Billionaire's Captive Complete Trilogy - Stasia Black Page 0,3

do. Even when she’s Rachel The Tease. “I don’t have time to date.”

“Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands. “I’m just saying. You’ll have friends there. I know you don’t realize it, but you have people who care about you. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

I nod and plaster on a smile. I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. But she doesn’t know what it was like growing up the way I did. My life has never been normal and I accepted it a long time ago.

“That reminds me,” Rachel goes to the mini fridge and starts rummaging. “Your father sent something for your costume.” She wrinkles her nose and pulls out a crown of glossy dark green leaves. “What is this?”

“A laurel wreath.” I smile. “Dad usually wears it. Laurel leaves for Dr. Laurel—get it?”

“No, I would never have gotten that,” she deadpans.

I laugh at her sarcasm. “I guess he wants me to wear it for him. And it’s a quarter to four which means I have three hours to get ready.” I scrub at my aching eyes. “This is going to take a miracle.”

“Fortunately, you have me. Today, I’m your fairy godmother. And we have no time to lose.” She claps her hands. “You shower. I’ll make you tea. Don’t bother drying your hair. The stylist will be here in twenty minutes. When he’s done, I’ll do your makeup.”

“Sounds good.” I yawn.

“Oh don’t do that, you’ll make me tired, too. Now, you told me you already got a costume to wear?”

“Yes! I had a dress custom made.” I walk to my small closet at the back of my office and open the cabinet with a flourish.

Rachel’s mouth drops open. “What. The. Hell. Is. That?”

Two

Beast

I sip from my champagne glass and narrow my eyes at the ballroom before me.

The bubbles explode on my tongue and I want to spit the liquid out on the floor at the glittering high heels of a passing socialite. She glides by, joining a group of others just like her: beautiful people dressed in expensive finery.

I used to think these people were merely vapid and useless. Now I know the truth. No one who can afford to be in this fucking room is blameless. The rich and powerful became that way by stepping on the necks of the less fortunate.

The place is huge—a cavernous ballroom laid out under several story high columns. The room is full with a vast and glimmering sea of people, each new face more beautiful and powerful than the last.

Once, I bought into it. Less than a decade ago, I came to a function a lot like this, so full of a young man’s idealism. My whole life ahead of me.

All those dreams are bitter ash in my mouth now.

Who I was doesn’t matter anymore.

Only who I am now.

Tonight, I begin. I will re-balance the scales of justice. I guard the entrance to the ball, still as a gargoyle. No one looks my way as I study them through the eye holes in my mask.

Everyone’s wearing masks tonight. The rich and famous pretend to be gods, their hypocrisy and arrogance never more fully on display. And I’ll beat them at their own game. I won’t lie or cheat or try to manipulate.

I’ll be exactly what I am.

The monster they made me.

A trio of women dressed as Muses openly stare at me. I glare in their direction; they turn away, their laughter giddy as champagne bubbles. An insipid chorus, the perfect soundtrack for this awful event.

Then I see her. Dr. Laurel’s brilliant daughter.

She’s more beautiful than ever. Her skin is so radiant and flushed with youth. Even from across the room, her eyes sparkle. She’s full of life and mine have never been more of a mockery than in this moment.

My hands ball into fists even as I wonder:

Did she like my rose?

Three

Daphne

Every year, the rich and famous of New Olympus gather at the Parthenon for the Autumn Gala. Every year—but one—I’ve dressed up like a princess and floated up the red carpet on my father’s arm, only to spend the night lurking next to the wall. The perpetual wallflower.

The spacious ballroom is full with a vast and glimmering sea of people, each new face more beautiful and powerful than the last.

My stomach roils. Should’ve eaten more. I lean against a gigantic column bathed in green light, doing my best impersonation of a wallflower. Just part of the scenery.

“Quite a sight, aren’t they?” a smooth voice murmurs in my