Exiting the car, I lock it and head to the elevator. Once inside, I feel less stressed, and I no longer feel like I’m being watched. I can breathe again. The doors slide open on the ninth floor, and by the time I reach my apartment, nine-six-nine, I’m ready for a long, hot bubble bath, a mug of hot chocolate, and a good book.
When I shove open the door, something catches my eye lying on the marble tiles. The item is a small black envelope with a crest emblazoned on the front. I’ve never seen it before, but the gold shimmers in the light of the sun streaming through my living room window.
Locking myself inside the apartment, I head straight for the kitchen and open the envelope. Inside is a card with a rose printed dead center, and just underneath it is a time, an address, and a scrawled see you soon.
Ice sneaks up my spine, settling at the base of my neck, ensuring the hairs stand on end as goosebumps rise in the wake of the promise in those three words. My fingers release the card, allowing it to flutter to the counter, but my gaze is still locked on the unfamiliar script.
If someone from New York is here, toying with me, my father will have to be informed. But if this is just some childish prank by one of my classmates, I don’t find it funny. Tomorrow, I’ll ask around. But even as I think about who it could be from class, I don’t see any one of them doing something like this.
I race for the bedroom and grab my laptop. Opening the lid, I log into my account and pull up a browser. Tapping in the address from the invite, I wait for the page to load. Onscreen are images of a beautiful castle-type house I recognize from the hill in town.
The old structure is still in perfect condition. With turrets and gargoyles, it’s certainly a fairytale monstrosity. I overheard students talking about a party that takes place there every year, but I never paid much attention because I’ve never been allowed to go to parties back home. Here, however, it seems someone has noticed me, and I have a feeling it’s not a good thing.
Clicking on the website, I scroll through the information telling me about the family who lives in the house—Haven. The name causes a shiver to trickle down my spine when I recall the town’s name, along with the girls talking about the Haven guys earlier. I enlarge the slideshow of images, showing off a masquerade ball. All the people in the photos are hidden behind exquisite masks and draped in dresses and suits I’m sure cost a fortune.
There’s not much information on the family besides their last name and the fact that there are three adopted sons of Mr. Haven, who, apparently, remarried after his first wife died after the boys were all grown up.
No more mention of her name, and no photos of any of the family members. Even though I know a bit more now than I did before, I’m still confused as to why I received an invite.
Shutting my computer, I strip off my clothes and make my way into the bathroom. My apartment is much bigger than most students would be able to afford, but Dad ensured I’m taken care of, and I’m lucky enough to have space. The bathroom itself boasts a tub as well as a shower with countertops in black marble and chrome taps.
I wanted to soak in bubbles, but right now, I’m too nervous to lie back and relax, so instead, I step into the shower and turn on the spray. I allow the warm pinpricks to attack my shoulders as I close my eyes. The tension coiled in my muscles doesn’t untangle, and I’m still anxious by the time I step out and wrap myself in a towel.
I haven’t been here for too long, so the only connections I really have made were the three girls today. Perhaps one of them knows what this means. Once I get to class tomorrow, I’ll ask them. Maybe since Miriam is the party girl, she’ll be able to pinpoint just who the stranger is who’s invited me to the party.
2
Creed
My brother Keirin stares at me as I take a long pull on the cigarette pinched between my fingers. I don’t always smoke, but I’ve been tense since I saw her in person. He’s the only one of us that’s blond with fucking blue eyes. A pretty boy.
“Are you seriously going through with it?” he questions, arching a golden brow at me. His curious expression makes me chuckle. He’s more levelheaded than I am, and I’m more willing to take risks when it comes to our game of choice. When I told him the redhead is mine, he argued, but when I explained my reasoning, he realized there was nothing he could do to change it.
“Yes,” I tell him while blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Why would I not do it?” It’s a challenge. They all know what I’m like. Brody, our third and youngest brother, is similar to me, a wild card if ever I saw one. At twenty-two, he enjoys the chase. My need for control takes hold when I’m playing the game, and they both know it.
“I gotta admit, Man.” Keirin shakes his head. “She is a stunner.” He pushes to his feet and heads for the window, tugging the curtains just enough for him look out over the vast expanse of our backyard.
We all three came from broken homes. Octavius, our father through adoption, along with his
