by K. Webster
A hopeful smile graces Tinsley’s lips.
“That could work,” I offer, wanting to help give this poor socialite the night off since it’s clearly weighing heavily on her. “At a quarter till, I could meet you back here.”
Perry’s brows furrow as he considers our plan. “It’ll just make people talk. The two of you look nothing alike.”
“The only one we have to convince is Mother,” Keaton argues. “Who cares about the rest? They talk anyway. Hell, it’s all they ever do. Let them talk and give Tins a break.”
Perry’s gaze flits over his little sister before he lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine, but if you guys fuck this up, Mother is going to be livid.”
I cringe as I worry about displeasing their mother.
“We won’t fuck it up,” I assure Perry. “I promise.”
“Jac, Gus,” Perry barks out. “Work your magic and let’s hope like hell it works, because if not, we’re all in deep shit.”
3
Winston
I hate people.
I hate parties.
I especially hate being paraded around as man of the hour.
“It’s your birthday,” Nate says, clasping my shoulder and squeezing. “Lighten up. You’re scaring all the hot chicks away with that mean mug of yours.”
Lifting a brow, I smirk at my friend. “You do realize the ‘hot chicks’ I scared away with my glaring are Keaton’s girlfriend and her posse.”
Nate shrugs. “Still hot.”
“And underage.”
At this, he laughs. “If Ash were over there with them, just as young, your old ass would be over there trying to drag her into the nearest closet, laws be damned.”
“Hmph.”
“She’s just a phase, right?”
My brow arches at his question. “Of course she is. They’re all a phase.”
That’s all Ash is. That’s all she can be.
“Right.”
“You, of all people, should know this. You were there when . . .” I trail off, pinning him with a hard glare. Meredith destroyed me when I was a fucking teenager. Nate was there to remind me of who I am and who I’m meant to be. He knows I can’t afford to put myself in that position ever again.
“Just looking out for you, man. I’ve always got your back.” He cocks his head, frowning. “Where is Ash anyway?”
He scans the crowd of people milling around, chatting and laughing as they consume their champagne. She’s not here. Neither are the Mannfords as far as I can tell. I know this because I’ve been hunting her down for the past hour and in that search, I haven’t found them either. Too many fucking people.
“She’ll be here,” I mutter. “Hell, she may already be here.”
The thought unnerves me. If those fuckers have her phone, she can’t get into contact with me. I’m going to find them and wring their necks. When I see Perry’s grinning face across the room, I leave Nate to drool over the teenagers while I stalk my brother out. Along the way, every damn person wishes me a happy birthday. The party has barely started, and I’m already over it.
“Perry,” I call out when I’m close. “A word?”
He excuses himself and saunters my way. His expression is unreadable, which is surprising. Whatever he’s attempting to hide from me, I’ll find out what it is. I gesture for him to follow me outdoors away from the suffocating crowd. Once outside, we skirt some people laughing in a group to stand near a shadowed area in the yard.
“What’s going on?” I demand, piercing him with a firm glare.
His lips purse together as he darts his gaze around us. “I took care of it.”
“It?”
He scrubs his palm over his face, a distressed glint in his eyes. “I don’t know what happened.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Ash,” he hisses.
“What about Ash?” My voice is low and deadly. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Not like I’m spooked, but more along the lines of a dog that’s about to attack.
“She . . .” His features pinch in anguish. “They hurt her.”
The blood running through my veins turns icy in an instant, hardening me to my very marrow. The pure cold whipping through me is hatred.
For them.
He doesn’t have to tell me who because I already know.
The same motherfuckers who stole her phone.
“Hurt her how?” I demand through clenched teeth.
“I’m not sure. She’s being tightlipped about it.”
“Where is she?”
“I said I took care of it—hey, Winny, stop!”
I leave my brother as I storm back into the house, gaining momentum like an avalanche with every angry step along the way. I’ve just made it inside when Perry grabs my arm, stopping me.
“Wait,” he bites out, his grip tightening when I try to shake him off. “What are you going to do?”
“It was her brothers, right?”
“Step,” Perry bites out. “But yeah. She said it was them.”
“Where is she?”
“She’ll be here soon.”
Our conversation is cut short when three psychopaths in tuxedos approach. The ringleader—Scout—flashes me an evil grin. One that drips with triumph and power. Little shit doesn’t know what he’s started.
A fucking war he won’t win.
“Constantine,” Scout sneers. “Happy birthday.”
“Children,” I greet, making sure to look down my nose at them. “Where’s your mommy?”
Scout’s jaw clenches, and he narrows his gaze. “Better question is, where’s Winston’s Dirty Whore?”
Perry curses, stepping forward like he might deck this kid at Mother’s ball. That’s not happening on my watch. These shitheads would love for a Constantine to lose control. I shoot Perry a dark look that has him relaxing, letting me take the lead. Once I’m sure he’s not about to knock Scout’s head off, I step closer to the guy, loving that I outmatch him on height, weight, wits, and fucking money. I don’t even have to remind him he’s less than me. He knows it. He can feel it in the power of my gaze.
“Show him the picture, Sully,” he grits out, not moving back.
Sully pulls out a phone, handing it to his brother. My nerves buzz, because I know he’s about to show me something that’s going to piss me off. Her phone is crammed with filthy shit we’ve done. This guy is going to throw it in my face, probably try to blackmail me. I know his type.
Hyenas.
