MasukI stepped out of the Maybach like I owned the goddamn world, my skirt riding up just enough to tease the morning sunlight on my toned thighs. The Y2K pink top I bought out of boredom clung to my curves, fluffy accents bouncing with every sway of my hips, and my heels clicked like a declaration of war. 'Yep Look at me.' Greenwich Academy’s grand iron gates loomed ahead, the sprawling campus a perfect mix of ivy-covered stone buildings for us legacy rich kids and the slightly less shiny wings for the scholarship strays. Tanya Brawn types. Pathetic. My gaze landed on Edgar and Ethan. They’d only been back a week, but the whole school buzzed with it, the Caldwell twins, heirs to their family’s empire, back from America to reclaim their thrones. Gods among mortals. My gods. “Edgar! Ethan!” I called out, my voice a sugary lilt that carried across the courtyard. Heads turned. Perfect. I didn’t wait for an invitation. I strutted straight to them, my bag swinging, and fastened my arms aroun
I woke up Monday morning with that delicious ache still throbbing between my thighs, a filthy reminder of what Edgar and Ethan had done to me at their family dinner. My body betrayed me even in sleep nipples tight under my silk sheets, pussy slick just from dreaming about their long fingers stretching me open while their parents chatted oblivious to what was going on a few feet away. God, they were so fucking good at it. Cold, like they owned every gasp I made. I came twice that night once under the dining table like a desperate little slut, and again in the upstairs where they pinned me against the wall and worked me until my knees buckled. But they didn’t want me well not really, not the way I needed them to. They’d smirked, wiped their fingers on my dress like I was nothing, and sent me home dripping and ruined. It pissed me off. I’m Ava fucking Montgomery. Queen of Greenwich Academy. Every guy at school would kill to touch me, and these rich, twisted Caldwells twins act like I
The heavy oak door of the Caldwell mansion closed behind our family with a soft click. I had fought this dinner with every ounce of stubbornness I possessed, yet here I was dragged from the safety of my bedroom. Sophia Caldwell greeted us warmly, her elegant emerald gown rustling as she drew me into an embrace . “Ava, my dear, how lovely you look in that pink. Thank you for coming. It truly means a great deal, especially now that my Boys are home at last .” I forced a polite smile, murmuring thanks even as heat rose faintly in my cheeks. Father and Mother exchanged pleasantries with Mr. Caldwell. The dining room glowed beneath the crystal chandelier, the long mahogany table set with exquisite precision, fine china, heavy silver, and glasses that sparkled like captured starlight. The air was rich with the aromas of herb crusted lamb, roasted vegetables, and the deep notes of aged Bordeaux. I took the seat between the twins, the sequins of my dress whispering against the velvet c
I had not left my room since the moment I fled last night. Twenty-four hours of self-imposed exile in a mansion that suddenly felt like prison. The heavy oak door remained locked, the curtains drawn halfway so that only thin blades of afternoon light sliced across the cream carpet. My once-immaculate bedroom now looked like the aftermath of a very dignified hurricane: discarded heels lying like fallen soldiers near the chaise, the black cocktail dress from last night draped accusingly over the velvet armchair, and an assortment of half-eaten snacks scattered across my vanity like evidence of my nighttime crimes. I, Ava Montgomery, queen of Greenwich Academy, captain of the cheer squad, and professional breaker of hearts, had been reduced to sneaking downstairs at two in the morning like a common thief just to steal a packet of imported Belgian chocolate biscuits and a tub of salted caramel ice cream. Pathetic. Utterly, gloriously pathetic. I lay sprawled across my king-sized bed in
My champagne glass felt slippery in my suddenly sweaty palm. I couldn’t stop sneaking glances even though I had turned my back to the entrance. My heart was beating so hard it hurt.They were here. Ethan and Edgar Caldwell were standing somewhere behind me in this very ballroom, and it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire.I took a slow, steadying breath, forcing my signature smile onto my face. I was Ava Montgomery. I don't get nervous. I make other people nervous. Still, my legs were shaky as I turned around, pretending I was simply scanning the room for someone important.There they were.Taller than I remembered. Much taller. Both of them easily over six feet now, with broad shoulders that filled their tailored black suits perfectly. Their faces were the same… yet completely different. Sharper jawlines, stronger cheekbones, and an aura of raw masculinity that made my stomach tighten in ways I didn’t want to admit.Ethan stood slightly to the left, his posture rigid, expres
I stared at my reflection in the massive gilded mirror of my walk-in closet, tilting my head as I ran my fingers through my long, platinum blonde hair. It fell in perfect, silky waves down my back. Most girls at Greenwich Academy would kill for this hair. Hell, they’d kill to be me.Ava Montgomery. Queen of the senior class. Captain of the cheer squad. The girl who could make or break reputations with a single raised eyebrow or a well-timed whisper. I knew exactly what I was; spoiled, beautiful, and a little bit vicious when I needed to be. Boys tripped over themselves for my attention. Girls either wanted to be me or hated me, well I liked it that way. The annual Montgomery-Caldwell Charity Gala was happening downstairs in our ballroom, the same event my family had hosted every year for as long as I could remember. Crystal chandeliers, live orchestra, expensive champagne, and enough diamonds to blind half of Connecticut. My mother, Elizabeth Montgomery, was probably already gliding







