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We’re already at the house. I hadn’t even noticed in the darkness, but a door slides up to let the car in a garage.
“Welcome back to Manor Winterlich, ladies.”
“You’re a hero,” Bella says, hopping out of the car.
And she’s right. I don’t know how we would have managed for the night without him. We could have tried to walk here, especially since she knew how to get in, but traveling by foot would have been so unsafe. Walking five kilometers would take about an hour and a half in normal weather, but in this? There’s no telling. And there’s also no telling if a branch would have fallen down and killed us on the spot.
We would have tried, but I’m so grateful we didn’t have to.
“I really meant it, when I said thank you,” I tell Less.
No matter our history, he literally saved me and my little sister today.
“Oh, poison. You know I couldn’t possibly resist picking up my favorite toy.”
FOURTEEN
Ivy
“I’m not your anything, Alessandro,” I remind him.
“Must we play that game again, poison?” If the question makes it sound like he doesn’t want to, the eager glint in those gray eyes belies it.
Oh, he wants to play. What else does one do with toys? Only there’s a reason I removed myself from the game. To him, it’s all fun. Little as he might like the fact that I took charge of my life when I broke our engagement, he loves the fact that I went from a respectable, untouchable future lady to something he can torture as much as he wants to.
My body might have loved it, soaking in every bit of attention, but my mind was going insane with desire, with wants for things I can never have. Not from him.
“I’d rather not,” I reply honestly.
“Good. I’m glad to hear you’ve grown wiser and not just prettier.” He flashes those cheekbones, for good measure.
Someone less experienced in all things Less would have taken it as a compliment, rather than an insult mixed with a challenge.
His meaning is clear: I give him what I want, and I’m wise. I refuse, and I’m still a silly little girl who thinks she can get her way.
“Well,youhaven’t changed at all,” I counter.
“Why fuck with perfection, right?”
I open the passenger door while rolling my eyes to high heaven and back. “I’m never going to marry you.”
“Bold of you to assume I still want you to.” He chuckles, exiting the car at the same time as me.
“Hey! You’re alive,” some guy says, entering the large garage just as my sister reaches the door.
It takes me a hot second to recognize him: one of the Noble brothers. Caden, Sebastian, or Aaron, I’m not sure which. We were never close, and the three of them really look alike. I suspect he must be the eldest, because he always was Less’s particular friend.
If Less was the golden prince back in my academy days, Caden was the king of the elite. Part of it is simply based on peerage: the Valmonts are lower down the line, although their mother is our current ruler’s younger sister. The Nobles are technically Noble-Saxon-Colverts. Caden’s dad is the king’s elder brother; the only reason whytheyaren’t the main royals is because their father refused the crown.
But Caden was also higher in the hierarchy than Less because he wanted to be. He actively played the role of the perfect prince, being president of the student council, captain of the polo team, valedictorian, and—more importantly, when it comes to his popularity level—always single. Girls threw themselves at my fiancé when we were betrothed, sure, but they knew the score: his attention was going to get them nowhere. By contrast, Caden could make them princesses. Even after I broke our engagement, Less was never that appealing to the female population, as he played the wounded, unattainable boy.
Yeah, right.
“Caden!” my sister says, breaking into a grin. “Long time.”
As he kisses her cheeks, Less circles them to join me, smoothly sliding his hand around my waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I freeze.
