Chapter 3

"Finn, you should come too. Don't let what happened at lunch get between us."

Blake put on a magnanimous act, as though the humiliation in the cafeteria had never happened.

He was certain I wouldn't dare show up.

My grandfather, Charles Stanton, who'd always doted on me more than anyone, happened to be away at a resort for a few days, while my mother, Vivian Stanton, was abroad on business.

With the real owners gone, Fanny had apparently decided she was the lady of the house.

If I went to the party, I'd only be setting myself up for humiliation, forced to watch Blake play the rich heir in my own home.

If I didn't go, it would only reinforce everyone's belief that I was petty and unreasonable.

Watching his pathetic little performance, I almost laughed.

He'd done the exact same thing in my previous life. With a single party, he'd humiliated me so thoroughly that I became the laughingstock of the entire school.

But this time...

I looked up and met his challenging stare, the faintest smile touching my lips.

"Sure." I calmly accepted his invitation. "I'd like to see what you think you can get away with in my house."

On Saturday, the Stanton estate was packed with people.

By the pool, girls in bikinis and athletic jocks laughed and splashed around, while the smell of barbecue mingled with alcohol in the air.

Dressed head to toe in designer casualwear, Blake moved effortlessly through the crowd with a drink in hand, every inch the host of the party.

Fanny had traded her usual clothes for a tasteful suit. Wearing a proud smile, she directed the temporary staff she'd hired for the event, perfectly playing the role of the estate manager.

"Blake, your house is insane!"

"Seriously, this place is like a palace!"

The envious looks and awed compliments from our classmates fed Blake's ego perfectly.

I sat alone on the second-floor terrace, watching the ridiculous spectacle below with cold amusement.

Then one of the girls, dressed to turn heads, spotted the enormous climate-controlled wine cellar in the living room and gasped. "Wait, Blake, is that Romanee-Conti? I've only ever seen it in magazines!"

Everyone immediately turned to look.

The collection belonged to my grandfather. Every bottle in it was worth a fortune.

Blake's expression stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

With dozens of people watching him, his need to show off won out. He waved a hand with exaggerated generosity. "You want to try it? Sure! Drinks are on me tonight!"

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Looking pleased with himself, Blake walked over to the wine cellar and reached for the most expensive bottle.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you." My cool voice drifted down from upstairs.

Everyone looked up at me.

I slowly descended the stairs. "That's Grandpa's private collection. No one touches it without his permission."

Blake's face darkened immediately. He hated when I appeared in the middle of everyone fawning over him, like a ghost reminding him that none of this actually belonged to him.

Determined to assert his authority, he scoffed. "My parents don't care what I do. What makes you think you get a say? I'm opening it."

He grabbed the door and pulled.

It didn't budge.

He tried again. Then again, using more force each time, but the door remained firmly locked.

"What the hell?" A flicker of panic crossed his face.

I leaned casually against the banister. "Administrative passcode, fingerprint, and retinal scan. You didn't know?"

The cheers around him gradually died away. A few people began looking at Blake differently.

"You..." Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as the awkward silence stretched on.

Finally, he looked to me for help, his tone noticeably softer. "Finn, you know the code, don't you? Come on. Help me out."