Our usual routine resumes the next morning: Delphine wakes me up, I plod downstairs, Maxx makes breakfast. But this time, Chasm gets to chill at the table while Parrish gets dressed in his uniform and I find myself a cute little skater dress that has all three guys gaping openly.

Kimber notices, I know she does, and throws me this look that promises she and I are not done—not even if Parrish is home yet. It’s annoying, and quite regressive, but I’ll deal with her later. For now, I’m focused on making this shopping trip with Tess an enjoyable one.

“Let’s speed things up or you’ll be late,” Tess says, frantically sipping her flat white as her phone buzzes and she glances at the screen. “Looks like we’re getting a delivery. It better be my new typewriter.” She says this absently, but the boys and I all go completely still and exchange knowing looks.

Fuck.

That move is going to haunt me for some time which, I know, is sort of Justin’s point.

What I’m worried about is what the next phase of this nightmare will be. Is Maxine going to suffer like Parrish did? What am I going to have to do to get her back? My first tasks were alienating but menial; the next set of tasks were gut-wrenching and heartbreaking.

Now that exams are over, we’re ready to move into the next phase of this bullshit, and I have a bad feeling that it’s going to make everything that came before it look like cakewalk.

“Dakota, can you get the door?” Tess asks as Kimber tries to get her attention, something about a friend’s sleepover, I think. She’s being told a hard no which doesn’t surprise me one bit.

“Sure.” I stand up and walk over to the door in my mismatched Chucks, checking out the window to confirm it’s the delivery guy and not a crazy reporter. It is, thank god. The paparazzi situation has reached nightmare proportions. I open the door and my smile slips slightly as the delivery guy checks the names on the packages and looks up at me.

“Dakota Prior?” he asks, and that’s when I just know I’m going to hate whatever is inside of them.

“That’s … me,” I reply, trying to keep the frustration from my voice. Justin will be watching me right now, no doubts about that. I sign the delivery dude’s iPad and then accept a mountain of fancy boxes not unlike the other mountain of fancy boxes I just received for the launch party.

I consider making a run for my room in an attempt to hide the packages from Tess, but it’s too late. She’s spotted me.

“What’s all that?” she asks with a frown as I turn toward her, and she steps forward to take some of the packages from me. She leads the way into the kitchen and sets them on the counter, picking one of the boxes up and staring at the name on the shipping label. “Dakota Prior?”

Her voice is wicked cold as she flicks a look my way.

“No clue,” I respond honestly as Kimber and all three guys make their way over to see what’s going on.

“These are from Justin?” Maxx confirms dryly, and I nod, my chest tight, my heart thumping.

I take the largest box first and lift the lid off, setting it aside. There’s a small pink envelope nestled in the tissue paper that makes my pulse race as I pick it up and slide the tiny card out of it.

I’ve taken the liberty of sending everything you need for prom tonight. I know you’ve been busy with your studies and haven’t had the time to go shopping. But don’t worry: Daddy’s got your back. I’ve volunteered as a chaperone as well. See you tonight!

P.S. I have the girls coming over to do your hair and makeup again. Be ready for them by six.

My blood goes cold as I pass the card over to Tess’ outstretched hand.

“This son of a bitch,” she snarls, surprising every person in that kitchen at the same time. Her eyes lift up to mine. “Dakota, you don’t have to wear any of these things.” I just keep staring at her, once again feeling that awful, sickening sinking feeling take over me. Don’t I, though? I want to ask, wishing I could tell her the whole truth about Justin, tell her that she’s right, that even if he’s a hundred times more likable than she is, he’s fucking crazy. I asked him not to order me food at a restaurant, and that darkness lingering behind his casual affability rose to the surface like cream. “I can take you out, wherever you want to go. We have all day to shop and get ready for this.” She sets the card down as I unfold the pink tissue paper in the box, revealing a glittering golden gown.

The theme for Whitehall’s prom is—unsurprisingly—all that glitters is gold. According to the boys, last year’s was platinum party. The year before that? Diamonds in the rough. I mean, come on. Do these people care about anything other than money?

When I asked Chas why he allowed such an awful theme, his response was a caustic, “I’m the student body president, not the head of prom committee, naekkeo,” mumbled around a cigarette. But he was hot as hell when he said it, so there’s that.

I lift the dress up and Kimber gasps, putting her hand over her mouth.

