“Kimble,” he answered.
“I’m going to my room to rest,” I repeated the orders my father had given me.
He took a step on the massive winding staircase. “Are you going to watch me sleep? You’re not really my type, Kimble. It could get awkward.”
“I’ll be outside your door.” He pursed his lips together.
“And what about your sidekick?”
“He’ll be here as well.”
I huffed and continued up the staircase. “Seems like a lot of security for one person.”
“You’re not just anyone.” We stopped outside my bedroom door. My father’s personal attendant passed us in the hallway. Kimble’s hand moved to the latch. “You’re Lucien Martin’s daughter.”
I was reminded often who my father was. I groaned, slipped into my room, and locked Kimble out.
2
Knight
Assholes. All of them.
I watched them dance and drink through the windows. The house was lit up like a damn Christmas tree. My eyes moved from the top floor to the bottom. There wasn’t a dark room in the old mansion. The street was lined with houses like this one. Wrought iron gates. Family crests hung over the entryway, meant to intimidate. Gas lamps flickering with false warmth.
“Knight, you going in?”
I turned when Parker Bastion appeared. I hadn’t thought about who was on the guest list. I took another drag on the cigarette.
“I guess.” I shrugged.
He stood next to me trying to figure out what I was doing outside when the party was on the other side of the door.
“You kind of have to, don’t you?” I felt my friend’s eyes watching me instead of the house.
I blew a puff of smoke in the air. “Seraphina would notice if I didn’t show for her engagement party.”
“The in-laws have a nice place.” He straightened the tie on his tuxedo.
I nodded. My sister was engaged to Brandon Castille. His family owned a steakhouse franchise that was well-established in the southern states. Brandon’s mother’s family was considered to be one of the founding families of New Orleans. My father approved of the match. I knew he had orchestrated it. My sister hadn’t had much say in the arrangement.
“I hope Seraphina likes it. She’s moving in here.” I snuffed the cigarette under my shoe.
“That’s rough.” Parker slid his hands in his pockets. “Married at twenty-one and moving in with her husband’s parents? Even if they do get their own floor, sounds like a shitty way to start a marriage.”
I popped a piece of gum in my mouth. The mint immediately washed out the taste of tabaco.
“I need to get this over with.”
Parker slapped me on the back. “They have free booze. It can’t be that bad.”
I chuckled. Free anything didn’t have meaning to me. We climbed the front steps together. The marble gleamed. As the doors swung open the music from the band blared. Parker and I had been friends since we were kids. We grew up in the organization. Each of us the first-born son, poised to take over one day. Our families were allies. Always a plus.
“Bar’s this way. I’ll be right back.” I lost Parker when he disappeared in the crowd.
I strolled past the guests, looking for an easy exit. The fewer the people, the better. That was impossible with this kind of setting.
“Knight, you made it!” Suddenly a blur of white hurdled toward me. It was Seraphina in a beaded gown. My younger sister wiggled past an older couple and threw herself at my chest.
“This is some party.” I peeled her off me. Her blue eyes flickered. She looked terrified. The way she looked when I had once dared her to touch the drain in the deep end of the pool. She was only five then.
Seraphina tugged on my elbow, dragging me to an empty hallway.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Are you still smoking?” She scrunched her petite nose. “I can smell it on you.”
I groaned. “I’m not up for a lecture on cigarettes.”
“It’s gross. You should stop. And if Mother knew—””
I exhaled. “What do you need? Did someone drop a platter of hors d’oeuvres?”
“No,” she snapped. “I don’t care about the stupid food. It’s this. It’s Brandon and his parents. I don’t know if I can go through with this.” She picked at her nails. “It’s too much. This family is crazy. I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“All families are crazy. You think ours is any better?” My hands landed on her shoulders. “What about Brandon? You two seem like a good fit.”
Her long lashes fluttered until her eyes closed. I could tell she was trying not to cry.
“He’s no different than his parents,” she whispered. “Can’t you help me? I don’t want to marry him. Please, Knight. You have to do something. Get me out of this.”
Seraphina didn’t know about the fight I’d had with our father when he announced the engagement. He was part of the old regime. The old New Orleans that still believed in arranging marriages and brokering deals through offspring.
I sighed. “Sorry, kid. There’s nothing I can do.”
“But you’ll be in charge soon,” she urged. “You’re next in line to run the family. Please.”
I hated that she was begging for her freedom. I hated that she looked to me for salvation. I hated that there wasn’t shit I could do about any of it. Soon was relative. My father was fit and healthy. He walked the golf course twice a week. He played tennis. Swam laps regularly. He wasn’t even sixty.
I shook my head. “Try to make the most of it. You can spend Brandon’s parent’s steak fortune. That could be fun. Take your friends on a trip. Buy a new horse.” She was an avid rider.
Her eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want their fucking steak money.”
“Seraphina, just hang in there.” I didn’t know what else to say. Should I tell her I had already threatened our father? That I pinned him to the desk in his office and hovered my fist inches from his nose. Did I
