Hoping against hope that this party would feel like a real celebration, I stayed out on the dance floor. I'm not gonna lie to you, girl—empty glasses were piling up everywhere. Sarah held the record; the more she drank and the crazier the night got, the closer she crept to Evangelina.
The queen was totally playing into it, tossing her little crumbs of attention—pinching her cheeks or running her flawless hand down her neck. Even from where I was standing, I could recognize that exact smile we've all worn at some point when receiving Evangelina's casual, effortless affection.
Lucius was watching us, now from a chair. Even sitting down, he loomed over everyone, anchoring the room with that dominant presence of his that always reels me in. Every now and then, his eyes would lock onto mine before drifting upward. I didn't budge from my spot; I just kept dancing. When I dance, I'm in my own world—a world where I am the beginning and the end. Not even Killian, who moves like no other man alive, can match the absolute freedom I feel when the music takes over.
Bruce tried, and he's a good dancer, but he stood zero chance next to the youngest Longfield. Ever since their fight, there's been a mutual respect between them, sure, but a heavy rivalry too. The detective barely drank; he's a control freak, and he knew he had that control over his cousin. Maybe that's why he crossed over to me—he needed to expand his territory.
He leaned in, whispering boldly in my ear, "We made a great couple, even if it was all just a simulation. Do you ever think about me?"
I kept dancing and didn't answer. I wasn't mad at him; I was just terrified to open my mouth. And it wasn't because he's gorgeous and I was afraid of falling into the temptation of flirting back. It's more because I might be young, yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to speak when anything I say can—and will—be used against me.
Here's my logic, girl: if I told him I didn't think about him, he'd see right through the lie. He knows. He knows what we did was far too hot to forget in the blink of an eye. But if I told him, "Of course I think about you," then, for the sake of honesty, I'd be feeding into this rivalry with Killian, which I had absolutely no intention of doing. In fact… speaking of the devil, he arrived right on cue to mark his territory.
Killian danced his way over, wrapping his hands around my waist. My body instinctively responded to his touch as he pulled me in for a kiss. Then he spun me to the rhythm of the music, holding me tight from behind, and that's when… I saw it.
Bruce stopped moving. He stood there, defiant, pinning me with his gaze. It made me feel incredibly desired, but deeply uncomfortable at the same time. I glanced at Evangelina, and she instantly read the room—she knew I needed backup to de-escalate the tension between these two alphas. She stepped in just in time, right as Killian was telling the detective, "Hey. Look somewhere else now. Give us some space."
But Bruce didn't budge. Evangelina whispered something in his ear with a laugh, catching his attention. She led him away by the hand toward Sarah, who seemed to be waiting anxiously, clutching a glass of Malbec.
Lucius, like an emperor shackled by his own responsibilities, signaled to us. I don't know if the gesture was meant for Killian, for me, or for both of us, but Killian took my hand and we walked over to see what he wanted. For a brief moment, the three of us stepped away from the crowd.
Lucius showed us an image his head of security had just sent him—a security camera freeze-frame from a nearby street. It showed a massive figure sprinting toward the woods with a slight limp. Before I could even ask, he explained, "Big George just brutalized the guards at the Open Door asylum for the criminally insane and escaped. It's far from here, but we need to be careful. I've reviewed his profile, and it looks like he had a bizarre fixation on Annia. Not romantic—more like a religious devotion. He blames us for her death. We've beaten him once, but look at his record: Special Forces, two wars, combat distinctions, his own private security firm… all before he turned thirty-five. Then he took a bullet, and once he recovered, he went to work for those psychopaths, the Vanderecks. The news is everywhere. Our father has already ordered a team to hunt him down and secure the mansion that now belongs to the Bances. We think he'll try to head there, and he knows that place better than anyone. Looks like Evangelina just found out."
I turned around and saw her walking toward us, holding up a screenshot from a news channel.
"We know," I told her.
Instead of looking panicked, she just looked worried for me. "Out of all of us, you'll be the absolute last on his revenge list, so don't even sweat it. We'll catch him soon."
Of course, I lied through my teeth and told them I wasn't freaked out. In reality, my heart rate spiked, and I snapped at them, "Can we please stop talking about psychopaths at my party?! Yes… my party. The one I threw specifically to celebrate going from a broke, never-been-kissed girl with a mountain of debt to falling in love with the two of you and making a fortune off a perfume—which, by the way, Killian, smells amazing on you. I love you guys, and not even some escaped lunatic giant is going to ruin my night. We are going to dance, and you two better kiss me—a lot—because otherwise I am never speaking to you again!"
I grabbed them both by the hand, and they followed me—Killian laughing, and Lucius practically dragged along. They both danced around me, our bodies brushing against one another, and I completely lost myself in the fantasy of having them both, just like before.