“I saw that one online; that’s a seven-thousand-dollar dress.” She sounds envious right now which is ridiculous. I’m sure Paul has purchased her many a gown just like this one. Trust me: I’ve heard stories about Kimber’s closet. Never been allowed to see it since she has yet to let me in her room for even a second, but it’s legendary amongst the boys.

“Looks like you don’t have to go shopping after all. Lucky.” Parrish shrugs his shoulders, trying to make light of a situation that the four of us know is anything but. I don’t get to decide whether I wear this dress or not; I’m wearing it. Period. And Justin knows that.

Tess throws her son a harsh look as Chasm mumbles something in Korean that probably translates to: you are so fucked right now, Little Sister, and I’m sorry.

“Dakota,” Tess repeats, trying to draw my attention away from the dress. I wonder if she’s getting the wrong idea? If she thinks I like having all of my choices taken away and being told what to do. Sure, this time it’s a designer dress but before that, it was fuck this guy , or fuck that guy , or kill this rabbit . Just one more command in a long line of them. “I can’t stop Justin from chaperoning tonight, but I sure as hell can stop this. Let’s go out, just you and me, and we can find a dress that suits you. I won’t comment on it or pass judgment the way I did last time.”

I stare at the off-the shoulder tulle gown with its floral embroidery, its voluminous ball skirt, and all of that careful beading, and I want to scream.

We have Parrish back, but we’ve made zero progress with Justin.

Zero.

We only have Parrish back because he wanted me to find him. Because he was grooming me into a monster shaped after his own likeness. Fuck.

Tess continues talking, which only makes things worse.

“It doesn’t even have be an expensive dress. I only suggest things like that for you because I want you to be able to dress like the other girls, because you’re worth that. You deserve to have nice things.”

Ouch.

Tess just shot an emotional arrow straight through my heart.

“You deserve nice things, Mia.” Justin just said that to me the other day. And he meant it, too. So does Tess. I have two warring parents trying to show me how worth it I am, how I deserve to prosper and bloom, and yet neither of them gets it.

One of them is cold and standoffish while also being clingy and selfish and controlling.

The other murders people and bosses me around while smiling and laughing.

I have never missed my grandparents more than I do in that moment.

“Um, thank you,” I say, bringing the dress in close to my chest and clinging to it like it’s a lifeline. “But this is beautiful. I’d love to wear it to the dance tonight.” Lie. It tastes like ash on my tongue, gritty and awful, the taste of something that once was beautiful but is now nothing but dust.

Tess just stares at me, and even though she tries so damn hard to fight it, I can see it on her face all over again. Disappointment. Disappointment. Disappointment.

“Are you sure about this, Mia?” she asks, and I can’t decide if she’s just upset and that was an emotional slip of the tongue or if she’s taking her anger out on me.

“It’s Dakota,” Maxx corrects, but very gently. Tess ignores him.

“I’m sure,” I say, making myself smile and knowing that I probably look hideous. “I’m absolutely sure.”

Parrish and I exchange a look, but there’s nothing he can do to make Tess like me when I’m acting like a complete crazy person. The real Dakota feels like she’s slipping away like sand through my fingers. Do you know what she’d do in this situation? She’d take this dress and all of the fancy accoutrement that came with it, and she’d donate them to the women’s shelter. Then she’d go out shopping with Tess, buy a black dress with skulls on it, and then suffer through a luncheon with her mom and the stepbrother she’s in love with—all the while, she’d be smiling.

I guess in either scenario, the smile would be fake, but at least in the latter, I’d be making my own choices.

“Okay then,” Tess says woodenly, and then she turns to Parrish, softening slightly. “We need to go, or you’ll be late.”

She turns and heads for the garage as Kimber loses interest and drifts away, leaving me alone with the guys.

“What do you want to do about this?” Chas asks, tapping his fingers on the counter as I lay the dress back in the box.

“There’s nothing to be done,” I say, trying to fight back a surge of raw emotion. I was looking forward to going shopping with Tess, believe it or not. I truly feel like … we could have a relationship if we tried. If I could just be myself. If she could just learn to relax. But that isn’t what Justin wants—at least not yet. I won’t soon forget how he took note of the diamond tennis bracelet I wore in the limo that day. He cares about Tess in his own, strange obsessive way.

Eventually, something will happen to push us together.

I just don’t think either of us will like what that thing is.

“So … match your corsage to this dress?” Chasm continues, trying to make light of the situation. He and Parrish exchange a look, and I can’t help but wonder who, exactly, is supposed to be buying me a corsage.

