NINEAfter my nap on Kade's leather lounge, I spend the rest of the afternoon helping Portia move things around the manor. We empty a bathroom that needs plumbing work and re-arrange an entire laundry cupboard. It isn't until the sun sinks below the horizon that I head back to my quarters. I breeze through the manor as if it were my own, enjoying the bare soles of my feet glide along the delicate, polished tiles. Ambrosial wafts of meat and roasting vegetables hang in the air and make my stomach rumble. I close my eyes. I'll never get to taste the food, but for a moment, I imagine it melting on my tongue, its juices mixing with my saliva and just—"Look what the wind blew in." I open my eyes and turn my head toward the voice. I stand before an elaborate drawing room scattered with Fortunates. They drape their bodies over mahogany lounges and armchairs, a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other for most. In the front left portion of the room, three men sit around a rounded table. T

NINELater that night, I tiptoe through the manor at a ridiculous hour and against my Fortunate's orders. Unease churns in my chest, but I've been diligent in avoiding unsavoury characters. Lucky for me, the manor is quieter tonight than it has been since my arrival, and I reach Kade's room without hindrance. I knock on the door, then open it and ease inside. A fire rages in the corner, crackling loudly, casting a bright, orange glow around the room, filling it with a warmth that wraps around me. It's heavy against my skin, igniting little lightning bolts along my flesh. I have no business being in his room at this hour, but I can't sleep. I can't sleep until today's problems are put to rest. A heavy sigh draws my attention to his desk across the room. Swivelling in his oversized, wing-back chair, Kaden Sario is slumped, his head back, his white shirt unbuttoned, and an odd thrill zips the length of my spine. I reach behind me and lock the door. The click of the locking mechanism ale

NINEDays have passed since the night Kade and I slept on the couch, wrapped in his comforting embrace. The night we shared plagues me. Every second thought I have is how warm he was, how tight he held me, how safe I felt. I've become fixated on the gentle blow of his breath through my hair, the tiny dancers that pirouetted down my spine in its wake. I've obsessed over the fact he didn't leave me to sleep on the hard floor...and I'm terrified of the buds of affection that have bloomed in my chest since. Sighing, I push the blankets to my hips and roll onto my back. I stare at the piqued ceiling, the golden morning sun bringing out the ochre hues in the wood. I've memorised every line, every nook, every cranny. When I close my eyes at night, it's all I see, driving me crazy. I'm forbidden to walk around the manor without Kade's supervision. I didn't mind it at first, preferring to stay as far from another living, breathing Fortunate as I can, but day and night are blending, and Kade a

I hate the way my heart races, the way my skin prickles. I hate how good his lips look and how bad I want to kiss them. An eternity of Unfortunates have suffered at the unwanted hands of Fortunates, and here I sit, on the lap of one, enticed by one. Do you like this? he asks a silent question. I nod, barely a movement, and he tightens his hold, pulling me against him. I go with it, turning my head into his neck. The tip of my nose kisses the hard ridge of his jaw as his lips graze my hair-covered nape. He smells of a fresh shower, of soap and cotton. I hold my breath, not wanting my short pants to blow across his flesh and expose me. I drop my shoulder and tilt my head, offering myself up. I remember liking the way he kissed me, the feel of his lips. It's a vivid memory of the night of his birthday. I was swept up in the passion he stirred in me, and I would've given him everything then and there if he asked. "It's unlikely Albert Knowle will kiss you," he murmurs, teasing me with

KADEAs the sun set below the horizon, the Sario courtyard came to life. It sparkled and dazzled, and Fortunates complimented him on the decor—something he had no part in. He thanked them anyway, then turned away, finding solace in his glass of whiskey, but no matter how hard he tried to ignore her, he couldn't. The hair on the back of his neck remained raised, and the tiny dancers on his skin continued to pirouette. He glanced at her as he tipped the remnants of his drink down his throat. She stood a step behind him, a pillar of grace with her fingers threaded behind her back, draped in a long, deep navy tunic that matched his three-piece suit. It was her first time wearing a First Unfortunate tunic. It signalled that she had settled into the role and was ready for whatever duties he requested of her. She was clean, her skin glowing under the warm twinkle of lights, her long auburn hair draping down her chest. His stomach pulled tight, and he choked on his whiskey as flashes of her b