“It sucked,” I admitted honestly, stepping closer to the vanity to show Daphne my hair. “Some asshole cut my ponytail in class.” I ran my fingers through the jagged strands. “Do you have scissors by chance?”
Her face immediately paled, and she set the curling iron down.
“Shit,” she muttered. “I was worried that was you.” She opened the drawer, rummaged around, and handed me scissors.
“Thanks.” I stood behind her, trimming the uneven pieces while catching fallen strays in my free hand.
Enzo had taken more than I realized. At least a few inches.
My hair no longer brushed the middle of my back. Now, it fell a little past my shoulders.
“Is cutting girls’ hair a common practice here?” I asked, snipping another uneven lock. “Like some kind of hazing thing?”
Daphne chose her words carefully. “I wouldn’t say …common.”
“What would you say, then?” I discarded my hair in the trash.
“Enzo … he enjoys reactions.”
I snorted. “He’s a fucking weirdo.”
“Remember when I said to avoid the Marchettis?”
I nodded.
“He’sa Marchetti. And it seems you caught his attention.”
“I didn’t do anything to catch his attention!” I shrieked, throwing my arms up and pacing behind her. “I was minding my own business in class. He came in late, sat behind me, and”—I stopped my pacing to hold up my hair—“cut my ponytail out of nowhere, like he was bored and decided to play craft time.”
She returned to curling her hair, not saying a word, but I could tell she was holding back laughter at mycraft timecomment.
“Has he done that before?” I asked, already dreading her answer.
I thought back to what the guy at the library had told me.
The Night Sons. Clarissa. That stupid freaking window.
“Cut a girl’s hair?” Daphne cocked her head, thinking. “Not that I’m aware of.” Her shoulders slumped. “Look, just ignore him. Make Enzo think you’re not worth his time. If he cuts your hair again, don’t react.”
“If he cuts my hair again, I’m shaving those preppy-boy strands right off his demon head.”
She cracked a smile. “I’m serious. Even if he cuts your hair, your clothes, or, hell, burns down your family home,ignore him.”
My jaw dropped. “He burns down homes?”
“He did Clarissa’s, and I told her to tell him she’d hated that house and to thank him for it. You have to recognize their games and beat them at it.” She shrugged and went back to curling her hair.
“Heburned downher home?”
At this point, I was positive Enzo was the one who had pushed Clarissa out the window. Hell, I was positive that he’dcommitted every crime in the Westchester area. It all seemed in his wheelhouse.
She flicked her curling wand in the air. “They had insurance, and he waited until the family dog was at the groomer.” She dropped the curling iron and grabbed a lip gloss tube.
I slumped on the edge of her bed, next to a pile of stuffed animals. “Some guy in the library said Enzo chose me as hisFawn.”
Daphne froze.
“What the hell is a Fawn, Daphne?”
