Part I - ONE
ONE The rain streaked across the window, distorting the view of the landscape as our car sped past the front gate of the Simmons estate. The drive leading up to the mansion was a long, straight path lined with perfectly manicured hedges. It felt like we were driving through a tunnel of green. The only escape was the magnificent fountain at the end of the driveway, where the historic stone mansion stood. I held onto the book in my lap tightly, my fingers gripping the edges of the hardcover. The sound of the dust jacket crinkling against my dress caught my sister Jacinda's attention. She shot me one of her disapproving looks, the same one that had wilted our father earlier when he suggested she wear something more appropriate. Her black cocktail dress matched the sleek limo we were traveling in. It plunged low in the front, revealing her impressive cleavage. The flouncy skirt was short in the front, teasingly above her knees, and longer in the back. It showcased her legs and the dangerously high heels she wore. Her lips were stained a vivid red, a perfect contrast against her pale skin with its blue undertones. In theory, that same lip color would work for me. People often mistook us for twins, despite her being only fifteen months older. But I had made myself stand out by dyeing my hair an unnatural shade of deep green. The color had faded since then, but the hint of green was still visible. Though we looked similar on the outside, we couldn't be more different on the inside. Jacinda was friendly, quick-witted, and knew how to put people at ease. Meanwhile, I had a talent for making everyone uncomfortable with my awkward bluntness. But I had learned not to care about what others thought. While Jacinda was the darling of the social scene, destined to be the queen of Cape Hill, I preferred to be left alone, free from obligations and family duties. My only responsibility was carrying my mother's maiden name as my first name, a nod to my rich grandparents. "Samantha," Jacinda said, placing her hand on my wrist, her gaze fixed on the new Greek mythology book in my lap. "If it doesn't fit in your purse, don't take it inside. You can't show up to Aiden's party with a book to read." Aiden Simmons, a modern-day Gatsby, was hosting the party. He had been known for throwing wild parties during high school, and even though I was several years behind him, his reputation still lingered at our elite prep school. I looked at Jacinda as the car circled the fountain. When it came to a stop, she grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to me. "It fits," I replied softly. "Don't worry." Even though I didn't care about people's opinions, this was a big night for Jacinda. I wasn't about to ruin it for her. She was my best friend, and I was fiercely protective of her. As she stepped out of the car, a man holding an umbrella rushed to shelter her from the rain. I quickly shoved the book into my bag and followed her towards the mansion. Before I could reach the entrance, the man turned and saw me walking towards the house. He sprinted towards me in panic, as if I needed protection from the misty rain. It was ridiculous. No one really cared how I looked, least of all me. I was here for my sister's sake. The invitation had been for both Cox sisters, and declining would have been rude. Besides, I was curious about attending one of Aiden's parties. I had been to the Simmons's house many times over the years, but never for one of his infamous gatherings. When I stepped through the front door, the usher's voice boomed. "Miss Samantha Cox." I froze in place. Had he really announced me like this was a social ball from the 1800s? I half-expected a chaperone to appear and pair me up for a stilted dance with a suitor, but thankfully, no one came. There were a few people milling about in the foyer, but I didn't recognize any of them. Laughter and conversation echoed from the next room, filling the grand entrance. I gazed at the grand staircase that split halfway up, leading to the enormous painting of the Simmons family. Suppressing the urge to retreat up the stairs and escape the mingling, I joined Jacinda in the front sitting room. She snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to me without even looking at me. I took it and stood by her side. I was only twenty, but no one cared about legalities. We had all been drinking since high school. "Seems like half the company's kids are here," she muttered beneath her glass before taking a sip. I surveyed the crowd and came to the same conclusion. Simmons Banking and Holding Company had started as a simple bank, but had grown into an empire over the years. Now the eighth largest bank in the world, it had financial and wealth management divisions, as well as a strong presence in the global markets. At the helm of HBHC was Josiah Simmons, a man in his fifties who controlled the entire empire. I had only spoken to him once, but his presence was enough to make anyone feel like a nuisance. He exuded power and possessiveness, as if the air in the room belonged solely to him. Tonight, however, he was unlikely to be present. This was Aiden's party, celebrating his graduation from Harvard Business School. His father had better things to do than mingle with college kids on a rainy Saturday night. Conversations and laughter filled the air, bouncing off the dark paneled walls, high ceilings, and hardwood floor. I stayed by Jacinda's side like a shadow as she effortlessly engaged in small talk with people from our school and our father's workplace. Charles Cox, our father, was on the verge of making it onto the board of directors at HBHC, now that Mr. Steinway had retired. Twenty percent of Cape Hill's population worked for the company. I noticed the way Jacinda subtly searched the room with her gaze, looking for someone but not finding them. Aiden would make his appearance later, once the party shed its civilized facade and people started indulging in liquor and drugs. He was the man of the hour, and Jacinda couldn't wait for him to arrive. "Do you want me to go look for him?" I asked, hoping the answer would be no. "No," she sighed. Relief washed over me. Aiden Simmons was the only person who seemed to make me uncomfortable, despite my ability to make others feel uneasy. His piercing blue eyes were always hungry and relentless. Like his father, he commanded attention wherever he went. Our families had always been close. Our mothers had been best friends, and even after her passing, our parents remained connected to the Simmons family. There was an unspoken understanding between our families, perhaps to honor our late mother's wish. Josiah Simmons had decided long ago that it would be advantageous for Aiden and Jacinda to be together. They were a perfect match in every aspect - wealth, intelligence, and looks. Aiden essentially had first right of refusal over my sister. The situation was messed up, but Jacinda didn't seem to mind. In fact, she liked the idea of dating Aiden. It made me uneasy, like an itch that wouldn't go away. I wanted to know what it felt like to be desired by someone other than myself. I stayed by Jacinda's side for what felt like an eternity, wearing a constant smile to disguise my boredom. I didn't care about Rachel Sanderson's semester abroad plans or Eric Hineman's latest business venture. I endured the small talk until Jacinda finally gave me a slight nod, signaling