“You look happy.”
The accusation rumbled past Andras’ lips as we danced on the piste. I could practically hear him glower.
His joints cracked like twigs beneath a boot. He was aggravating me, constantly beating at my sword, trying to push me into defensive mode.
I refused to cower.
My eyes crinkled behind my mask. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I lunged forward, catching his shoulder.
“Very good, Fae. So, tell me, why are you happy?”
Maybe because I barely spent time at that godforsaken house anymore. The idea that it would rot and deteriorate—like the people inside it—no longer bothered me.
Dad wouldn’t want me to suffer to preserve a house on its last legs.
Or maybe because Zach never commented when I intruded into his domain. I’d taken a liking to napping in one of his guest rooms whenever I felt like it.
Spending time in his territory—even when he wasn’t there—made me feel safe. For the first time, I understood why people settled down. Put their faith in other humans and latched on tight.
That sense of security did wonders to the body.
Even my advances on the piste felt lighter.
Or maybe because the two-week mark was just around the corner, and that meant my first paycheck. I planned on cashing that in by asking Zach for the name of a good lawyer.
No point in keeping the good news all to myself.
I panted, twisting in place to avoid his attack. “I’m finally getting a lawyer to fight Vera.”
“Posture. Extend.” He corrected me, swatting my arm with his sword. While I adjusted, he pulled his mask up his forehead, even though we were mid-match. His face appeared before me, inked with confusion. “Where did you get the money?”
I straightened, sliding up from my lunge. “My new boss and I have… an arrangement.”
“Remek. You have a new job.” He yanked the mask completely off his head. “Who is the lucky boss?”
He didn’t smile, nor congratulate me.
Dread trickled into my gut. But I refused to let his lukewarm reaction get to me. He knew how desperately I wanted to contest the will.
This man cared for me. Wanted me to fulfill my dreams. Helped me reach them, even when I could no longer pay him for his time.
“Zachary Sun.”
Andras whistled low, giving me his back as he strode off the piste. “The billionaire with all the blind dates?”
I frowned. “Among other things.”
“Wonder why he’s willing to fund this little project of yours.”
So, I guess we finished practicing for today?
I dumped my mask on the sidelines, unclipping my fencing suit from the wire I was attached to with more force than necessary. It snapped back into place.
Slinging my sword carrier over my shoulder, I jogged behind Andras. “Hey, what are you insinuating? I’m just his housekeeper.”
Although, by now, I had a good idea why Zach had hired me. He’d said so out loud. He wanted me to cure him of his revulsion to humans.
If we were to fall into bed, however, it would be completely consensual and have nothing to do with his wallet.
It didn’t hurt that, lately, I felt seen around him. Protected and adored under the intensity of his persistent gaze.
Did I think the attention would last? Absolutely not.
The man had spent his entire adult life laser-focused on hostile takeovers, jumping from company to company. He could pivot in a blink.
So what?
Why shouldn’t I get to experience hot sex with a handsome man?
My life didn’t have to revolve around practice and work. I didn’t have a boyfriend. His mom still had his face plastered to the walls of every elite dating agency east of the Mississippi.
Nothing would change for me except the occasional chance to unwind and earn karma points for performing a charitable act for someone who clearly needed it.
Andras punched the silver button, forcing the doors open. We treaded the country club’s wide corridor, passing members in tennis and basketball gear.
The golf course stretched from window to window like a green fitted sheet, pressed against artificial mounds and peppered by flags.
“I am not insinuating anything.” He softened his voice. “I am just worried your head is not in the right place.”
My shoulders slumped.
I needed to stop assuming the worst about people. I’d forgotten his one-track mind. Andras wanted me to focus on my craft. It was all we ever spoke about.
He stopped in front of the men’s lockers, turning to face me. “If you contest the will, you would put all your time, effort, and money into it, and you are already spreading yourself thin. You need to be focused.” A frown deepened the wrinkles around his cheeks. “What is so hard about moving on?”
I twisted my fingers together, ping-ponging my weight from foot to foot. “It’s not fair that she got half the company.”
Andras rolled his eyes. “It is just a cleaning company. Open another one.”
“It’s not just a cleaning company. It’s Dad’s legacy. We made that name together. We chose the logo, the products, the services. We had plans, and they’re gone.” I tossed my hands up, heat creeping into my neck the more worked up I got. “And the keepsakes. She sold them all. I want them back.”
Dad always said—Memories are a second heart. After you’re gone, they beat inside the people you’ve left behind.
That woman sold Dad’s second heart.
I wanted it back.
“They are gone.” Andras shook his head. “The jewelry. The art. They could be in Siberia for all we know. Even if you were to track them down, you would never be able to afford them.”
He was right.
And still, I couldn’t let it go.
I wanted to fight Vera with everything I had left in me, even if it wasn’t much. Out of spite. Out of justice. Out of vengeance.
Out of pain.
Twenty-two years of abuse from the moment I’d landed on their steps as a newborn. Twenty-two years of fending off schemes to kick me out of the house.
If I let those twenty-two years go unanswered, would I still be a human or a doormat?