Like Keaton said, we’re lions, and I will pick this fucker’s bones clean. In the figurative sense, though I wouldn’t mind seeing him bloodied up by my fist. But that’s not what hurts for little spoiled psychopaths. You don’t beat the shit out of them. No, you shred their lives and the few things they care about. I already know I’m not going to be satisfied until I’ve ripped away everything that matters to him.
“I forgot to mention,” Scout snarls, “my sweet sister won’t be making it to your birthday ball, Constantine. She’s had quite a bit of a dress fiasco.”
I can intimidate most men with just a simple glare, but his words make my chest squeeze painfully. “Your taunting is getting boring, little boy. What do you want?”
“To warn you.” His lips twist into a cruel smile that probably scares the shit out of his peers, but it only serves to infuriate me.
I arch a brow at him. “I’m a Constantine. We don’t take well to threats.”
“Too fucking bad,” he growls, thrusting the phone in my face. “This is only a taste of what I’m capable of.” I realize it’s not her phone, but it’s a picture of her on it.
Ash.
My beautiful, wrecked, messy girl.
But not ruined by my hand.
No, this shit stain in front of me is responsible. He’s desperate for my wrath—has a fucking hard-on for it. As much as I want to break the bones in his face with the phone, I school my explosive rage, containing it with a disinterested shrug.
�
�You can assault a woman half your size,” I clip out, my eyes burning holes into him. “I see very clearly what you’re capable of.”
A waiter stops to offer champagne. I grab two glasses, handing one to Perry. My brother is watching me like a hawk, barely containing his own anger, but taking a page from my book and keeping it in check.
The psycho triplet twats are seconds from exploding.
I guess they’re used to getting their way.
But I’m not a little girl or their motherfucking mommy.
I’m a goddamn Constantine.
And I always get my way.
Right now, I want to see them lose their shit. They think they’ve won, but they’ve only caught me off guard. As soon as I can, I’m going to upend everything in their world. Hell, I’ll destroy Manda while I’m at it if I have to just to get through their thick skulls that fucking with Constantine property is a big, big no-no.
“We know all the sick shit you and Ash do together,” Scout snarls, his face turning crimson as he poorly attempts to rile me up. “We know you pay her for it too.”
I smirk at him and then quickly down my champagne glass before patting his chest. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Mannford. Some filthy sex videos aren’t going to bring down the king of this city. Try again, kid.”
Sidestepping the brat, I make my way into the throng of people, my mind racing. Sure, I might not show Scout that he’s ruffled me, but he has. Beneath the boiling of my blood is an innate urge to find Ash.
She’ll be here soon.
I took care of it.
Through gritted teeth, I hiss at my brother. “Start talking and fast.”
“She’s here,” Perry assures me. “Jac and Gus are getting her ready.”
As though I have a sixth sense when it comes to Ash, my eyes weave through the crowd, seeking her out. I find Keaton walking in with Tinsley, but Ash isn’t with them.
My sister, always the belle of every ball, prances forward in a blue dress that sparkles and moves like water as though she’s wading through cerulean waves.
It’s not Tinsley.
The fierceness emanating from the blonde is not my baby sister. It’s a familiar one I know intimately. Lifted chin. Steady feet. Not an ounce of hesitation as she parades in on my little brother’s arm pretending to be a Constantine.
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.
“You might fool the outsiders, but anyone who knows Tinsley knows you’re not the same. The hair and dress might play the part,” Perry says, lifting a hand to tug on a blonde strand, “but you’re as different as night and day.”
“Different how?”
Perry studies me for a beat. “Tinsley is mostly good.”
“I’m good,” I argue to which he smirks.
“Sure you are.” He winks, and I flush as images of last night with Winston that were definitely far from good flood my mind. “She’s probably the nicest Constantine.”
“I don’t know,” I argue. “You’re my favorite so far.”
He laughs. “I thought Winston was your favorite.”
“Winston is . . . something. Favorite is a stretch.”
His features pinch. “I know what the triplets did to you.”
“They told you?” I meet his gaze, a lump in my throat.
“I saw a picture.” A dark scowl transforms his face. “If Winny wasn’t there, I’d have knocked that fucker’s head off his shoulders.”
“Picture?” I croak out. “He showed you a picture?”
“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “They won’t get away with this.”
Relief floods through me. I don’t want them to get away with what they did. Even if it means I’ll owe Winston and his family, I don’t care. I want Scout and his brothers to be punished.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Where’s Winston?”
“Rubbing elbows.” He chuckles. “His favorite thing to do.”
The idea of Winston schmoozing is definitely laughable. I can imagine him caught in conversation with his mother’s friends, glaring at them. It makes me miss him. I’ve been in such a rush to get over here and ready that I didn’t have much time to think about anything else.
“May I have this dance,” a deep voice croons.
Just not the voice.
Disappointment trickles through me as I force a smile for Winston’s friend, Nate. He’s not staring at me like I’m a gold-digging whore, so I count it as a win in my book.
Perry gives me a nod of his head, indicating I’ll be fine with Nate, and then passes me off to him. Nate grins at me as he settles his hand on my waist.
“A blonde now, huh?” His brow arches. “A new kinky game you and the boss man play?”
“Something like that,” I lie, flashing him a fake smile. “Where’s Winston?”
“Making an appearance with his mother.” His eyes drop to my chest, lingering on my cleavage. “You do know his allegiance is first and foremost to his family, right? Your silly ideations of becoming his wife are nothing but childish fantasies. Winston will never settle, much less with a maid.”