that I was free to go. She handed me her red lipstick and I groaned playfully. She had been pestering me about it during the car ride, but I had refused. Now, I was about to lose the battle. I took the tube from her and she laughed. "It'll look amazing on you," she said. Reluctantly, I smeared on the red lipstick and handed it back to her. Then I slipped away through the kitchen, making my way up an empty back staircase in search of a quiet room where I could read until Jacinda texted me that it was time to leave. No one would miss the weird Cox sister with green-tinted hair and bright red lips. The first door I came across was slightly ajar, revealing a dimly lit room. Inside, a girl sat on the edge of a bed, her dress pulled down around her waist. Her pale breasts rose and fell with each shuddering breath, while a man knelt before her, his head buried between her spread thighs. She clutched his hair tightly as she gasped in pleasure. My cheeks burned as I hurried past the open door, a rope of desire tightening inside me. Was it envy, curiosity, or both? I wanted to know what it felt like to have someone else provide pleasure. I was so curious about sex, but tonight, in the mostly empty second floor of the Simmons estate, I wouldn't find out. I wandered down the plush-carpeted corridor, my footsteps silent. The walls were covered in intricate paneling, giving the whole house a masculine and cold atmosphere. I couldn't imagine growing up here. Josiah and his wife were workaholics, never around. There were whispers that Alice Simmons was in rehab, though officially she was at a spa for an "intensive cleanse." I tried several doors until I found one that led to a library or perhaps a home office. A warm-toned writing desk faced a marble fireplace. Instead of turning on the chandelier overhead, I flicked on the desk lamp, casting a soft amber glow on the shelves of books. The gold embossed titles on the spines reflected the light back at me. The bookcases filled every inch of the room, except for the window at the back, which was draped with bronze velvet curtains. The room smelled of books, leather, and the logs burned during winter. It also exuded power. In one slow blink, I fell in love with the library. There was a brown armchair with a matching ottoman, perfectly placed in front of the window. I was drawn to it like a magnet. Curling up in the chair, I tucked my legs beneath the scratchy crinoline of my white dress and pulled out my mythology book from my oversized purse. As the sun set, the room darkened, but time stood still as I immersed myself in the stories. My fascination with mythology had started long ago. I was drawn to the twisted tales of murder, betrayal, and jealous wrath. The gods displayed all the worst traits unapologetically. The book was so captivating that I didn't hear the door open or the footsteps approaching. It was only the eerie feeling of being watched that made me look up. A pair of hungry eyes met mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
TWO
My breath caught in my lungs, the sound choked off. Aiden Simmons stood before me, his thick, wavy brown hair swept back over his high-arched eyebrows and mesmerizing eyes. Tall and trim with broad shoulders, he exuded a certain presence that couldn't be described as casual. Perhaps oppressive, or invasive...or even sexy. I narrowed my eyes, dismissing the thought. No, he was only attractive if one found arrogant pricks appealing, and I had made it clear long ago that I didn't. Besides, he belonged to Jacinda. Over the years, he had only paid attention to me when he wanted to be mean. He probably didn't even remember my name. "Samantha Cox," he said, his tone dripping with sweet liquor and a sharp, bitter aftertaste. The jerk remembered me. I lowered the book in my lap. "My sister was looking for you." The corner of his mouth tugged upward, not quite a smile but an amused expression. "I bet she was." I blinked slowly, signaling that I wouldn't engage. Many women fawned over him, but I wasn't one of them. He took a step further into the room. The green tie around his neck matched his father's money, and the knot was slightly askew. Had he just loosened it or not bothered to finish getting dressed? Maybe he had been the man in the other room, making the woman moan. His black suit was the same shade as always, but his hair was perfectly styled. "Did you find Jacinda?" I asked. He sobered, a fleeting emotion ghosting through his eyes. "Yeah." The single word held a finality that indicated he didn't want to discuss it. Instead, his gaze trapped me, holding me in place with its gravity. This was what I remembered most about him - his intense stare that pierced through you. He never broke eye contact, never flinched. It was as if he could see right through you, uncovering all your secrets. Every hidden fear and vulnerability, he would find it. His scrutiny always forced me to look away first, fearing the power he held over me. I had to run before he exploited my exposed vulnerabilities. He was too comfortable holding my gaze, staring into the depths of me. Like me, he was straightforward in his thoughts. Honesty was a great trait, until it cut too deep. As sharp as his gaze was, I tried not to wither under its intensity. "Congrats on your MBA," I said flatly. He waved away my insincere pleasantry as if it were an annoying fly. "It must be quite a book to have you hiding up here." "I don't like parties," I replied. The words slipped out before I could stop them, but Aiden didn't seem offended. "Yeah, me either." What was he talking about? "Do you know how many times my sister snuck home after curfew from one of your parties? If you don't like them, why did you throw so many?" He pondered my question. "The bigger the party, the more freedom I had," he grinned. "Half the time, I wasn't even here." He revealed this as if sharing a secret, and an unwanted thrill coursed through me. If this wasn't widely known, why would he tell me? In Cape Hill, everything was about being elite and exclusive. Money was abundant, but power was harder to come by, and knowledge was its own form of currency. "What are you reading?" His question was simple yet demanding. With his father being the king of Cape Hill and Aiden a prince, I was merely a subject in his castle. So, I reluctantly held up the book for him to see. His eyes sharpened as they focused on the gold and white artwork on the cover. His voice carried a hint of skepticism. "Mythology?" I nodded, then dropped my gaze to the pages, pretending to be engrossed in the words. I couldn't read with him standing over me, but I could pretend. I ignored the scent of his cologne and wondered if he had just finished pleasuring the girl down the hall and was now on the prowl for his next conquest. "Is that for a summer class or something?" he asked. "No," I replied. His confusion was distracting as I struggled to concentrate on the page. "Then why are you reading it?" "Because I want to," I said, my tone more pointed than intended. The silence that followed hung heavy in the air. I glanced up to find Aiden's eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead. He didn't appreciate my sass. Or...did he? Something shifted in his eyes, a thickness that felt both hot and heavy. "And this is more riveting than my party?" He placed his hand over his heart, feigning offense. "I'm deeply offended." "I'm sure," I said