Page 51 of Bad Little Bride

I slip away, hoping the heat dancing up my chest doesn’t make it past the high neck of my dress.

I get two steps when Rocklin whispers something to Bastian. He meets my gaze a moment, dipping his chin, and I offer a small wave back as Rocklin breaks away, meeting me halfway.

She sighs, grabs my right hand, and drags me to the small pop-up bar at the far right of the room, her undercover recruits for the Greyson Society behind the counter.

She passes me a chardonnay and takes a small glass of dark liquor for herself, clinking it against my own. We take a small sip and I laugh around the rim, my eyes trailing over her man.

“What?” She scowls.

“The last time I saw Bastian he was in a leather jacket and faded jeans.”

Rocklin chuckles, eating up the sight of Bastian who keeps her in his line of sight from across the room. “He looks damn good in a suit, doesn’t he?”

“He’s all right.”

Her glare swings my way and we both laugh.

“Hey, you’ve got the second hottest man on your arm tonight,” she teases.

“Speaking of hot men,” I say, “I saw Mr. Galley, but he said Nicholas wasn’t coming tonight.”

Rocklin nods, her gaze surveying the room. “He’s on a job from what we’re being told. No one has seen him since Bastian took Dad’s place. Mr. Galley says he’ll be back at Greyson in the fall, but we shall see,” she muses.

Interesting, but it could be true. I sent him on a mission of my own once, too.

In retrospect, it’s not exactly something to brag about.

Rocklin turns my way suddenly, her expression pointed. “Small talk is out of the way, so let’s get to the real shit. You’re here with the man you went after and hooked, so why do you look like you’re going to vomit for the next five days if you try to eat anything?”

I hate how she knows everything about me sometimes.

I consider lying, telling her everything is fine, but decide a small truth would be simpler. Besides, she now teaches the course on human lie detectors at the academy. “We have a lot to learn about each other.”

“And you don’t like everything you’ve come to know.”

“Nope.” I down my wine like it’s hard liquor and ask for a larger pour on the second one. “How do you know Katana?” I ask as casually as I can.

“She accepted the invitation to Greyson Elite this fall,” she says it with an expression on her face that can only meanduh.

In all fairness, it was a stupid question when I know how it works.

You can only get into Greyson Elite if you’re invited, and once you accept, you’re required to come in for an in-person meeting, aka interrogation, where the Greyson girls—my sister, Delta, and their other best friend Bronx—decide if they are going to rescind your invite or file it away and get a room ready for you in the boarding school dorms.

“The only reason we allowed her to do a video call is because Enzo had already signed the contract for your marriage.” She frowns. “Bronx was pissed, special treatment and all that, but I told her she can hack her way into the girl’s brain for all I care, so she got over it.”

“Where is Bronx?”

“Working.”

It’s the only answer I get as I’m not a “Greyson girl.”

I used to think I would have the chance to fill that last seat the Greyson girls sit on, but that’s not how it works.

Greyson girls must be representatives of each criminal district—north, south, east, and west. Delta, Bronx, and my sister make up three-fourths, but the fourth district has kept their heiress hidden for over a decade now, and if they don’t surface soon, everything they’ve worked for could fall apart.

“I knew she’d be a popular one,” Rocklin muses, spinning and leaning her back against the bar—her bare back, thank you very much.

I follow my twin’s line of sight to where Katana stands with a girl I don’t recognize, no less than five guys standing around her, vying for her attention.

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