Parrish grabs a plastic container and pops the top as Maxx steps closer and opens one with a pair of peep-toe gold pumps inside; they have crystals all over them and, of course, red soles. More Louboutins. Inside of Parrish’s container, there’s a series of boutonnieres. As in, the flowers girls buy for dudes to wear to prom on their suit jackets, on the same side as a pocket handkerchief.

There are three very pretty, very red roses.

“Yikes,” Maxx says, reaching out to take one and holding it in his hand. “Why three of them?” He pauses and gestures loosely at Parrish and Chasm. “I mean, I get the symbolism behind it, but I can’t go tonight—not even as a chaperone. I’ve got that dinner thing with my parents.”

“They’re being weird again?” Chasm confirms, and X nods.

“Yep. Disturbingly insistent.” He sighs and sets the flower down before glancing over at me. “I have a bad feeling about tonight,” he says, but I don’t need him to tell me that. We all know something’s going to happen and, whether big or small, it’s going to suck serious ass.

“I do, too,” Parrish agrees, swiping a hand down his face. “But this certainly looks like a very strong suggestion to attend. I don’t imagine Justin would appreciate us backing out now.”

I stare down at the designer boxes strewn across the counter, and I feel sick.

This is going to be bad. It is. I just know it.

The only thing I don’t know is how bad, exactly, it’s going to be.

The answer: monumental.

Laverne’s white limo makes a return visit to the house to pick us up that evening, after I’ve been coiffed and powdered and prettied to Justin’s standards, my green and black hair hanging over my shoulder in a braid woven with beaded gold leaves.

The shoes are adorable, the dress is stunning, but I’m not comfortable wearing any of it.

The phrase gilded cage comes to mind. This outfit, as expensive, as beautiful, as it is, is just that. A trap. A prison. A posh, Babylonian nightmare.

The only part of the outfit that I enjoy comes in the form of three gaping boys at the bottom of the stairs.

“Holy fuck,” Chasm murmurs as I pause on the staircase and smile down at them. “I know Justin sucks serious ass, but you’re goddamn stunning.”

Maxx is already late to dinner with his parents, but I know he wanted to see me all dressed up. He grins as I finish descending the stairs, looking me over with a shake of his head.

“Even though Lumen’s going to be crowned prom queen tonight, damn . There’s no doubt that you’re the one who deserves it. You look like …” He trails off, but that’s okay. I know what he was about to say, and I don’t mind.

“It only bothers me when Justin calls me a princess—you can say it.” I pause when I hit the first floor, my left hand still resting on the newel post, and glance over at Parrish.

He’s completely silent, affecting his apathetic sloth demeanor the best he can since Tess has just walked into the room, but he can’t hide the emotion in his eyes. That beautiful, brimming, overflowing well of emotion that he hides inside of himself and releases only for … me.

“You look … marginally better than normal,” he chokes out, and Tess gives him a sharp look.

“Don’t berate your sister,” she tells him, holding the box of boutonnieres in her hand. Paul waits just beside her, but his eyes aren’t on me. Instead, he looks at Parrish—and even Chasm—with pride. And, happily, he isn’t on his phone which is a damn blessing.

I take the boutonnieres—glad that Maxx took the third one and hid it in his pocket earlier—and study the boys I’m taking to prom.

Chasm is first, in his black-on-black-on-black tux, slacks, and tie. He’s in Seamus-approved mode tonight—unfortunately his dad is also chaperoning—but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. Actually, he looks like a CEO or something. There’s power in the way he stands, in the way his amber eyes take in a room. He’s too smart not to be dangerous.

I hook the red rose to his jacket first before turning to Parrish.

I’d wondered what he might look like all dressed up, and now I get to see it—even if I’m not allowed to appreciate him as openly as I might want to.

His suit and tie are in a muted charcoal color, his outfit as gray as Chasm’s attire is black. With them in their monochrome outfits, the red roses pop like crazy. That, and they’ll be beautiful accompaniments to the gold dress. I attach the second red rose to Parrish’s jacket next, trying to ignore the slight trembling in my hands, and resisting the urge to look up into the toasted coconut color of his eyes.

My only regret, again, is that Maxx isn’t coming with us. I’d have loved to see him in his James Bond outfit beside the other two.