dryly, refocusing on the printed page. I skimmed the words, absorbing none of them. It didn't matter. Seconds later, he yanked the book from my hands. I jumped up from the chair, chasing after it. "Hey!" Aiden held the book out of my reach, wearing an evil grin. "Oh, my God, are you five?" I exclaimed. "Give it back." But instead of returning the book, he clamped one of his large hands down on my shoulder, keeping me at arm's length as he skimmed through the passage I had been reading. My heart skipped a beat as his fingers tensed against my skin, the warmth of his palm seeping through the lace cap sleeve. I didn't like how his touch sent a buzz through my body, as if he had touched countless women who had melted under his fingertips. I refused to add my name to that list. "Is that why your hair looks like that?" he asked, keeping the book high and far away. He easily held me in place, no matter how much I struggled. "I get it. Chloe was always my favorite too." I choked on a breath and froze. "What?" "I assume you're a fan. With that green hair and those red lips, you sort of look like her." My heart pounded in my chest, anger bubbling up within me. Had he just called me ugly? "Actually," I snapped, "in most versions of the story, Chloe was beautiful." "I know that," he said, looking at me strangely. "Do...do you not think you're beautiful?" Wait, what? He didn't think I was ugly; he thought I was beautiful? The ground beneath me shifted, and I struggled to maintain my balance. Aiden had never been nice before, and his sudden sincerity unsettled me. But only for a moment. He must be playing some kind of game. What was his end goal? Did he want to see me flustered and falling all over him like the other girls? Would he pretend to seduce me, only to humiliate me in the end? Run to my sister and tell her how pathetic I was? "Oh, yeah?" I blinked innocently. "What exactly are you interested in?" He matched my nonchalant tone, threading his tie through his fingers. "Avoiding people and staying here in the library with you." It was a rare misstep for him, and I relished having the power to call him out on it. I swallowed, mustering up all my courage, and placed my hand on the center of his tie, my fingers grazing his dress shirt. The silk was cool and soft against my touch, contrasting with the warmth emanating from his strong chest. I wasn't experienced in the art of seduction, but I threw everything I had into it. "What should we do?" His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Oh, how thrilling it was to catch the prince off guard. It lasted only a moment before his large hand came down on mine, trapping my fingers and pressing my palm against his chest. "I have some ideas," he said. With my hand pressed against him, his heartbeat thumped steadily. If our roles were reversed, he would feel my heart thundering in my chest. His thumb moved, brushing gently over the back of my hand, coiling tension within me. I thought he would back down, but instead, he returned the challenge, raising the stakes. How far was he willing to take this? And how far was I willing to let it go? Each stroke of his thumb made me want to push further. Every breath we took, our eyes locked, gave me the courage to keep playing the game. "Was the girl down the hall not enough for you?" I asked. "Girl down the—" Confusion flickered across his face before transforming into a slow smile. "Vance was with some blonde when I walked by the guest bedroom. You thought that was me?" When I didn't respond, his voice dipped lower. "My brother probably left the door open because he wanted an audience. Did you watch them?" "Maybe," I admitted, dropping my book onto the ottoman. I graduated from pressing my hand to his chest to pressing my whole body against him. The crinoline beneath the skirt of my dress rustled softly between our thighs. Pleasure washed through his expression, simmering into something darker and hotter. His hand left mine momentarily, only to slip behind me and hold me against him. My white dress, demure in the front but backless, sent a shiver down my spine as his fingertips settled on my bare skin. I tilted my chin up, determined to appear strong despite the way his unwavering gaze threatened to unravel me completely. "I like this dress," he murmured, trailing his fingers up my back, tracing each ridge of my vertebrae as if counting stacks of money. "But would Chloe wear white? She wasn't a virgin, after all." Sex dripped from his voice, and it was impossible not to think about it when looking at him. His cheekbones were elegantly chiseled, and his mouth could twist into a devastating smirk. Aiden had been labeled a playboy, and he looked every bit the part. "Again, save it for Jacinda," I said, trying to sound annoyed but faltering, the words breathy and almost pleading. He took my reaction as a small victory, a flash of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. "But I'm not interested in your sister." His meaning was clear as he drew in a deep breath, his broad chest expanding and filling the space between us. The library suddenly felt cramped and suffocating. The shelves closed in, the curtains seemed to strangle, and there was no escape. An insidious voice whispered inside me, telling me I didn't want to escape anyway. A battle raged within me, my body and mind at odds. Physically, I desired him. Starved for attention from boys, there was no denying that Aiden Simmons was the most appealing one on the surface. But he was also the reason why finding someone to date had been so difficult for me in my sheltered life. The pool of eligible men in Cape Hill was small, and I was awkward. Aiden's offhanded comment had been the final blow. He was toying with me. There could be no other explanation. What was his end game? Did he want me flustered, falling at his feet like the other girls? Would he pretend to seduce me, only to abandon me at the last moment and humiliate me? Run to my sister and tell her how pathetic I was? "Oh, don't you worry," I challenged him. "I plan to." My boldness surprised even me, and a thrill shot down my legs. He couldn't accept my challenge. He would have to back down. Everyone knew which Cox sister he was expected to end up with, and it wasn't me. If he put his hand up my skirt, there would be consequences. But instead of disappointment, satisfaction washed over the handsome face looming above me. "Oh, don't worry. I plan to." My breath hitched, my confidence wavered. Was I in over my head? He was older, more experienced in this game. What if I couldn't handle it? It had seemed like a bluff at first, but now I wasn't so sure. I lifted my arms, placing my hands on his shoulders, drawing us closer to the edge of danger. He brushed my seaweed-colored hair back over my shoulder, making room for his warm breath to caress my skin. "You're doing it again," he murmured. "What?" I whispered. "Turning me to stone." My knees trembled, but I held my ground. "I don't have that ability. And even if I did, it wouldn't work. You'd have to actually see me for it to have any effect." "I see you," he insisted. "Come on," I said, irritation lacing my voice. "No, you don't. To you, Aiden, I'm just a faceless girl. A nobody." Fire blazed in his eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I fucking see you, Samantha." And with that, he crashed his lips onto mine, shattering everything I believed into a million pieces.
