Prologue
SIX YEARS AGO: THE KINGS’ SUMMER SOIRÉE. DAYS BEFORE LAURENE’S ENGAGEMENT PARTY
A defiant crimsonstain spread slowly across the champagne silk.
Shit.
This dress cost four thousand dollars, and in less than twenty minutes, it’d been ruined. I let out a breath and counted down from five. Omar Whitmore—too loud, too smug, too drunk—had stumbled right into me with a glass of wine.
I smiled through it. Of course I did. I always smiled through the bullshit.
I smiled and excused myself without waiting for my mother’s reaction or Miles’s apology. I already knew how that conversation would go with him.
Serena, don’t make a scene. Serena, he didn’t mean it. Serena, calm down.
Something was wrong with Omar.
The whole town had seen this past month—maybe even longer than that. I thought his weirdness began after his father died. Rumor had it Woody had rewritten his will before he died, and Omar shouldn’t actually be in charge.
But Miles wouldn’t talk to me about it.
Tonight was meant to be a great night.
My fingers worked the zipper at my back.
If I focused on the details of the party, it was easier to not be embarrassed. Half the party watched as Miles’s father spilled wine on me; Miles was shocked and didn’t help.
I peeled off my dress and lifted my heels. I headed to my closet in my bra and panties to find another dress, enjoying the cool air.
Good thing my room was on the far left of the mansion; all I heard was distant music and mumbling. Laurene’s upcoming wedding was probably the gossip topic. The women loved to talk about my brother. Another multimillion-dollar deal! Mama’s already calling him the future of King Enterprises, conveniently ignoring who actually keeps the company afloat.
Give me a fucking break.
I placed my hand on my hip, pushing through the rack for a dress acceptable for tonight. The door creaked open behind me.
“You should knock,” I said calmly without turning around.
“When did I start doing that?” Miles’s voice was low, then the door closed.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I came to make sure you were okay.”
I grunted without turning around and picked up a dress, then changed my mind.
“You really gonna act like that?” Miles said.
“How should I act instead?” I finally turned my head. Miles was closer than I expected—too close, really. His shirt was undone at the top, exposing just enough collarbone and hint of chest to make my skin tighten. That lazy, crooked smile teased the corner of his mouth like he knew exactly what effect he had on me.
“He didn’t mean it,” Miles added. “My father. He was trying to?—”
“He’s been like this for months now, Miles. Your father’s been making scenes at events, which we could ignore, but nottoday.The Ashbournes are here, and Laurene’s engagement means a lot to my parents.”
His jaw twitched, but he didn’t deny it.
“I handled it,” he said. “Back then. Tonight too.”
“No.” I stepped closer, my thigh brushing against him. “You apologized before. That’s not the same thing as handling it. You need todosomething about him, Miles. What’s wrong with him? What aren’t you telling me?”
