“We're having a little get-together at my place tonight,” she purrs, running a finger down my arm. “Thought you and theboys might want to join us.” Her friends giggle behind her like this is all part of some practiced routine.
I look at her finger on my skin like it's a cockroach I'm about to crush. “Take your hand off me.”
She blinks, confusion crossing her face before she quickly recovers, pulling her hand back but not stepping away. “Playing hard to get? I like that.”
“No, I'm playing 'not interested,'” I say, my voice flat and cold. “Not now, not ever. Do I need to spell it out for you? I. Don't. Want. Your. Cunt.”
The gym goes eerily quiet. Even her friends stop giggling, eyes wide with shock.
“You don't mean that,” she says, her voice smaller now. “Everyone knows we'd be perfect together?—”
“Perfect?” I laugh, and it's not a nice sound. “The only thing you'd be perfect for is a quick fuck in a bathroom stall that I'd regret before I even zipped up my pants. And I don't do regrets.”
Her face flushes red, embarrassment and anger warring within her.
“And if you ever touch me again,” I step closer, towering over her, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper that only she and her little friends can hear, “I'll make sure the Blake name disappears from every board, every donor list, and every fucking social register in this state. Your daddy's company will mysteriously lose all its contracts, your trust fund will evaporate, and you'll be explaining to Daddy Dearest why your entire bloodline got wiped out because you couldn't keep your desperate hands to yourself.”
Her face drains of color so fast I'm almost impressed. The mascara-rimmed eyes that were trying to seduce me seconds ago now fill with tears.
Behind me, I hear Cassian let out a low whistle followed by poorly concealed laughter. Asher doesn't even try to hide it, his cackling echoing through the gym.
“You—you can't do that,” she stammers, but her voice trembles with the knowledge that I absolutely fucking can.
“Try me.” I smile, all teeth and threat. “Now get the fuck out of my sight before I decide to make an example of you anyway.”
The girls huddle together like frightened sheep, whispering furiously as they back away. Serena's face is a twisted mask of humiliation and rage as she storms off, her heels clicking aggressively against the polished floor, her minions scurrying after her.
“Jesus Christ, Devereux,” Asher chokes out between laughs as we push through the locker room doors. “Did you have to nuke her entire existence? I was planning to maybe hook up with Taylor next weekend.”
I strip off my sweat-soaked jersey, tossing it into my locker. “Find someone who doesn't make my dick want to crawl back inside my body.”
Cassian shakes his head, still smirking as he unties his shoes. “You know her father sits on the university board, right? He's not exactly a nobody.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” I grab my towel, heading for the showers. “Blake Industries has been sucking Devereux Corp's dick for contracts since before we were born. Her father knows better than to cross my family.”
“Still,” Asher calls after me, “you could've just said no like a normal person instead of threatening generational extinction.”
“Normal is boring,” I call back, turning on the shower and stepping under the scalding spray. The hot water pounds against my tired muscles, washing away sweat and tension. I close my eyes, trying to clear my head, but all I see is Seraphina.
My cock stirs, hardening despite my exhaustion. She’s still fucking haunting me. I turn the water to cold, gritting my teeth as the icy spray hits me like a thousand needles. That’s better. The last thing I need is to walk out of here with a fucking hard-on for my half-sister. Not that anyone knows that.
Chapter 2
Seraphina
Father Andrews' hand leaves a phantom smear on my skin like toxic waste, like something I need to scrub away with steel wool and bleach. I stride out of the chapel, my shoes clicking against the marble floor in angry staccato bursts. My body crawls with revulsion, and I fight the urge to scratch at the places his gaze lingered too long.
Gross priests and yet a beautiful chapel. Fucking St. Augustine University.
Three years away, and nothing's changed. Same gothic architecture with its gargoyles leering down, same perfectly manicured lawns where secrets get buried, same carnivorous men hiding behind suits and titles. I don't want to be here. I never wanted to come back.
“Darling, it's for the best,” my mother had said last week, her diamond bracelets jangling as she packed my suitcases. “After what happened with Aurelio, we need to reestablish connections.”
What happened with Aurelio? Like my brother hadn't been found half-dead in a bathtub, wrists slashed, the Onyx Dominion’s symbol carved into his chest. Like it was just some unfortunate accident instead of a warning.
I cross the quad, keeping my head down. Students mill around between classes, their voices echoing off stone walls that have witnessed generations of the same bullshit power plays. Some of them stare as I pass. They know who I am. The Carvelli girl who disappeared three years ago, whose family fled after being disgraced by a shitty business deal. It was such an embarrassment.
The girl who was Lucien Devereux's...what? Not his girlfriend. Not his property, though he certainly acted like it.