THREE
Chapter Three Aiden's kiss was not a luxurious sip of a three-hundred-dollar champagne; it was more like a shot of cheap whiskey that had to be downed quickly. It invaded all my senses, leaving a burning trail from my lips to my throat. It felt as if he was the prince of fire himself. His kiss was forceful and overwhelming. I couldn't help but cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain. The realization that this couldn't be real, that it couldn't be a pretense, cut deep and left me feeling hurt. The connection between us was too powerful, too desperate to be a lie. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that demanded I meet his level. His hand on my back pushed me closer to him, while his other hand tangled in my hair, gripping tightly. It felt forbidden, this kiss. I wondered if it was fueling the already intense flame between us. But I wasn't going to be outdone. I curled my fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and pulled, a manifestation of the discomfort he had caused me. He grunted softly, a sound of satisfaction. But it was short-lived, as he abruptly tore his lips away from mine and buried his face in my neck, sinking his teeth into my flesh. "F-ck," I gasped, more surprised than in pain. His teeth left a mark, replaced by the velvet touch of his tongue. A shiver ran through my body, unstoppable. "I see you," he murmured against my skin. "And now I've tasted you." Oh, God. On top of Josiah's threat, thoughts of my sister flashed through my mind. "No one can know." "Who the f-ck would we tell? You don't have any friends," he replied, his mouth finding its way back to my neck. "I have friends," I protested weakly. He straightened and gave me a hard look, then roughly turned me around so that my back was against the bookshelf. "Fictional friends don't count." I tried to protest, but he used the opportunity to advance on me. We shuffled a few steps until I was trapped, surrounded by the colored spines of books. His lips found the curve of my neck again, while his fingers traced a line down my bare back. As I peered at the titles in front of me, I slipped deeper into his seduction. In that moment, I wished for many things. I wished to know if my sister truly had feelings for him. I wished for the door to have a lock, and for him to use it. And most of all, I wanted to know when he would make good on his threat of exploring my desires under this white dress. I didn't have feelings for him, not in the way a normal girl would. He used people, and I planned to do the same to him. He could satisfy my curiosity about sex, and hopefully be satisfying in the process. His hungry mouth roamed over me, as if he needed to touch every inch of my vulnerable flesh. I reached out and grasped the bookshelf, my body reacting to his touch. He pushed my hair over my shoulder, exposing my back, and I tilted my head down. "This is my favorite part of a woman," he murmured, drawing a line across my shoulder blades with his tongue. Goosebumps rose on my skin. It made sense that this was his favorite spot, the place where a woman held her physical power. If someone were to walk in at that moment, they would find a strange scene. A girl with green hair in a cocktail dress, clutching a bookshelf as a man in a suit worshipped her back with his hands and mouth. It was an erotic moment, despite its strangeness. Pleasure radiated from his kisses, spreading warmth deep between my legs. I wasn't sure what was more shocking, the sensation of his hard length against me or the fact that he found kissing me arousing. Aiden's words dripped with lust. "I want to fuck you under this white dress." He kept one hand firmly on my hip while the other traveled up my body. Eventually, it settled around my throat, exerting a gentle pressure that conveyed his dominance. He growled in my ear. "I want to see your red lipstick smeared all over my dick." I exhaled sharply. His voice suddenly lowered, smooth and seductive. "Would you like that?" Would I? The image of me on my knees, undoing his belt and pants, flickered through my mind. It was undeniably hot, but what about Jacinda? What about the risk of someone walking in on us? He sensed my hesitation, not by my lack of answer, but by the tension in my body. "No," he said, his question rhetorical. The hand on my hip moved to the center of my skirt, pressing his fingers between my legs. Despite the layers of fabric, the sensation was pleasurable enough to make my heart race. When a moan escaped my lips, a satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. My legs shook as he worked the layers of my skirt up, his palm finding my inner thigh. What we were doing was wrong. But it would be worse if he stopped. I couldn't control my breathing as his hand inched upward, brushing against the damp fabric of my panties. His tone took on an evil quality. "What's this?" I didn't resist. I stood there, waiting for him to cross the line. His phone chimed in his pocket, but he ignored it. He was more interested in teasing and pushing me to the edge of desire. Finally, Aiden stroked his hand between my thighs, touching me through the thin satin. His touch was rough, confident, and greedy. It felt so much better than when I touched myself. Could he feel the rapid beat of my pulse in my neck? His hand still gripped me, but there was no aggression. It was a reminder of who was in control. His finger withdrew, only to rub lazy circles on my swollen clit. Everything felt overwhelming. But I craved his touch more than anything else. "I want this," he said. "Give it to me." He couldn't have sounded more like the spoiled rich brat he was if he tried. A shudder ran through my body. This was a demand from the prince, one I would have to obey. But I would do it willingly, even if I didn't fully understand what I was surrendering. My body? My virginity? Something more? It was poetic justice that the man who had caused the delay in my sexual journey would be the one to initiate it. And he owed me. "Alright," I whispered. My agreement felt like a release, a signed contract. Tension poured out of my muscles, making me pliable in his experienced hands. He pushed his fingers inside my underwear, and I tightened my grip on the bookshelf, trying to hold back a moan. His touch was different than my own. It was rougher, more confident, and it felt so much better. His phone chimed again. The mechanical noise felt out of place. The only sounds I wanted were my moans of pleasure and his hurried breaths. But that second text alert felt like a ticking bomb, a reminder that