Morellis, of course. They killed him. They’ve had beef for so long, that Brian Morelli decided it was time to take out the competition.” She yanks on my arm. “Don’t you think?”
I glance at her. “That gossip is stale, my dear.”
“Not at all.” She leans closer. “Or maybe it was Caroline. I mean, she—”
I whirl on her and grab her arms, gripping her hard. “Shh.”
“What?” Her voice already trembles. She’s used to being hit, used, and thrown aside. Not by me. I don’t care enough to get angered by anything she says or does. But I can already see the tremor in her chin, the way she tries to cringe away from me.
“Take care, my dear. The walls have ears, and speaking ill of a Constantine in their home is never a good idea.” I release her and turn to keep Lily in my sights.
She’s dancing with Graves, her body swaying to a deep beat that pulses through the ballroom. The crowd is massive, thicker in here, but still not oppressive. Some famous DJ spins tracks as coke, booze, and any number of vices float through the room on trays.
“Sorry,” Carissa whispers.
“I’m only trying to protect you.” I let her take my arm again.
She bounces back almost immediately, her smile returning. “Want to do some?” She’s looking at a mirror tray of coke in the center of some partiers.
“Help yourself.” I stare down at her. “And behave.”
“Y-yes.” She nods, then hurries away, fear in her steps.
I tend to have that effect. Something in the way I look or the tone of my voice, or perhaps the fact that my reputation for dark deals and murder often precede me. But no one becomes an underworld king from good behavior.
Returning my attention to my newest target, I revel in her. I could take her life, snuff it out like a match between my fingers. But I won’t. I’ll take everything else.
She stops shaking her ass and tries to pull Graves to the side of the gilded ballroom, but he refuses and keeps dancing. Giving up, she hurries to the side door, then looks over her shoulder, scanning the impossible crowd. Looking for me. And then she glances up at the décor, the chandelier, the paintings that are worth more than anything she’ll ever touch.
Even behind the mask, Lily’s eyes are full of too much wonder to ever fit in with these people. She’s been to this estate before. As a maid. But she’s never been here like this, seen the true excess of the wealthy. I take pleasure in her response to it, to the flashy and soft, the feathery and the fake. Soon enough she’ll feel the granite underneath, the unyielding strength of the families who rule Bishop’s Landing. But for now, she’s enchanted.
And I want her to stay that way right up until I take every last bit of her, wrecking her body the way she’s wrecked my mind over the past month. And the best part? The best part is, she’ll never even know who I am.
3
Lily
“Why did you leave school?” That voice. Every nerve ending in my body snaps to attention.
I whirl and find him behind me, his steps quiet for such a large man. “What?”
He leans against the arbor that’s covered with wisteria, the purple blooms making a fluffy roof over our heads. People pass by, some giggling, others crying, and still others silently disappearing into the darkness of the estate to do desperate deeds.
“I asked you a question, princess.”
“How do you even know about that?” I back up, putting distance between us, but not space. Not with the way his fathomless eyes eat me up. His black tux and matching mask hide him from me, but I can still feel him like a weight.
“I know everything about you.”
“Not possible.”
“You left school last year. Then you began your ruse to become a sugar baby. Why?”
I cross my arms. He can’t interrogate me. My private life is none of his damn business. “We had an agreement. I needed favors. You gave them, and I paid. That’s it.”
“One more payment, Lily.” His words are a soft threat.
I’m scared, but not as scared as I should be. “You know how badly I needed to fit in tonight.”
“Did you really think Graves would propose?” He gives a cruel laugh.
“Of course not,” I snap.
“Oh?” His dark brows rise beneath his mask.
“I just needed him to see me as … as—”
“An equal?” He tsks.
I throw up my hands. “He has to believe I