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I close my eyes at the sight of the last words on my page before checking the time. There are only ten minutes before we have to announce our betrayal to the entire town. Ten minutes before the world finds out that the girl we’ve all been openly showing all of our affection to is gone, and in her place is the vilest person I’ve ever encountered.
Samantha Davenport has wormed her way into a place she doesn’t belong. And what’s worse is that she made me the one who had to crush the heart of someone I love.
“Wes, man.”
I snap my book closed at the sound of Sebastian’s voice.
“What are you doing?” he probes, but I tuck my journal away before he reaches me.
“Nothing,” I retort, peering at my watch. “I still have time.”
“The Council wants to see us,” he explains.
Flexing the muscles in my jaw, I stand and straighten my tuxedo. “Fine.”
We don’t speak as we make our way to my father’s private offices. Samantha wanted the party at the Edgewood Estate, but fuck her wants. We’re at the country club. If we’re lucky, she’ll be kidnapped or murdered like the other Selection girls, but I doubt it. Vindictive bitches always live long. It’s like some unspoken deal they have with the devil.
The Council stands as we step inside. “Close the door,” my father instructs.
I do as instructed, and Sebastian and I join Lev, Wyatt, and Owen by the bar.
“What happens here tonight is important. You all need to play your part. Senator Baker will be in attendance, but our focus won’t be on him this evening,” my father explains.
I can see the matching looks of rage on each of my brothers’ faces. I know they’re wondering the same thing as I am. If the Senator will be on our turf, why aren’t we pulling the trigger?
“The mission tonight is to get Jameson,” Owen’s father states, pulling his hands from his tuxedo pants pockets. “Matthew Baker won’t give us shit, and if he goes missing, much like if Samantha does, the chip detonates.”
Unable to mask his anger, Wyatt snaps, “And what about the other two?”
“Brittany and Brian are not high enough to have the information we need. Jameson is a key player,” Wyatt’s father tells him.
“There will be time to deal with every traitor in our midst,” my father begins.
I snort. “Isn’t that what you said last time?”
“Now isn’t the time for insolence, Wesley,” my father admonishes. His pointed glare zeroing on me. “Jameson was a high enough member of the Fraternitas that he had pertinent information, and we need to know what he’s divulged along with what he knows.”
Owen steps away from the bar. “Jameson is mine,” he commands and storms toward the door.
“Wait,” Owen’s father demands, halting his son’s steps. “We can decide who does what once we have him. But, for now, you all need to be the doting and ecstatic fiancés while our teams work.”
At his words, Thomas enters, relaying the last of the instructions for the night before we make our way to the main hall.
“Where the fuck have you all been?” Samantha’s shriek announces her unwelcome arrival. “We were supposed to be inside greeting guests twenty minutes ago!”
I roll my eyes before slipping on the mask I’ve donned so many times in her presence. “We had to review the rules for this part of the Selection. Sorry to keep you waiting,” I state, trying like hell not to wring her neck as she looks up at me with lovesick eyes.
“You’re all here now, and you know what happens if you fuck this up,” she singsongs.
I subtly shake my head when Owen pulls a knife from the holster attached to his belt. His lips thin, but he puts the blade away.
“Let’s go inside,” I mutter, pulling her inside when she attempts to see what my attention is on.
The hall looks like flowers, glitter, and diamonds had an orgy. Every corner of the room is ostentatiously decorated—a perfect representation of Samantha’s personality—loud and off-putting.
This should have Ariah’s touch. I have to fight the grimace at that thought. She should be walking in on our arm. We should be announcing our engagement.
Cameras shutter as we make our way to the stage, and Samantha smiles, entirely in her element. Her nails digging into my arm—a reminder of what’s at stake. So, I banish thoughts of the girl who’s taken my heart with her and focus on trying to keep her safe.