time was running out before someone discovered us. Aiden's tie brushed against my back as he moved his arm, working me over. Then he slid a finger inside me, and I wanted to curl up on my toes. "Oh, f-ck," I groaned, my head thudding onto the bookshelf. It wasn't that his intrusion felt particularly good, but the idea of it? That, I enjoyed very much. I liked his possession. His tongue traced the shell of my ear, whispering dark thoughts into my mind. I spread my legs wider, rocking against his finger. "You sure you're a virgin?" he teased, nipping at my earlobe. "Because you're f-cking my hand like you're not." "Shut up," I gasped. He laughed, tightening his hold on my neck as a warning. I didn't get to tell him what to do. His firm grip reminded me of who was in control. His finger withdrew, and he began rubbing my swollen clit. It was overwhelming, everything that was happening. He returned to kissing my neck, his lips working just under the hand that pressed against my pulse point. I jolted and writhed as his fingers continued their relentless assault. Aiden reduced all my thoughts to single words. Want. Need. Come. "This is mine now," he declared. I couldn't see his face, but I imagined his expression. It was the same one he would wear during a hostile takeover in the boardroom. Absolute. He claimed I was his. I tried to comprehend what he meant, but my mind was fracturing. He increased the intensity, and pleasure surged through me, threatening to consume me. "You wait for me. You understand?" he demanded. Wait for him? My confusion caused the orgasm building within me to hesitate. It wasn't so much an order as it was a plea. "I get to be first, Samantha. No one else touches you." I tried to step away, but his strong arms crushed me back against him. As I settled into my new prison, he rewarded me with a brutal kiss. "You'll wait," he demanded. "Say you'll do it." Nothing made sense in that moment, but I was under his spell and would agree to nearly anything. His voice was magnetic, drawing me in. "Yes," I breathed. Relief flickered in his eyes before vanishing. "Good." He released me and abruptly stepped back, causing me to grab onto the bookshelf to steady myself. I turned around to face him, but all I saw was his retreating back as he made his way towards the exit. "Aiden," I called out, using the same tone I would use to tell him to stop. But he didn't. He opened the door and disappeared into the hallway, without once looking back at me.
FOUR
One Year Later Chapter Four: One Year Later I had reached my twenty-first birthday, still a virgin. And it wasn't because I was loyal to Aiden, I reassured myself. It had been a year since I last saw him at his graduation party, and I tried my best not to think about him at all these days. Initially, it had been difficult. I spent an unhealthy amount of time fixating on our night in the library, wondering what had gone wrong. Had I done something to ruin it? Or was it all just one big mind game? Today was going to be tough without thinking about him. He, along with his father, was due to arrive at the house within the hour. I sat on the bathroom floor of Jacinda's house, staring at my purple toenail polish. Beside me, Jacinda hunched over the toilet, spitting out the remnants of stomach acid. I tore off a strip of toilet paper and handed it to her as she leaned back, staying silent as she wiped her mouth. Her bloodshot eyes showed the effects of vomiting multiple times. The strain had caused blood vessels to burst. "Feeling any better?" I asked. "A little. God, I hope it's finally out of my system." Her complexion was pale and sickly. "Damn," she groaned, collapsing against the wall and placing a hand on her forehead. "What am I going to do?" "People get sick," I offered. "Everyone understands that." She stared at me, her red-rimmed eyes wide with disbelief. "Josiah won't." She was right, so I didn't argue with her. Josiah Simmons was not human, so he couldn't relate to being sick. Our father had tried to cancel the luncheon, but his boss refused. There were important matters to discuss. Plus, my father assured him that Jacinda would have enough time to recover before they arrived. Josiah probably thought it was just a hangover and not actual food poisoning, as my father had explained. "Maybe a shower will help," I suggested, glancing at my phone screen. The meeting was unavoidable, and Jacinda needed to pull herself together if she wanted to look presentable. "Okay," she replied weakly. I helped her up from the floor and led her over to the shower, turning on the water. After she finished showering, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Without waiting for a response, our mother floated in. Her dark chocolate hair showed no signs of gray, thanks to her expensive treatments. She wore a red and navy striped dress with a pleated skirt, looking ready to rival Martha Stewart. She watched Jacinda stumble out of the shower, worry creasing her face. "Did anyone else get sick?" I shook my head. "Em was the only one who ordered the salmon." My mother scowled, forming a crease in her forehead. "Don't call her that today, okay?" Using my sister's nickname had never been an issue before. Normally, I would have been irritated at having to change my behavior to please someone else, but today I would go along with it. "Okay." The Simmons family held power over everything, and my parents would have less stress with the President of the United States visiting. They were supposed to be friends, but every moment with the Simmons family felt rigid and formal. A visit with Josiah was like a never-ending job interview. Every word and action was scrutinized and evaluated, and one wrong move could be disastrous. "I should call the restaurant and let them know," my mother said. "Sometimes these things don't get reported, and-" She froze as she looked at her daughter's bloodshot eyes. It was clear what thoughts were running through her mind. The first was concern for Jacinda's health, but the second thought was almost as important - she worried about Josiah's reaction. "I think I have some Visine," I whispered. My mother's attention shifted towards me, and as she blinked, it seemed like she was seeing me for the first time. Her critical gaze took in my deep emerald hair, scanned my tank top and shorts, and settled on my flip-flops. "Samantha, please get dressed. I'm getting nervous just looking at you." Jacinda lurched towards the toilet again. There wasn't much left for her to throw up, and my mother and I stood helplessly by as she dry-heaved. If I could