“I have to go,” he says, his voice tinged with deep emotion. “My parents are already blowing up my phone. They asked me to stay the night with them at the cabin so … I’ll see you guys tomorrow? Well, two of you anyway. I know Dakota will be at Justin’s.” Maxx gives me one, last lingering look, and I know we’re both wishing we could kiss each other, that we could say goodbye in a more suitable way.

“See you on Monday?” I suggest, trying to keep my voice light, and he nods, offering up a little wave before slipping into the garage and closing the door behind him.

I turn back to the boys.

Chasm has a small plastic container under his right arm, and I see what they’ve decided upon for tonight: he’s going to be the one to give me the corsage. Seeing as he’s my boyfriend in Tess’ eyes and Parrish is, well, just my stepbrother, it makes sense.

It also bothers me.

I had three boutonnieres; I want three corsages.

Gamer Girl is thirsty AF, apparently.

I smile as Chas slips the cluster of red roses onto my wrist, meeting my eyes with his amber ones.

“I’ll admit, you two make a cute couple,” Tess says, sighing softly and holding out her hand. Paul passes over a phone, and she lifts it up in suggestion. “Pictures? A few with Dakota and Chasm, a few individual shots, and one of all three of you?”

“One of me and Dakota,” Parrish suggests, and Tess gives him an odd look. “And one of me and Chasm. Just to cover all of our bases.”

She blinks at him for a moment and then smiles.

“That sounds like a great plan.”

Tess guides us into position, directing us to pose for the camera, and takes about ten thousand photos before finally releasing us from the torture. I think, if things were normal, the three of us might have some fun playing with pictures and videos, selfies and TikToks. But not with Justin around. Not when the eye of every camera belongs to the Seattle Slayer.

“Okay. The three of you in the limo. I’ll be following behind, and when we get there, you can pretend that I don’t exist.” She waves her hand magnanimously, and Parrish cocks a brow.

“Don’t be weird in front of my classmates,” Parrish warns her, and she gives a soft smile in response.

“I won’t; I promise.” Tess turns to give Paul a look. “Kids in bed by ten, can you do that for me?”

“Of course,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to make hot cocoa and popcorn, and we’ll watch a family movie together.” He sighs and reaches up to adjust his glasses. “Whether Kimber likes it or not.” Paul glances our way and offers up a smile. “You three try to relax tonight. It’s important for kids your age to have some fun.”

“Will do,” Parrish says, but his voice is tentative, threaded through with tension. He knows as well as I do that relaxation isn’t exactly on the cards for any of us. Not anytime soon. Not until Maxine is safe, and the Slayer is neutralized, and … I can’t even think about that right now.

I have one goal tonight: attend prom.

Justin has made it more than clear that he intends for us to do exactly that.

The prom is being held in the ballroom of the same hotel where I had dinner with Justin that day.

Under ideal circumstances, I’d actually be thrilled to attend.

All that glitters is gold is right. The entire room is decked out in swaths of gold silk and champagne tulle with a massive chandelier that’s bigger than Tess’ car. There are round tables with candelabras glittering atop their rose-petal sprinkled surfaces. The students themselves add to the atmosphere, dressed up like movie stars with expensive ball gowns and high-end tuxes, perfect hair, stage makeup, and diamonds galore.

It’s a bit gauche, a lot luxurious, and completely over-the-top.

I wish I could enjoy it more than I am.

The kicker here is that everyone in that room has decided that Parrish, Chasm, and I are bad guys. I can feel it as soon as I walk into the room with one boy on either arm. We pause at the top of a large staircase, looking over the scintillating and highly venomous crowd of Whitehall Prep students.

“Princess,” a voice greets before I’ve even entered the fray. Justin glides over to us in a tailored tux, and Parrish’s eyes go wide. This is the first time he’s met his kidnapper/my bio dad/the Seattle Slayer in person. Nice to know the face that goes along with the guy who was plotting to kill you, eh? “I’m so happy you made it.”

As if I had a choice.

Chasm scowls as Parrish studies the man with open animosity, glancing over his shoulder as if to reassure himself that Tess isn’t standing anywhere near us. She’s close by, but not within hearing distance. Instead, she’s parked herself in a sea of coruscating trophy wives near the refreshments table at the top of the stairs. She glares at Justin as she nurses a glass of champagne—there’s a bar, but only for the chaperones—and he, of course, goes out of his way to pretend that she doesn’t exist.

“Thank you for the outfit,” I grind out between clenched teeth. It’s the only subtle way I can think of to voice my displeasure.

