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“Ugh. Good luck with that. Later, babe.”

“Later.”

FIVE MINUTES. I was pretty sure that was how long I slept before my obnoxious alarm clock went off. I had to do a double take to make sure I read the clock correctly.

Dear God, save me.

Sitting up, my legs dangled over my bed as I rubbed my blurry eyes. My back was tight, as were my shoulders and thighs. It wasn’t too bad though, but maybe that was due to the Motrin I had taken before bed. Only time would tell.

Alfred would be here in forty-five minutes to pick me up, so I quickly brewed a cup of coffee from my Keurig and began to get ready.

About a year ago, my mother started giving me coffee to drink to replace meals. To shut her up, I told her it helped curb my appetite, but it never really did. Maybe an hour at most. I worked out hard, and I was hungry often.

In the end, I just developed a taste for Starbucks.

I packed my bag quickly, making sure I had two of those tasteless meals my mom loved so much, along with some protein bars and water bottles. And just in case, I grabbed the bottle of Motrin. Today would be another long day and I wasn’t sure how I would fare.

Like clockwork, Alfred texted me saying he was outside. That man was perpetually on time, something I appreciated. Locking up my condo, I took the elevator down and jumped into the SUV.

“Miss—”

I gave him the look. “Thomas.” I only used Thomas when I was serious.

He smirked. “How are you this morning?”

“Eh. A little sore, but not as bad as I thought I’d be,” I said, fastening my seatbelt.

He dipped his chin. “That’s good to hear. Do you know what time you’ll be done today?”

“Not really, and after what I learned yesterday, who knows. I don’t have school today, so I guess whenever Coach says I’m done. I’ll text you when I get out and just wait for you to get there.”

“How about you just send me a text during lunch and give me a roundabout idea?”

“I can do that.”

Changing the subject, he said, “I hope you’re paying attention to where we’re going. You know when you turn sixteen you’re on your own, young lady.”

“Do you really think my parents will let you leave me alone in this city all by myself? It’s one thing being alone on the Island, it’s another thing in a town they aren’t familiar with. I just don’t see it happening anytime soon, especially when the media gets a hold of the fact I’m not there anymore.”

Rossi Enterprises was a well known real estate developer. They were responsible for many residential and commercial buildings in Palm Beach. The company had been in my family for many years, beginning with my grandfather Angelo, who founded it. He started small with money he was given by his father, who had been a successful real estate agent at the time. Angelo took a chance against his father’s advice and built a hotel with the money, then bought land from that income and built more commercial real estate and eventually residential properties. He did very well, but it was my dad who partnered with Avery’s father, Michael Heron, years before either of us were born and created an empire, building high-end properties in major cities around the world. The name grew quickly, as did fame and fortune, and with that came unwanted press. Rossi Enterprises was now responsible for more than twenty-five hundred properties worldwide, coming in as one of the top developers in the world.

But leave it to my brother and his wild friends to attract bad publicity from their drunken crusades at the nightclubs and private parties, not to mention, public arrests. It didn’t help that Avery had twin brothers around the same age as Xavier. It was an ongoing joke between both families that both pregnancies were planned. My brother and Avery’s were thick as thieves and only fueled the press. I lost track of the amount of times Dad had to bail them out of jail for things like drugs, crazy parties, and reckless driving. The band of brothers, as the media called them, were a force that couldn’t be stopped. They flaunted whatever they could and took advantage of everything at their disposal. If outsiders only knew what went on behind closed doors.

The Rossi name was soon on everyone’s lips. Anything we or the Herons did spread like wildfire, therefore making the boys a magnet for the paparazzi. My parents paid a lot of money to keep things out of the media, but some still made the front page.

Pursing his lips, Alfred snuck a glance at me. “Honey, when it comes to your parents, I have no idea what they’ll do. I just want you to be prepared. Personally, I’d like it if you got used to your surroundings and the street names before I leave.”

I nodded, agreeing with him as we pulled into World Cup. My stomach was immediately in knots, anxious for what was to come. I was running on five minutes of sleep, Starbucks, and a prayer.

“You’re right...I’ll pay attention starting tomorrow.”

“Have a good training sesh,” Alfred said as I stepped out of the Escalade, causing me to pause and look over my shoulder.

“Did you just say sesh? Tell me you did not just say that.” Sesh was the slang everyone was using for session back home.

“What? Isn’t that what everyone is saying these days? I’m just trying to keep up with the times.”

“Alfred,” I said, shaking my head with a big smile. “See you later.”

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