That’s my girl. Dad’s voice came to me like a sudden storm. I wanted to weep at the sound of it. Stand up for yourself. Even against those you love. If you find yourself alone, they never truly loved you back.
“It’s not his real will,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “That’s the main reason I want to contest it. She tainted his inheritance and robbed him of his last wishes.”
He clutched his head like he thought it would explode. “What are you talking about?”
“She drafted this thing herself.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know my dad. That is not his will. I know it in my heart. In my bones.”
The will read at his will reading referred to his art collection as miscellaneous items. Items to be sold at auction with full profits handed over to Vera Ballantine.
The painting Dad swore he’d never sell, even if the President himself got on his hands and knees to beg.
The zany nose sculpture he’d insisted he’d start World War III over, since it reminded him of the one he’d passed down to me.
And the pendant he promised he’d give me at my wedding after walking me down the aisle.
I didn’t simply not believe the will. I refused to believe it, because if I did, it meant every promise Dad made me was a lie.
And my father was not a liar.
“What does it matter?” Andras flung his arms in the air. “It’s done. It’s been almost two years. Focus on what you can change.”
“I can change this.” I balled my fists at my sides. “I don’t have to lie down and take it.”
“If you spend time with this Mr. Sun, lying down and taking it will become your main position, te bolond,” he snarled, unzipping his fencing suit.
Whoa.
Hold up. Abort. Rewind. Pause the television.
Andras had basically just called me a slut.
For starters—a slut is just a woman who knows that she’s allowed to do anything a man is. And secondly—I didn’t need to take this.
I straightened, speaking as slow as possible, making sure my words absorbed into his skull. “What you just said isn’t okay. At all.”
“What I just said is the truth.”
I’d never seen him so animated before. It wasn’t jealousy. Andras never cared about anything but fencing. And even then, he prioritized me.
Since I’d returned from Seoul, ruined and disgraced, he’d stitched together the pieces for me, doing so much behind the scenes that I knew I’d never understand the full scope of his efforts.
But he sucked with words, and some things were unacceptable to say.
I crossed my arms. “I’d like an apology.”
It didn’t matter that I considered Andras a second father. Or that his words probably came out of concern.
“Do you not hear the rumors?” He doubled down, gesturing in the direction of the throngs of wealthy members on the other side of the wall. “Zachary Sun and his friends only know how to take, use, and abuse. He is a playboy. He will never take you seriously. He can help you with something now, then stop when he tires of you.”
He was right.
Zach said so himself.
I was a Band-Aid. A cure. An antidote.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
A means to an end.
I tilted my chin up. “I’m a big girl.”
“Ah, but you are still a girl.” Andras tapped my nose, peering down at me. “Do yourself a favor and listen to a grown-up for once in your life. That thing with your stepmother should be buried right along with your late father. He would want you to get along with her, Fae. He would want you to start fresh. Choose peace, not war.”
I wasn’t the one who chose the war.
I was dragged into it, kicking and screaming.
I shook my head. My next class with Zach started in ten minutes. I wondered if he’d even show up, everything considered.
“I need to go.” I tightened the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m going for it.”
I twisted on my heel, marching to the women’s locker room. As soon as I elbowed past the door, I collapsed onto a desolate bench and buried my face in my hands.
It’s fine.
You’re fine.
Zach Sun is your ticket to redemption, and you’ve never shied away from one-night stands.
This isn’t dirty. It isn’t wrong. And this won’t end with your heart splattered on the piste, a sabre speared through it.
That was the thing about growing up in an environment absent of human affection. I found it in any place I could—including, and especially, in one-night stands.
Growing up, Dad delivered scraps of love in titrated doses in hopes they’d go unnoticed by the other three Ballantine women.
He did his best to keep the peace, hoping to raise all three of his daughters in harmony. And he did consider Tabby and Reggie his daughters, equal in value to me, even if they didn’t share a drop of his blood.
They just refused to see it.
And I? I had no problem warming my heart with cardio and the musky sheets of a man.
In fact, I’d long suspected I had the exact opposite problem that Zach did. I craved the feel of another person’s skin on mine. Took my pleasure in hookups and didn’t look back.
Relationships were high-stakes. Risky.
Sex was simple. Instant gratification.
And Zach was a god among men. I was at no risk of falling in love with the broody, patronizing billionaire sitting atop an ivory tower.
I produced my phone from my duffel bag, skimming through my best friend’s texts.
Ari:
I can’t believe we won’t celebrate your birthday together.
Farrow:
Me, either.
Farrow:
You’re my favorite person in the whole world right now.
Farrow:
(Not to sound like a stage-five clinger or anything.)
Ari:
More than Keanu Reeves?
Farrow:
Yes.
Ari:
More than Taylor Swift?
Farrow:
Yes.
Ari:
More than Madonna?
Farrow:
Hey, don’t push it.
She’s the queen of pop.
Ari:
Merp.
Farrow:
Well, gotta go have a sword fight with the guy I’m masturbating to on the reg.
Farrow:
Talk later.
Ari:
Way to make me feel like a loser.
Ari:
The highlight of my day was getting my nails done.
Ari:
P.S. When was the last time you got laid? Maybe trade in the sword for his, ya know, sword.