have taken the sickness away from her, I would have done it in a heartbeat. It was painful to watch my sister suffer. And she had mentioned that the salmon wasn't even good. We had gone out with her friends last night to celebrate her graduation from Etonsons. It was a small gathering, and the larger garden party our parents were planning would happen over Memorial Day weekend when the weather was better. My mother locked eyes with me as Jacinda coughed and moaned. "Wear something nice. You might have to represent both of my daughters today." Reluctantly, I wore the pomegranate dress that Jacinda had planned to wear. With my green hair, it felt like Christmas colors in May. The V-neck party dress wasn't my usual style, but it fit me and satisfied my frazzled mother. After getting dressed and putting on the makeup my sister insisted I wear, I lingered upstairs for as long as I could before the Simmons men arrived. I waited until my father called for me to join them. It had been a miracle that I had managed to avoid Aiden since returning from college, but I couldn't avoid him any longer. I teetered down the staircase in Jacinda's slightly oversized heels, holding onto the banister for support. The polite conversation halted as I entered the room, and for a moment, it felt like time froze. My father was the first to break the silence, giving me a surprised smile - relieved to see me. It was safer to have more people around when dealing with the Simmons family. Josiah, on the other hand, took longer to recover and regain his composure. At fifty-two, Josiah's hair showed no signs of gray. It was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. I wondered if he simply willed it to be that way every morning. He had a long nose, high cheekbones, and a perfectly fit physique. And like his sons, Josiah was undeniably attractive. But there was something unsettling in his eyes. It was as if he had seen the entire world, every dark corner, and found it all to be deeply disappointing. His upper lip curled as he appraised me from top to bottom. Oh, how he despised my unnatural hair color. He wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. I didn't deserve an ounce of his attention. Aiden, on the other hand, was frozen, his focus solely on me. His wide eyes remained unblinking for an unnaturally long moment, and with the surprised expression on his face, he looked... different. Like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Other than that, he appeared the same as the last time I saw him. Irritatingly attractive, wearing a cobalt blue suit without a tie, exuding confidence. Had he not expected to see me? It made sense, I supposed. His younger brother Vance hadn't come, and when Josiah requested the lunch meeting, he had only asked Jacinda to attend. The anxiety of the situation likely hadn't helped Jacinda's nausea. Josiah cleared his throat, snapping his son out of his stupor. Then, he turned his piercing gaze towards my father. "Where is your other daughter?" My father stiffened. "She's still not feeling well." Josiah, only a few inches taller than my father, seemed to tower over everyone in the room. His displeasure filled the air, weighing down on us all. "Then she can join us after lunch." My mother's shoulders slumped, but she nodded and motioned towards the dining room, leading us to the table that our housekeeper Delphine had set with our finest china. Since my father sat at the head of the table, I ended up across from Aiden. Throughout the meal, I found myself staring at the intricate gold filigree on my plate, avoiding his intense gaze that seemed to pierce through me. The conversation was filled with forced pleasantries, just like it always was with Josiah. He had no interests or hobbies outside of being an asshole. This made it difficult to engage in any meaningful conversation. Over the years, he had changed so much. I barely remembered how he used to be, or if he had ever genuinely smiled. As soon as Delphine cleared the plates from the main course and disappeared into the kitchen, my father's boss interlaced his fingers and placed them on the table. The atmosphere in the room shifted. It was time to discuss business. "Aiden will be joining the board of directors," Josiah announced. My heart skipped a beat. He dropped the statement casually, but it landed like an anvil, threatening to pull us all down. It was no secret that my father wanted a seat on the board. Aiden being offered one eventually made sense, considering he was a Simmons. But he had only been working at the company for a year, and he was only twenty-five. Red patches crept up my father's neck, visible over the starched collar of his dress shirt. He must have been thinking about how he had been working at Simmons Banking and Holding long before Aiden was even born. Charles Cox was supposed to be next in line. My gaze shifted to Aiden, but he remained silent, expressionless. He had turned into a statue once again. "How wonderful," my mother forced out. "Yes," my father lied. Josiah nodded slightly. "As you know, this is a great honor." His tone was dismissive. "We have a tradition that accompanies it." A thousand tiny spiders crawled up my spine. The last time someone joined the board, I was only eight years old. Nobody explained the process to me, and even if they could, it was a secret reserved only for the board members. There was some initiation or ceremony, some strange rite of passage, followed by a massive celebration. Like those private societies at Ivy League schools, I found the whole secrecy pretentious. Men making a big deal out of themselves, pretending to be more important than they actually were. "Now that Jacinda has finished school," Josiah continued, "it makes sense for her to join Aiden. Once he takes his seat, we will announce their engagement at the celebration." My jaw dropped in disbelief. Was he really letting his father decide this? "Maybe we should bring Jacinda in here," I said sarcastically. "She might have some thoughts on the matter." When Josiah's icy gaze turned towards me, I couldn't help but shiver. I wanted to shrink into myself until I disappeared completely. "Then perhaps you should go and fetch her," he commanded. I hurried away from the table, grateful for the chance to leave. I kicked off my heels at the base of the stairs and raced up to Jacinda's room without bothering to knock. She sat on the edge of her unmade bed, arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. She looked like she was trying to hold herself together. "Em," I said breathlessly. "You need to