“You are so very welcome, sweetheart,” Justin purrs, reaching up to play with my braid. His eyes shift over to Parrish’s and his smile grows even larger. “And you. The miracle child. Returned safely to the arms of his adoring mother by God’s good grace—and of course, Milk Carton’s superb technological advances.”

“You’re Justin Prior,” Parrish says, but more to himself than any of us, just to confirm that this is, in fact, the man to whom he should be directing all of his animosity. “I hope you know that if I get the chance, I’m going to kill you.”

Justin throws his head back in raucous laughter, bright blue eyes glittering as he lowers his gaze back to his kidnappee.

“Oh, I absolutely invite you to try, son. It would be a fantastic test of skill for both of us. You’d lose, of course, but I wouldn’t kill you. I promised Dakota that I would not, and my word is sacred.” Justin grins sharply, his teeth gleaming in the light of the chandelier. “But I would hurt you. Oh, and I’d love it, too. Part of me considered killing you in the beginning, just to piss old Paulie off, but what fun would that be?”

“You’re fucking sick,” Parrish snarls at him, but I can’t let the two of them start a fight. Not here. Not anywhere. Justin has too many lackeys, too much money, too much power. If we’re going to launch a direct attack on him, it has to be subtle, quick, and final.

“Excuse us,” I say, affecting the prettiest smile that I can manage. “But we’d rather spend our time together than with our parents. It is prom, after all.”

“Of course, my darling,” Justin oozes, reaching out to pat me on the head in the most patronizing way possible. “I’ll be over here, gossiping with Seamus. If you need me, just holler.” He winks before gliding off, and I yank on the boys’ arms to get them to move.

“Goddamn it, I hate that man,” Chasm murmurs, and Parrish grunts his agreement.

“He’s even more terrifying in person than I expected,” he adds, glancing back just once in Justin’s direction before shivering.

We hit the bottom of the stairs and the crowd of students parts like a wave, moving aside to make room for us. I’d be impressed if I didn’t think they were moving not out of respect, but hatred. Disdain. Old family grudges. Blackmail. That is, not for any good reason.

“Looks like we’re all social pariahs now,” Chasm comments, taking note of the faces around us. I imagine this wasn’t what he expected when he invited me to prom originally.

“I don’t give a shit.” Parrish turns his glare on the students closest to us and they back up even further. “As long as they leave us alone.”

I spot Lumen and Danyella in the crowd, but I don’t approach them, not this time.

I do, however, spot both of them looking our way every now and again. I try to take that as a positive sign.

Veronica and her cronies are clustered up on one side of the room with a group of boys that I assume must include Chasm’s attackers—Gavin and Antonio, among others. I don’t know any of them. I never got to know any of the boys at school but for the two on my arms, and now that they’ve kicked my crush’s ass, I don’t think I’d like to.

“Well,” Parrish says, as the three of us find ourselves alone in the middle of the ballroom. He meets my eyes, and a thrill travels through me, bringing goose bumps up on my arms and legs. “We’ve got the dance floor to ourselves. We might as well?” He glances back toward Tess. She’s still at the top of the stairs, watching us.

“Do you think it’s safe for us to dance?” I ask him, turning my attention away from Tess and back to him. My handsome prince of sloths. My stolen crush. My … stepbrother.

“I don’t care if it is or not,” he tells me, lifting his chin as Chasm releases my arm and crosses his over his chest. “We’re telling Tess next week. I don’t care what day: you can pick. But she needs to know. I can’t hide this any longer.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Chasm murmurs, and then he adds something in Korean that Parrish immediately responds to. I watch them go through an entire conversation before Chas just throws his hands up in surrender. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He puts a hand on my arm, his fingertips teasing my skin with pleasant warmth. All my cuts are covered with expertly applied latex—in the same way that Chasm covers his lip piercings. Thanks to Justin’s team of beauty experts, I can wear this dress without Tess being the wiser.

The man is a genius at subterfuge and illusions, isn’t he?

“I’ll dance with you next, naekkeo, ” Chas promises, and then he takes off to wait at the edge of the crowd.

I notice that, even as Parrish puts one hand on the curve of my waist and enfolds my other hand with his own, he keeps his eye on Chasm.

A new song starts up as our eyes meet and then, like Belle in her gold dress at the ball with the Beast, he begins a waltz that makes me feel like a goddamn Disney princess. Even though I can’t dance, even though I’m nowhere near as refined as Parrish Vanguard, he turns my clumsy gamer ass into a graceful swan. I don’t know how. Maybe it’s just because we’re so in tune, and I’m mirroring his every movement, following his every step.

