, the string quartet began a new piece of music, slow and haunting, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ryker moving towards the centre of the room. His lips turned up in one corner with the approximation of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as our mother appeared in the doorway. She was flanked by two of our staff, who were carrying an enormous cake topped by sparklers that covered her entire torso from view.
Oh. For a moment, I’d forgotten why we were celebrating.
“Nova. Come and join your brother.” My father appeared at my side, holding out his arm.
I nodded once, shooting an apologetic glance towards Vesper. Placing my hand in the crook of his arm, I straightened my shoulders, making sure my face was an expressionless mask as we made our way to the centre of the drawing room. Eyes followed us, the music coming to a crescendo as we reached our destination. It was ridiculous—all this pomp and ceremony when our roots were as far from the elite as it was possible to get. My great-grandfather had built his kingdom from scraps, investing every penny he had in strengthening our position. My grandfather, and then my father, had more lofty ambitions, though. Target the elite and the obscenely wealthy rather than ordinary, hard-working people. And so we had to play the part. Hence the giant manor house in the Cotswolds, the diamond earrings glittering in my mother’s lobes, the flashy cars parked on the driveway, and the rich, connected people milling around—most of whom were associates of my parents, rather than anyone Ryker or I knew.
“Happy eighteenth birthday, darlings.” My mother glanced between me and my brother, giving us a smile that was just as false as the one I’d pasted on.
“Thank you,” I murmured. As the two members of staff carefully placed the cake on a small table one of the security team had brought in, Ryker came to stand beside me. The tip of his little finger brushed mine in a silent show of solidarity, and I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing as I turned to give him a genuine smile. “Happy birthday, Ry.”
“Same to you.” He leaned into me, lowering his voice. “If you wanna escape for a bit after this, I’ll cover for you.”
“Will you? Or will you be too busy?” I gave a pointedglance to the cluster of girls nearby shooting him blatantly admiring looks.
“Mmm, yeah. I might be busy.”
“Ugh.”
His teasing expression disappeared. “Seriously. I’ve got your back. Arson and Jay will watch out for you too.”
“I think you’re underestimating their brainpower with the number of available girls here tonight. They do all their thinking with their dicks,” I whispered harshly, and I watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, only just managing to keep his cool composure.
Our parents interrupted the moment, my father clearing his throat before shooting Ryker a warning look, and we both straightened up. My gaze landed on the cake, and I launched into effusive praise, while Ryker inserted noises of agreement every now and then. I doubted he was even listening. My mother nodded along with everything I said with a smile fixed on her face, while my father stood there impassively, angling his body towards us as if he were interested in the conversation, even though I knew his focus was directed elsewhere. From the outside, I was certain it looked as if we were having a bonding moment—a family celebrating a milestone birthday. The father and son, both tall and dark-haired, with penetrating grey eyes and stern expressions. The identical blonde of the mother and daughter, with eyes of a lighter, softer grey.
My father clapped his hands together, and the room turned silent almost immediately. When Graham Thorpe, aka Guillotine Graham, demanded your attention, you gave it to him, or you’d quickly regret it.
“Thank you all for being here to celebrate the coming of age of my children, Ryker and Nova.” He paused, waiting for the applause to die down, before he delivered his fatal blow. “I hope you will also join me in celebrating the upcoming joining of the Thorpe and Volkov families.”
I didn’t dare look towards the bar, where my future fiancé stood, just as tall and imposing as my father and brother, and even more cold.
All I wanted was to escape.
In my room, I carefully seated myself on the edge of my bed, reaching for my phone, which I’d left charging on my pillow. I wanted to throw myself down, but if I reappeared downstairs with a hair out of place, my mother would have something to say about it.
“Hi.”
My heart stuttered, my hand flying to my chest as I gasped at the figure that had appeared out of nowhere. “Bloody hell, Alek, don’t do that to me! You know what I think of those nicknames you guys have, but yours really is fitting. You’re as silent and scary as a ghost.”
Aleksi flopped back on my bed with a grin. At leasthedidn’t have to worry about messing his hair up. The next second, though, he flew up, clutching at his side, swearing under his breath. I opened my mouth, but he waved me away.
“It’s nothing. Just twisted weirdly when I landed.” Setting his jaw, he removed his hand from his side, dredging up a smile that was far less genuine than the previous one he’d given me. “Sorry for the scare. But I didn’t come up with that Ghost nickname, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t group me with the self-professed ‘king’ and his sycophants.”
I gritted my teeth at the reminder that while my brother was nice to me, he was an absolute asshole to…well, a lot of other people. Aleksi promised me over and over that my brother had never physically hurt him, and if I found out he had, I would have stepped in straight away, forbidden friendship or not. But words could cut like a knife and scarred just as deeply.
Words directed at my best friend, who I wasn’t even allowed to be friends with.
Shifting closer to him, I met his gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay? As for my brother, I’m sorry. I wish things were different. So badly.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I’m fine, and I know. But we can’t change our families.”
“Yeah.” It was so unfair, though. Aleksi was my best friend, and I had to keep it a secret because of our families. The daughter of a crime lord and the son of the uncorruptible mayor who would love nothing more than the downfall of the Thorpe Syndicate? It would never be allowed.
We’d become accidental friends when we’d been paired on an art project in year nine at school, and we’d discovered a shared interest in artists, and from there, a love of similar music. Somehow, he’d become my best friend, and I loved him—in a completely platonic way. One, he was gay, and two, even if he hadn’t been, I wasn’t attracted to him. No, I had to be attracted to someone I hated.
Maybe I really was a masochist.
Jay’s face flashed through my mind, and I grimaced, redirecting my brain away from my first, stolen kiss. “Did you see the Sleep Token announcement this morning? You were right about the tour.”