come downstairs now." I darted into her walk-in closet and rummaged through the dresses hanging there. There was a peach floral dress that seemed a bit too summery, but it would have to do. I snatched it off the hanger and stormed back into her room, holding it out urgently. "Josiah just asked if Aiden could have your hand in marriage." I expected laughter, disbelief, shock. But instead, she cast her glassy, red-rimmed eyes down at her bedspread. Somehow, she already knew this was coming. An emptiness formed in my chest. Jacinda was my best friend, and we shared everything with each other. No, not everything. I hadn't told her about my night with Aiden in the library. Before they attempted a relationship, I had a good reason not to share it. And after it became clear that nothing would happen between Aiden and me, it seemed pointless to bring it up. I pushed aside my questions and the sting of betrayal. We could deal with it later. Right now, we needed to handle the situation. I loved my father with all my heart, but he wasn't always strong when he needed to be. He was easily swayed and gave in too quickly, especially when it was something he desired, like another cigar or glass of whiskey. What if Josiah offered him a seat on the board in exchange for Jacinda? It was exactly the kind of cunning move Josiah would make, and my father might be foolish enough to accept. Even if my sister would never agree to it, the mere negotiation could be disastrous. "Get dressed," I commanded. She complied, moving as if she were trying to delay the inevitable. Her hair was washed but not styled, and there wasn't a speck of makeup on her face when I led her downstairs. It was far from perfect, but it was better than her not being there at all. When we entered the room, Josiah rose from his seat. Was it out of courtesy or a power move? Aiden stood up as well, but his hesitation made it seem like an afterthought. Jacinda's voice sounded fragile as she spoke. "Mr. Simmons." Her gaze shifted towards his son. "Aiden." Josiah walked around the table towards her, extending his hand for a greeting. Earlier, he hadn't bothered to shake my hand when we met, making it clear how much he favored my sister. "It's nice to see you again, Jacinda." There was no warmth in his tone, but I doubted he was capable of it. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she vomited all over his extended hand.
FIVE
Chapter Five: A Twist of Fate The piercing sound of my mother's scream echoed through the room, sending chills down my spine. It was a dreadful noise, far worse than Jacinda's failed attempt to stifle her own disaster. The bright red dye from the sports drink she had consumed now flowed sickeningly, like garish fake blood, between her trembling fingers. My father leaped to his feet, causing the legs of his chair to screech against the hardwood floor. He snatched a cloth napkin from the table and hurried to assist his boss, Josiah. Josiah recoiled, his hand dripping with crimson bile, keeping it as far away from his body as possible. If he could have severed it right then and there, he might have. Amidst the flurry of activity that surrounded us, Aiden and I stood in stunned silence. Jacinda mumbled an apology and vanished from the scene. My father led Josiah away to the nearest bathroom to wash off the mess, while my mother hurried after Delphine to clean up the puddle of vomit on the floor. This left Aiden and me alone, our eyes locked across the vast table that rarely saw any use. "Hello, Samantha. Or is it Chloe now?" A faint smile played on Aiden's lips. "Did you do what I asked?" My breath caught in my chest as a wave of emotions crashed over me. How could he ask such a question after everything that had just transpired? And to be so casual about it, as if it were inconsequential. The flames of anger ignited within me. "It's Chloe." Aiden's victorious smile almost masked the relief he tried to hide beneath it. His gaze shifted from me to the door through which our fathers had disappeared. "Is she pregnant?" In the midst of the chaos, I struggled to process everything. "What?" I managed to utter. He didn't repeat himself, instead allowing the question to hang in the air, suffocating us with its weight. Jacinda couldn't possibly be pregnant. "She's not even dating anyone." Aiden raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, that's not a requirement for getting knocked up." I couldn't control my emotions any longer. "She's not," I insisted. But as soon as the words left my lips, doubt began to creep in. Despite the insanity of this wedding proposal, Jacinda hadn't confided in me about any of it. My mouth went dry. She had also abstained from drinking last night. One of her friends had ordered celebratory tequila shots, but Jacinda declined, claiming she still felt sick from a previous incident involving Patron during finals week. My thoughts must have been transparent because Aiden looked smug. "Fuck off, Aiden," I snarled. "If she was pregnant, she'd tell me." The kitchen door swung shut, signaling our loss of privacy. A cold draft accompanied Josiah Simmons back into the room, instantly lowering the temperature to an arctic chill. "She's pregnant?" His face mirrored the horror he had displayed when my sister had vomited on him. "No, she's not," I quickly responded. Aiden slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, seemingly amused by the whole situation. "Go ask her. I'll bet you a hundred bucks she is." I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me run away, but his father had a way of making his desires known without uttering a word. The set of his shoulders and the way he angled them towards me left me with no choice. I trudged back up the stairs, my fists clenched tightly. In that moment, I wished someone would throw up on Josiah, and if it weren't for the fact that he was family, I might have reveled in it. This time, Jacinda wasn't sitting on the bed. I could hear her soft crying coming from the bathroom. She stood bent over the sink, splashing water on her flushed face. When she caught sight of me in the mirror, she straightened up. "Is it possible to die of shame?" Her tear-filled eyes stared up at the ceiling, desperately trying to hold back the flood. "I want to. I'm so fucking embarrassed and miserable." I had no idea what to say. I wasn't skilled in sugarcoating things, and Jacinda wasn't naive. She knew that what had just happened would not be easily forgiven or forgotten by Josiah. When I lingered awkwardly in the doorway, worry etched itself onto her face. "What