Page 106 of Tempting Little Thief

To wear the seal of a Greyson on your jacket, or earn the golden pin of a secret society member, and in turn, obtain access to The Enterprise later in life, should your family need it, you have to commit, show you’re capable of holding to the word you agreed to. It’s a test, just like everything else in this world.

Accepting a place in our school, which takes a spot from another, is a binding contract … as is the one my sister signed herself away in.

Her being back goes against everything we demand from the rest of the attendees. It’s a show of prejudice to allow a pass for my own bloodline.

Of course, as my father made sure to mention, the contractual marriage between my sister and Enzo Fikile had yet to go public. As far as we’re aware, no one knows about it.

I guess that’s still to be seen, but a lie is a lie, even if no one figures it out.

As expected, the whispers begin shortly after the first class bell rings. No one asks the direct question, but it is in the eyes of everyone around, all wondering where Boston disappeared to these last three months and why she’s back.

Once lunch break rolls around, the girls and I separate, going up to the Greyson den. The rest of the day is much the same, the three of us avoiding as many people as possible, just in case questions are asked.

Unfortunately for me, on my way to meet Sai, none other than Oliver Henshaw steps up beside me.

“Princess.”

“I am no more a princess than you are a prince.”

He smirks, flashing his ridiculously expensive watch, and that means a lot coming from a girl with handbags that rival the cost of a sports car, loaded with the earth’s rarest diamonds, the Argyle, the family heirloom he never lets anyone forget about. He makes a point to run his hand along his hair to be sure I don’t miss his pompous little treasure.

“I like to believe I’m pretty equal, without the crown of course, but I can commission whatever is needed. Shall I order you a matching one?” he teases.

Ignoring his not-at-all-subtle intent, my eyes slide to his. “What can I do for you?”

“Just making sure my father isn’t telling me lies yet again.”

“I’m supposed to know what you mean?”

“Dinner on the yacht this evening … you, me, and our power-hungry fathers. Does any of this ring a bell?”

Lead fills my veins, and I jerk to a stop, my head snapping toward him, giving myself away.

So my dad is setting me up for what? Courtship now?

“Ah, yes, of course.” Oliver nods, creases forming along his temples. “You’ve been ordered to attend.”

Obviously not a question, so I don’t bother answering but start walking again.

“You should head back down to the hall,” I tell him. “If I recall, you have archery practice this afternoon and if you delay any longer, you will be late. I happen to know your captain will not be happy with that.”

“You mean you won’t put in a good word to Ander for me?” He smiles.

“Please.” I flick my eyes to the sky as I step out the double doors to where Sai is waiting, as always. “And I will not be making dinner tonight, but have a good time.”

Despite my recommendation for him to get lost, Oliver follows me out the door with a nod, glancing at my driver slash guard with a look I can’t decipher. “Saw your friend the other night,” he says lowly, and my eyes fly his way once more. Slowly, he moves them from Sai to me. “He was new.”

Bastian.

Of course people saw him. I knew this, but no one questioned me. And no one but the girls and Damiano knows who the people we allow into The Game Room actually are. For all they know, their own father’s money man could be the one eye-fucking them each night.

I manage to keep my expression masked as he’s watching me closely, the urge to jab my fingers into his big blue eyes is hard fought, his nerve almost as shocking as the smile on his face. The heir’s words are as carefully chosen as they are spoken, but there’s only one conclusion to be drawn from them, and he’s a bold son of a bitch to dare let them slip through his lips. But words are only words until they’re not, and he’s betting they are ones I don’t wish to gamble with.

“Careful. I know where you sleep at night.” It was the wrong thing to say, and I realize that as my threat evaporates into nothing when his smirk turns up ten notches.

Oliver is far from unattractive if you’re into the—as Bastian puts it—Ken Doll variety, wavy brown locks, big blue eyes, silken skin that’s sun-kissed all over, dimples, and a perfect pearly smile to go along with it.

Clearly, I’m not into that clean-cut type, andclearly, he wishes I were.

---