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My good mood deflates like a balloon. I have not one, but two of the hottest guys in school taking me to the dance, so why can’t I get the boy with the sunshine smile out of my head?
“I heard she’s taking Gabriel and Noah to the homecoming dance.”
“That’s not allowed. Is that allowed?”
“Cleo says it’s not, but that new English teacher took over as faculty advisor for the dance committee and he overruled her. Have you seen him? He’s completely ripped. He’d be so fucking hot if it wasn’t for his scarred-up face—”
I’ll show you a scarred-up face.
I keep my homicidal thoughts to myself. Tiberius can handle his own reputation. Voices swirl around me as I dump my backpack on the bleachers and pick up my pom-poms. I’m used to being the focus of gossip at this school. The minute I step outside Malloy Manor, the whispers claw at my back. At least now I’m in control of the narrative. A few girls even look at me with awe in their eyes.
Damn right, bitches. One guy isn’t enough for Mackenzie Malloy.
Antony blows the whistle, and we line up for warm-up drills. I can tell by the smirk on his face as he watches Daphne’s ass in her short skirt that he’s not sad about being stuck with Mrs. Anderson’s after school activities.
As squad captain, Cleo leads us through the halftime routine we’ll perform at Friday’s game. Football isn’t a big deal at Stonehurst – although that might just be because our team is shit. Most of the popular jocks play lacrosse or tennis or are on the track team, and no college recruiters turn up to the games to scout hot talent. But the cheerleading squad is another story. Cleo led the team to take the national championships last year, and before that, they’ve been state champions ten years running. In the sport of bouncing around like bulimic bunnies, Stonehurst is number one.
I’m glad I spent all that time over the years working out in the ballroom and dancing to Gabriel’s music, or I’d struggle to keep up. Today, Cleo is extra brutal, making us repeat every move until it meets her standards. My muscles scream in protest as I lift Daphne onto my shoulders. She kicks me in the ear as she flips. From the smile on her face as I set her down, I’m sure it’s deliberate.
“Again,” Cleo barks, twisting her head to the side to bat her eyelashes at Antony as she bounces into a series of back handsprings, flashing her black lace underwear. It’s gross.
Antony’s phone beeps. He turns away to read the message. Cleo finishes showing off, frowning when she notices Antony isn’t even looking. When Antony turns back, the vein in his neck swells and I know I’m in trouble.
“Great work, Ms. St. James. If you can’t find a rich sugar daddy, you may have a future in the sports industry yet.” Antony nods to the gym door. “Ms. Malloy, can I see you outside for a second?”
Cleo’s jealous gaze burns into my back as I follow Antony into the corridor. He slams the gym door and pulls me into a narrow closet that serves as Mrs. Anderson’s office. I sit gingerly on the corner of his desk as he slams the door so hard the wood cracks.
“Antony, what the hell—”
“You didn’t tell me your fucking boyfriend was connected to the Lucian family,” Antony hisses. He slams the trash can against the floor with such force he dents it.
I shake my head. “That’s insane. We dealt with Senator Marlowe. No way would he risk it getting out that he’s working with one of the gangs—”
“Not him. I’m talking about Captain America. I have Joey watching his house. He says Nero pulled up at his place last night and he hasn’t left.”
Nero.
No no no no.
Nero fucking Lucian – Imperator of the Lucian family. Nero is a cold, calculating motherfucker with a vacuum-cleaner salesman smile. I don’t want him anywhere near Eli.
“I swear I didn’t know about this.” I reach for his phone. “I trust Joey sent pictures.”
Antony grunts. I scroll through his messages until I come to the series of images from Joey – it’s Nero all right, entering the house, being greeted at the door by Eli’s mother – who wears a figure-hugging fishtail dress with silver threads shot through the fabric.
But Eli’s family has a housekeeper. Shouldn’t she be answering the door?
I keep scrolling. There’s Nero kissing her hand, and her beckoning him inside with her index finger. Joey has pictures of Eli arriving home timestamped an hour later. There’s a picture through the window of their dining room of the three of them eating dinner together, and Nero’s car parked in their driveway overnight.
I’m not the only one with secrets.
“It looks like he’s Eli’s mother’s boy toy,” I say with more confidence than I feel. The three of them sitting around the table, Eli’s mother reaching across to her son. Eli’s back is to the camera, so I can’t see his face, but it looks like the perfect happy family portrait. “Eli might not know—”
“I don’t care. You’ve got to get this under control.” Antony snatches the phone from my fingers. “If your boyfriend tells the Lucian family who you really are, you know what this could mean—”
“He wouldn’t do that.” But honestly, I have no idea what Eli will do. I betrayed him and he’s hurting. Just because he punched Alec doesn’t mean he’s forgiven me.
Another thought occurs to me – that this might not be a coincidence. But I don’t know what that means exactly. And I won’t know until I can find out from Eli, who isn’t currently talking to me.