Even though we both know we shouldn’t dance together for more than a song or two, it bleeds into three and four and five, until we’re leaning in too close, and his breath is stirring my hair while mine feathers against the side of his neck.

“Fuck, see what I mean?” he grinds out after the next song ends. Still, he doesn’t release me, even as Chasm comes up to stand beside us again, clearly waiting for his turn. “This is why I can’t keep hiding this.”

“Dude, Tess is staring at the pair of you. We need to switch: now. ”

Parrish hazards a glance toward his mom, curses, and then reluctantly relinquishes his hold on me. It’s like the entire world goes ice-cold for a minute. But then Chasm is stepping forward and taking over Parrish’s place, and I’m melting all over again, but in an entirely different way.

Dancing with Parrish is like dancing with a prince; dancing with Chasm is like accepting the dark knight into your heart, your bed, your soul. His gaze is intense as he sweeps me up against him, far bolder than Parrish was allowed to be. His hand drifts down toward my ass, stopping just short of inappropriate as he carries me across the dance floor.

We follow the same routine, allowing one song to bleed into another, until all I can see is Chasm’s handsome face against the glimmering beauty of Medina’s poisonous youth.

As soon as that song ends, the lights above us dim, and the music switches gears. Rather than classical music—which, if you think about it, is just weird for a high school prom—the DJ begins to play modern hits, and the grinding starts. The chaperones do their best to stop it, but the room begins to fill with gold-colored smoke as confetti flutters down from the ceiling along with a mess of gold and white balloons.

The boys and I excuse ourselves to the edges of the crowd only to run right into Tess.

“I need to speak to the two of you,” she says, pointing at me and Parrish. The expression on her face scares the shit out of me, but what can I do? Say no to her? “Chasm, if you’ll give us a minute, please.”

Tess turns and walks away as Parrish and I exchange a look.

“I’ll follow at a distance,” Chas says, but he sounds resigned. “She knows, man. I can tell.”

Parrish locks his expression into one of determination, hooking his arm with mine and and dragging me along beside him. We follow Tess into a sheltered alcove near the bathrooms and pause as she turns around to face us, her eyes flicking to the side where Chasm waits, giving us just enough space to talk privately.

“I’m going to ask this question once and only once, but I want an honest answer.”

The strange fear in Tess’ voice scares the shit out of me, but what can I do at this point? I don’t want to hide my love for Parrish anymore than he wants to hide his for me.

“Shoot,” Parrish says, nodding his head.

Tess looks him in the eyes first, and then me.

“Are the two of you dating behind my back?”

The question hangs in the air like that gold smoke that covers the dance floor, but neither of us gets a chance to answer it. Tess’ phone buzzes and she digs it out of her clutch to glance at the screen, a frown appearing on her lips.

She holds up a single finger as Parrish and I exchange a look.

“Hello?” Tess asks, and then her eyes get wide. At about the same time, Chasm sneaks forward with a similarly matched frown on his own face.

“You guys …” he starts, showing us the text on his phone.

It’s from Laurent, one of Maxx’s dads.

Do you know where Maxim is? He came for dinner and was supposed to stay, but he isn’t in the guest room. It’s like he just up and left without telling us.

My eyes meet Parrish’s as icy terror creeps into my veins. I can’t do this again. I can’t deal with Maxine being in danger at the same time as X. And I most certainly can’t do it after getting Parrish back after so damn long.

“Oh my god.” Tess clamps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror as she looks over at the three of us. “The house is on fire!”

She takes her phone with her and starts running. The boys and I pause just long enough to exchange a shared look before I gather my skirts and take off after her, Parrish and Chasm just behind me.

I don’t know exactly what any of this means, but what I do know is this: Justin is smiling at us as we race up the stairs and sweep past him, heading for the gravel parking lot out front of the hotel.

The way he’s looking at me, I can tell that none of this was accidental.

Oh no, Justin Prior has plans for me. His Payback Princess. His obsession.

And the only way I’m going to be able to get out of it is to kill him.

Ironically, I’ll have to let the Seattle Slayer turn me into the very monster he so desperately wants to create in order to destroy him.

To save myself and everyone I love, I’ll have to get comfortable with the idea of blood on my hands.

Because love, as we all know so well, is a double-edged motherfucking sword.

To Be Continued …