now?" "Are you pregnant?" My whisper seemed to hit her like a scream. Her eyes widened with shock, quickly followed by guilt staining them like red wine on a white tablecloth. Her gaze fell to the floor. "I'm... three weeks late." "Three?" A million questions swirled in my mind, but only one practical one escaped my lips in a rush. "Why haven't you taken a test?" She pushed away from the sink, pressing the back of her hand against her trembling lips. "Because," she whispered, tears cascading down her cheeks and splattering onto the travertine tile, "I know what it's going to say, and I don't want it to, okay?" My heart shattered a little, not just for her, but also selfishly for myself. She had suspected for weeks and hadn't confided in me. How many secrets was she keeping? "Whose is it?" "I haven't told him yet." "Em..." My voice trailed off. "He's married. Oh, God, I'm a terrible person." She shut her eyes tightly, squeezing out another stream of tears. "It's... Silas Taylor." "Your psychology professor?" She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell am I going to do?" "Well, you're not marrying Aiden Simmons, for starters." I placed my hand on her shoulder and pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight hug. "It's alright," I murmured. "Everything's going to be okay." I held her reassuringly as sobs wracked her body, not caring if her tears stained my dress. In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder if this unexpected pregnancy could somehow turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I couldn't fathom having Josiah as a father-in-law, and I certainly didn't want any further involvement with the Simmons family. It already felt like too much. By the time I returned to the dining room, everything appeared to be back to normal, as if the chaos of moments ago had never happened—except for the faint scent of disinfectant that lingered in the air. Everyone was seated, seemingly calm, but the tension hung heavy, like a thick paste. "How is she?" my mother asked, her voice shaky. Aiden glanced at me and smirked. "Pregnant. You owe me a hundred dollars." Josiah didn't react outwardly, maintaining his composure even as he slammed his fist onto the table with a force that made the silverware dance on the plates. Aiden's smirk faded, replaced by a hint of nervousness. It was the first time I had ever seen him look anything less than confident. "That is unacceptable." Josiah's eyes were like an intense Nor'easter, and I braced myself against the hurricane-force winds threatening to knock me down. My parents were stunned into silence, but my mother's shock seemed to jolt her back to life. She pushed her chair back and made to stand up. "Please excuse me." "Sit down," Josiah snarled, halting her in her tracks. She froze halfway out of her seat, but then straightened, her backbone stiffening. "No. I need to speak with my daughter." "In a minute," he ordered. "You'll hear what I have to say first." His attention shifted towards me, his gaze piercing. "Take your seat. This involves you now, Samantha." I shuddered at the sound of my name, but my feet moved on their own accord, following his command and bringing me back to my chair. My heart pounded in my chest as I sank into it, feeling as if it were rising into my throat. "I'm not sure if you're aware," Josiah began, adjusting the sleeves of his dress shirt beneath his suit coat, "that the Cox family has amassed an overwhelming amount of debt. It's quite possible that you'll be declaring bankruptcy by the end of the summer." A short laugh escaped my lips, disbelief mingling with the dread that had settled in my stomach. What was he talking about? I glanced around our opulent dining room, taking in the hand-carved table and the luxurious Dupioni silk curtains. We had just enjoyed a meal prepared by our personal chef and served by our live-in staff. We were swimming in money. Yet... When my gaze fell upon my parents, it was clear from their expressions that they had swallowed a bitter pill, choking on it as it lodged itself in their throats. "I don't understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Josiah leaned forward, placing his fingertips on the tabletop. "A decade ago," he announced, "your father made a series of disastrous investments. He chased the market, digging himself into a deeper hole. To stay afloat, they began depleting their savings. You're studying economics at Etonsons, correct?" Hyperawareness coursed through my veins, accompanied by a terrible sense of foreboding. "Yes, sir." "Then you must know that your tuition, along with your sister's, exceeds your father's annual salary. To keep you enrolled, he had to sell off his stock options." My heart raced as the financial walls closed in around me, making it difficult to swallow. "But the house—" "It was mortgaged three years ago and is now in default. I'm sure you're aware of which bank holds the lien." A sickening satisfaction laced Josiah's voice as he reveled in delivering this news. "The truth is, Charles and Delancey have been living beyond their means for years. But that ends today." I expected my parents to speak up, to either defend themselves or deny the accusations. But they remained silent, their shame rendering them unable to utter a word. The suffocating silence grew more unbearable with each passing moment. All our money... gone? Josiah spread his hands, placing his fingertips back on the table. "The only valuable asset you currently possess is your name and reputation." His words dripped with a menacing threat. We all knew he could strip us of those just as easily as he could take our house. A single word from him, and we would be shunned. "I'm going to make an offer," he continued. "Only a fool would refuse it." I forced myself to match his ruthless demeanor, though my voice came out hollow. "I... have a counteroffer." His shoulders snapped back, displaying his displeasure as if I had accused him of wearing a fake Cartier watch. But deep down, I sensed he was merely posturing. He probably relished this sort of negotiation. "My offer was more than generous." Ignoring his protest, I pressed on. "If I agree to marry Aiden, we keep the house, my father keeps his job and accepts the financial planner." Josiah's irritation flared into anger. "That's the exact offer I just proposed." A tremor coursed through my legs, hidden beneath the table. Outwardly, I tried to match his merciless personality. I said it before my courage wavered. "And also, ten million dollars."
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