Page 105 of Beautiful Sinners

“Rebuilding would be my guess,” he replies. “The explosion didn’t cause much damage. It was more of a distraction.”

I want to point out that thedistractionknocked my ass out.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find that the girls are still watching. “They’re cute.”

Evan turns to see who I’m talking about. “Not my type.”

“What is your type?” I probe.

“Not them.”

There’s a flash of pale blonde hair in my peripheral, and without looking, I know it’s Serena. If she shouts ‘burn girl,’ I’m going to kick her ass. Almost daring her to, I slow my pace and turn my head. Next to her is Katalina, looking as refined and porcelain as she did yesterday. But it’s the person they’re talking to who I lock eyes with. Aleksander sends me a subtle chin lift and a small smile. I don’t return it. I can’t deal with either of them right now, so I herd Evan down the paved sidewalk that cuts right through the center of the quad.

Serena and Hendrix. Serena and Aleksander. She must be Society. Katalina, too, especially after what Tristan said about his parents pushing him to get with her. No wonder she kept giving me bitch eyes yesterday. I don’t recall ever meeting them growing up, not even at the annual galas. Their families must be newer members, which means I’ll have to deal with them at some point.

Fuck me.

“What?” Evan says.

Did I say that out loud?

“Just me talking to myself. Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“How did Cillian know Aleksander and Aleksei were going to be at the Knight Estate?”

It’s something I’ve asked a few times now and one I still don’t have an answer for.

Evan rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Dad has a habit of not telling me shit other than ordering me around. Sometimes, I feel more like one of his lackeys than his son.”

I know all too well the pressures a parent can place on their child to become who they want them to be.

When we reach the large fountain, I abruptly stop.

“Do you happen to have a penny handy?” The wind blows spray into my face, misting my hair and making a few loose strands stick to my mouth.

Evan fishes inside his pocket and pulls out a couple of quarters. “Are you seriously going to make a wish? I’m pretty sure it’s not allowed.”

Tossing pennies into wishing wells was something Papa and I would do. He used to call me his lucky penny because of my middle name, Penelope. I think he did that because I hated my middle name. Aoife Penelope never sounded right to me, but Mama insisted on it when I was born because it was her middle name.

“Can I keep this one?” I ask, holding up the quarter that was minted the year I was born.

It’s nice being able to remember it now. December twenty-fifth. I’m a Christmas miracle—something else Papa used to call me.

Evan nods, and I drop it in the side mesh pocket of my backpack, then take the other quarter and cup it between my joined hands.

“Seeing this will buy us twenty-five wishes, make a wish with me.”

He side-eyes me when I twist around and hold my hands in front of his face.

“Now, close your eyes.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mutters, but does it anyway.

I close my eyes at the same time, my lips wordlessly moving as I say my wish. When we’re done, I drop the large silver coin. It hits the shallow pool of the fountain with a small splash and promptly sinks to the bottom.

“What did you wish for?” Evan asks.

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