First day of school

MIRABELLA

My body’s still shaking long after Kaius leaves, my skin buzzing like there’s a live wire running under it. I blow out a slow breath, forcing myself to move. I finish tugging on clean clothes, black jeans and a faded tank, then cram everything I own into my backpack. That bag is staying glued to me until I find a decent hiding spot. No way I’m letting fifteen grand out of my sight. It’s my lifeline. My ticket out.

I slip into the hallway and almost laugh. It’s so wide I swear I could drive Cassian’s entire fleet of luxury cars down it. What kind of family needs a house this size? Maybe it used to be a hotel, because it sure feels like it.

I pass four doors before I spot a narrow staircase tucked behind a half-open door. Jackpot. I take it two steps at a time, grateful for the silence. At the bottom, the house opens into a kitchen so big my jaw drops. Two massive stoves, an island with marble that probably costs more than my entire old apartment, rows of spotless white cabinets. But weirdly, no fridge. Maybe they keep the real kitchen somewhere else, in the basement where the servants hide, or where I’ll be sent to scrub floors if this whole “pretend to be normal” plan tanks. Honestly, that’d make more sense. Getting paid to play high school feels like the dumbest hustle on earth.

At the far end, floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the ocean, bright sunlight catching on ripples like glitter. There’s a giant table in front of them, long enough to seat an army. The two Windsor brothers are here. They’re wearing the same uniform, dark green blazers tossed over the backs of their chairs, white dress shirts untucked over slate-gray trousers. They look like they stepped off a magazine cover, which pisses me off because no one that pretty should be allowed to be that mean.

Cassian’s already seated, flipping through papers. He gestures to a chair. “Come sit, eat something.”

I slide into a seat as far from the boys as possible. A mountain of food sprawls across silver platters, fruit, eggs, stacks of pancakes, something that smells like cinnamon. I’m just cutting into a pancake when Kaius shoves his napkin down with enough force to rattle the silverware.

“I’ve gotta go,” he mutters. “Picking up Bianca.”

Without another glance my way, he strides out. Kaden, who’s been silent the whole time, mumbles something under his breath, then trails after his brother. They don’t look at me. It’s like I’m invisible.

Cassian sighs like his lungs are deflating. “I’m sorry. I thought…well. I hoped they’d be more welcoming.”

I give a noncommittal shrug, focus on my plate. Welcoming? I’d have settled for indifferent.

He pushes aside his stack of papers, studying me with a tired smile. “Enjoying your meal?”

I nod, mouth too full of syrup to answer.

When I’ve finally gotten rid of the food in my mouth, I look at him. “So three boys huh? That’s quite a handful.”

“Their mother died two years ago,” he says softly. “Jane was the glue. After she was gone…we all sort of unraveled. I was chasing business deals across the globe, trying to save the company. Managed that much, at least. The family…well, still working on that.”

Based on the Windsor brothers’ stellar charm, I’d say they’re nowhere near even trying, but I grunt a polite noise that Cassian seems to take as encouragement.

“Tristan’s the oldest. He’s away at college but comes home on weekends. You’ll meet him tonight.”

“Can’t wait.” I force a bright smile that probably looks like a grimace.

He laughs quietly, rubs the back of his neck. “After we get you enrolled, Marissa, my girlfriend, wants to take you shopping. I figure you can start classes Monday.”

“How far behind am I?”

“Only two weeks. Your records are impressive, so you’ll be fine.”

“Your PIs must be pretty thorough if they dug up my school records.”

“You moved a lot. Once I knew your mother’s full name, it wasn’t hard.”

I set down my fork. “My mom did the best she could.”

His expression sharpens. “She stripped. Did she make you—”

“No.” My chair screeches back as I stand. “That was my choice.”

Cassian stands too, grabs my arm. “Look, I—”

“Am I interrupting something?” Kaius’ cold voice slices through the room. I whip around. He’s standing in the doorway, green eyes like steel. He doesn’t like me close to his dad. So, because I’m an idiot who thrives on self-destruction, I step closer to Cassian. Almost under his arm.

Cassian’s too distracted to notice my game. But Kaius does. His eyes narrow to dangerous slits. I rest a hand on Cassian’s shoulder, smiling sweetly. “Just chatting with your dad.”

Kaius’’ jaw ticks. “Forgot my jacket.”

He snatches it off the chair, glaring at me one last time. “See you at school, Kaius,” I call lightly. His shoulders go rigid, then he stalks out.

Cassian exhales a slow laugh. “You’re poking a tiger.”

“He poked me first.”

Cassian shakes his head. “Raising boys was an adventure. You’re going to be something else entirely, aren’t you?”

***

Kieran drives us to school. Cassian sits beside me, buried in blueprints. Ten minutes crawl by before he finally says, “I’m sorry. I’ve been playing catch-up. Took some time off after Adrian died.”

My throat tightens. “My father liked planes?”

“He loved flying. Testing, designing, he lived for it.”

I stare out the window. It’s easier to keep him a ghost. Someone easy to hate. Knowing he had passions, dreams, it complicates everything.

Cassian’s voice gentles. “You can ask me about him, Mirabella. Anytime.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

The rest of the morning blurs. The headmaster shakes my hand like I’m royalty, and barely asks me any question about my background. As I leave his office moments later, clutching my schedule and feeling oddly weightless, I realize Cassian must’ve paid him a fortune.

A girl waits outside the office. School uniform—white shirt, slate skirt, green tie, perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect everything. “I’m Tessa,” she says with a plastic smile. “I’ll be your tour guide.”

She sizes me up, nose wrinkling at my thrift-store jeans and chipped nail polish. “Your uniforms will arrive this weekend. The skirts are non-negotiable, but you can bribe the teachers to look the other way if you want them shorter.”

“Blow them too?” I ask sweetly.

Her eyes widen, then she laughs. “No—cash works fine.”

Figures. I keep my mouth shut as she parades me through marble halls and sunlit courtyards, babbling about Silvercrest Hall’s traditions. Then her smile sharpens. “The Windsors run this place, Bella. They make the rules.”

“Then I’ll just break them.”

She laughs, but it’s thin. “Be careful. One word from kaius, and you’re invisible. Or worse.”

“Is this supposed to scare me?”

“No. Just the truth.”

We lock eyes. Hers say bow or bleed. Mine say try me. Finally she sighs. “Come on, Bella. I’ll show you the football stadium.”

***

The day crawls. Every class starts with a spotlight, with teachers making me stand, announcing my name and making me say a few words. Nobody talks to me, and I’m glad for it. When the final bell rings, I could collapse from relief.

Outside, a sleek car pulls up. A platinum blonde in stilettos wobbles over. “Hi! I’m Marissa, Cassian’s friend. Ready to shop Eleanor?”

“Bella,” I correct. But it’s too late because she’s already dragging me into the car with a breathy giggle.

An hour later, she’s blowing through Cassian’s platinum card like it’s confetti. I nearly choke at the total, but Marissa just swipes, all chirpy happiness.

When we pull back into the Windsor driveway, she’s still talking about shoes. Cassian meets us at the door, bright with pride. “Come on, Bella. I want you to meet my oldest.”

Out back, a boy cuts through the pool like a blade. When he hauls himself out—tall, muscled, soaked, Marissa actually sighs.

Or maybe it’s a moan. Either way, the hunger on her face makes my stomach twist. Cassian seems oblivious to this. But I can’t get Marissa’s expression out of my head. She totally is into Tristan. Am I the only one who can see this?