Evangelina joined us, bringing Bruce along, and Sarah trailed after her as if pulled by an irresistible gravitational force. But all of them—rich, beautiful, and powerful—were orbiting around me.
It lasted for two songs. The most carefree, blissfully perfect six minutes of my life. Wrapped in love, I felt Killian's hands on my waist, Lucius's hands gripping my neck whenever we ended up face-to-face, Evangelina's hands on my shoulders keeping me close, and Bruce's hands sliding furtively across my back. And I just danced. But, of course, it didn't take long for Killian to notice the detective trying to get my attention. I watched as he shoved him back, mouthing something I couldn't quite make out over the music.
Bruce looked completely unfazed, holding his ground with a challenging stare. I flashed him a look, warning him not to even think about starting a fight, but since they were completely ignoring me, I marched right up to them.
"Can you two stop baring your teeth at each other?" I demanded. "There's no pack to dominate here—we're just friends… can you please just do this for me?"
They both gave me a mock bow and shook hands with fake, plastered-on smiles, clearly playing a game of who could crush whose bones first. Lucius took the opportunity to grab my arm and pull me away from the drama.
"Leave the children alone and come with me," he said. "I have to leave in an hour, but there's something I need to show you. I want your opinion."
Curious, I followed him inside the house. He pulled out his phone.
"Moetia—your favorite writer, M.H. Lamar—is writing a book about you. Did you know that? Right. Well, she sent me an excerpt, and I highlighted a scene where she describes the two of us about to sleep together. I want to read it to you."
With a boldness that surprised even myself, I countered, "Only if you kiss me first. Look me in the eyes, tell me you're going to love me forever, and just kiss me already. After that, you can read me War and Peace or The Arabian Nights in their original languages for all I care."
He smirked, but no, he didn't kiss me. He just said, "She's your favorite author. Listen to this…"
As always, he knew me too well. He knew that deep down, I was practically screaming to hear it, but I'd wanted to try my luck anyway. I love them both, and he couldn't have looked hotter in that moment.
I stroked his arm. I was certain nobody could describe what Lucius was like in bed better than Moetia—not just because she used to be his girlfriend, but because of the unmatched talent of her prose. I told him yes, I wanted to hear every single word.
Lucius began to read:
"He, whose heart had been petrified by a fury of the sea he used to call 'my love,' stood atop the roofs of the world, surveying his domain. He cared nothing for how far his empire stretched; he only desired to find her. She, the new gardener, held the cure.
When he spotted her among the commoners, with her short hair and her fertile, feminine stride, he knew he needed to return to her small breasts. With a mere crook of his finger, she felt the summons and entered the mansion. Floating on pure desire, she walked into his bedroom without knocking, without warning. Carmilla had no need for such formalities; she was the one who gave meaning to every piece of furniture, to every million upon million stacked in the vault. Those fortress walls had been built to contain her—what a foolish notion, as if any of that material wealth could move her. No, she was only there for him.
'Wait! I don't want to cause a rift between brothers—you know I love you both,' she pleaded as she heard his command.
'Let me see you on the bed, face down. Let your breasts brush against the silk.'
He ruled his kingdom… and she did not hesitate. She obeyed, falling silent as she lay naked, exactly as he demanded. There was something about Carmilla that made his blood run hot.
He did not take her yet; he wanted more. He spoke with absolute certainty, his voice low and steady:
'Say my name once, and I will know you surrender yourself to me without limits.'
The curve of her waist arched against the sheets. The shadow of her body against the wall projected fantasies—delicious, curved fantasies of pure pleasure.
He did not repeat the order, knowing he didn't need to. Carmilla was there, breathless, slick, and waiting… Staring at her own silhouette on the wall, she decided it wasn't enough. She knew she could give him more, far more than he had asked for. Arching up onto her hands and knees on the mattress, offering herself completely to him, she finally answered. As her primitive posture unleashed uncontrollable movements that called out to him, only then did she speak:
'Your name is… Lucius, and my name is yours tonight.'"
The reading ended. Lucius slipped his phone away, looked up past me, and scoffed. "See? Do you understand why I hate romance novels now? It felt incredibly prudish. Boring. Of course, she'll change our names before publishing it, but is this really the best she can do? It's too soft… I don't see what's supposed to be thrilling about it."
But he trailed off when he actually looked at me. I was completely flushed, burning up inside. While he'd been reading Lamar's words, my only desire was to be dominated by his instincts all over again. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, my lips parted, my eyes locked entirely on his mouth.
A second later, he yanked my dress down and spun me around, pinning my chest against the cold wall.
It did absolutely nothing to put out the fire raging inside me.