Not that it matters.
“Hello, astéri mou. It’s been a while.” The familiar voice turns my blood cold, and I stiffen in my seat. “Do you mind if I sit with you? I don’t know anyone else, and you know the rule about showing a transferring heir a warm welcome. I need someone to introduce me during the ceremony, and I’d rather it be you. I’ve missed you.”
My heart pounds as a dozen memories cross my mind. I can’t believe it. Christos is here. He’s really fucking here. I haven’t spoken to him since our initiations, and I thought I’d never have to deal with him again. He’s reached out a ton of times over the years, but I’ve always denied his calls after what happened between us. I was hoping I could forget it. Treat it as if our year of dating was nothing but a nightmare.
“We have a lot of catching up to do, now that I’m in town, astéri mou.” Christos hums under his breath, gliding his hand over my knee. His use of the nickname he’d given me, my star, ignites something warm inside me. It feels as if no time has passed at all.
A part of me wants to lean toward him. To rest my hand on top of his and remember what it was like to be touched by my first love and first heartbreak. But I know better. I can’t open myself up to him. The warmth turns into blistering fire.
I smack his hand and stand up, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you kidding me? I don’t want anything to do with you, Christos.”
“Careful, Stacia. You know it’s against the rules to speak my name. I could reprimand you right here for it.” Christos gets to his feet, towering over me.
“You can try, but you just broke the same damn rule.” I shift on my feet, peering around for Bianca. She can intervene. She can be the one to welcome Christos.
But the lights go off, and Juan sets the candles ablaze.
Fuck my life.
I can’t even run. I can’t hide.
I’m at Christos’ mercy, and once again he manipulated me for his gain.
With Christos, I always lose.
“Astéri mou, please. It’s one night.” Christos grabs my hand, sliding his fingers through mine. “I want a second chance.”
“Then don’t make me do this.” My chest clenches with my softening voice. “Pick someone else.”
His brown eyes flicker, the candlelight dancing in his gaze. “I can’t, Stacia. It has to be you. It’s always been you.”
2
White Queen’s Kiss
Somethingaslittleasa kiss shouldn’t be the cause of my undoing.
I stumble to my seat and plop down, my knees weak from my swelling emotions. The Welcome Ceremony has been a tradition at the Looking Glass chapter since it was founded in 1921 with the founding of Dodgson Carroll University and the rise of Hollywood a decade before. Alice Steinbeck, nicknamed Princess Lily by Gene St. Germaine, my great-great-grandfather and the founder of the Looking Glass chapter. Princess Lily was the first woman and starlet to be initiated into the chapter, and she always welcomed the new heirs—both gentlemen and ladies alike—with what was coined the White Queen’s Kiss. It’s been a tradition carried on but with a twist since she passed away in the 1960s.
And now, here I am, handpicked by the man I despise the most in the world, to kiss him and offer my services, which means I can’t escape him for weeks. He’s allowed to shadow me, call upon me, and basically own me for the entire night.
Something that makes me cringe even thinking about. I loved this man, and he destroyed me. He destroyed us. He’ll use this against me.
The thought of kissing him cuts open the scars he left behind, turning them into fresh wounds.
I pull at my robe, the fabric feeling constrictive. “I hate you,” I mutter, my voice cracking. “I fucking hate you.”
“I want to fix things. I’ve changed. I’m not the same man.” Christos towers over me, his gaze burning my skin, though I refuse to look.
Since he asked me to be his companion for the meeting, and I failed to immediately find someone else to play the role in his Welcome Ceremony, I’m stuck. He obviously planned this. I know he did. I wonder how long he’s been in town. I have so many questions that I don’t want to ask, because I need to shut down and murder whatever it is he’s trying to do.
“Astéri mou, come on. It’s only a kiss.” The nickname, which means my star, prods at my heart. He had given it to me when we met on Spring Break in Greece during college. Christos made it so easy falling in love with him, his charm just as lethal as he is and even more destructive.
“We can’t break tradition. It’ll feel utterly wrong to do it with anyone else. Please, join me at the center. Everyone’s watching.” Motioning toward the altar, Christos points to Bianca waving at us with a hooded and masked figure by her side. It must be the other heir William talked about. I’m sure Juan asked her to do the same thing.
Sliding his fingers through mine, Christos tugs me to my feet, taking advantage of the paralyzing emotional whirlwind spinning through my mind. The double doors to the King’s chambers open, revealing Daddy in his decorative mask and robe, the design made to show off his superiority. He doesn’t say anything as he strides into the meeting room. Talon follows behind him, carrying a wooden chest with the dagger used to blend blood between His Majesty and the new heirs.
Our eyes lock from across the room for a split second. Even with my masquerade mask, I’m sure my emotions show clearly with my uncontrollable pout. He’s always been ultra-aware of my feelings, considering our attraction and constant flirting, pushing the boundaries of our friendship.