How she managed to transform from the ruined, debased girl on her bedroom floor to a princess is beyond me. Perry has something to do with it, and apparently Keaton and Tinsley as well. I’m not sure what the young Constantines are up to, but for once, I’m grateful they’ve seemed to band together on my behalf.
It’s because they know.
Ash is mine, and those triple fuckwads messed with what’s mine.
My toy. My employee. My investment.
If Dad taught us anything, it’s family above everything, even money. They’ve chosen to help me while not even knowing the full story.
What is the full story, Winston?
As much as Ash would love to be in on my inner monologue to somehow prove I’ve fallen for her, it isn’t true. She’s merely something that belongs to me, and I’m far too spoiled to allow other children to play with what’s mine. That’s all this is. Me being territorial over something I’ve invested time in and paid dearly for.
“You have her until midnight, brother,” Perry says, squeezing my shoulder.
“What happens then? Does Cinderelliott turn into a pumpkin?”
He chuckles. “No, that’s when Mother will turn into an evil queen if she discovers an imposter playing the part of her daughter.”
Ahhh, the toasts.
“Let me guess. I’m supposed to play the charming prince until then.”
“Nah, Winny, you were born to play the villain. And after what those fuckers did to her, charming is the last thing we need from you right now.”
4
Ash
Breathe.
Don’t panic.
I swallow down my unease, glancing over at Keaton. His features are cool and impassive, but he’s tense. Much like Winston, I can tell Keaton wears his lack of emotion like a suit of armor, but if I had to guess, deep down, he has feelings too. It was evident he was unsure about leaving Tinsley and escorting me instead. Her relief was palpable and what seemed to push Keaton forward. It’s heartwarming to feel their sibling connection.
“What now?” I ask, my voice slightly shaking.
“We avoid the piano room as that’s where Mother will have taken up residence with her friends.” He stops abruptly and guides me to the right. “It’d be best if we avoid my friends as well.”
My heart flutters with nerves. “And my family too.”
His piercing blue eyes meet mine and he studies me. “The Mannford triplets did something to you?”
“Just being themselves,” I mutter. “They surprised me. It won’t happen again.”
He seems pleased by my answer and guides me onto the dance floor. It reminds me of my high school prom a few months ago. Tate was a perfect gentleman. Life felt safe with him.
And you never liked it.
I ignore the little voice inside me that reminds me I prefer quite the opposite. My relationship with Winston proves that tenfold. Everything about him screams unsafe, and yet I’m enamored by his wickedness. Turned on by his seductive cruelty.
A man with dark hair and dark eyes stares openly at me. For a second, I falter, worried that Leo Morelli has shown up at this party. Fear claws up my throat and makes me dizzy. When I suck in a deep gulp of air, my terror dissipates as I realize the man isn’t a Morelli. With as much as the Constantines hate the Morellis, there’s no way Leo would show his face around here.
He told me not to tell Winston, but what if I did?
Win would protect me.
Right?
He could keep me safe, maybe, but the onslaught Leo would bring onto his family and mine would be more than even a Constantine could defend against. My skin crawls at the idea of every single person I know finding out about what Winston and I do in our private time.
I’ll figure something out.
Maybe I can make something up to keep Leo off my back until I find a way to tell Winston.
“Tell me about the triplets,” Keaton says, bringing his large palm to my waist and clasping my hand in his, making all thoughts of the Morellis fade as I think about my awful stepbrothers. “I want to know what we’re up against.”
He leads us into a dance that’s effortless on his part. I stumble at first as we find our rhythm but soon are moving in tune with the classical melody.
“They’re assholes,” I mutter, frowning at him. “Spoiled ones.”
His lips curl into a sinful grin. “So are the Constantines. Tell me what they love.”
“Their mother.” Mama’s boys through and through. “Lacrosse. And their cars.”
Blue eyes light up with mischief. “Thanks for the insight . . . sis. But now I have to go explain to my girlfriend why I’m dancing with a girl who’s not my sister. Based on the look on her face, she knows you’re not Tinsley. Good luck.”
Before I can process his abandoning me, another Constantine swoops in. Perry. His handsome grin calms me. Just like with Keaton, we easily fall into a rhythm that feels practiced.