The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(50)

Many, many hands.

"Welcome," Windsor says, appearing beside me, that special glint in his eyes that scared me from moment one. From the very first second he met the Bluebloods of Burberry Preparatory Academy, he was ready to thrown down. Looking at him now, I see that same focused energy that reminds me of a wolf on the prowl.

Windsor York is looking for prey.

"We hope you enjoy Marnye's party," he continues, grinning as Harper gives him a strange look. She knows something's up, but she also knows that if she doesn't make an appearance here, she's done for. Ileana and Becky exchange looks behind her, but they don't say anything before they move off to get drinks.

The other ex-Bluebloods—I've just started calling them the Company in my head because, like, Harper and Company makes sense to me—have already filtered into the crowd and disappeared.

My stomach twists as I see Kiara Xiao glaring at me, her angel costume leaning a bit more toward the devilish side, if you catch my drift. I'm not slut-shaming or anything, I'm just saying I don't think angels wear tiny white bikinis and cowboy boots.

"Hey," Windsor says, reaching up to brush his thumb across my lips. "Don't let them get to you."

"If you're being so chummy with them," I yell over the music, "then I'm worried because you've got something planned." He cuts me off with a kiss, and I'm so surprised that I let him take me into his arms. Kissing Windsor is … it's surreal. We were friends for an entire year, and now … The moment I saw him though, I was attracted to him. He knows it; I know it. And yet, all I can think about are his previous invitations. It'll be fun, but it won't last long. Why would he say that? Is that what he's still thinking?

And yet, I move back, taking Windsor with me until we're pushed against a wall.

He puts his palms on either side of me and pulls back just enough to grin.

The Backstreet Boys' Everybody (Backstreet's Back) music video is playing on the giant screen behind Windsor, the Halloween theme oh-so-appropriate for the occasion. I'm not really looking at it, though. No, I'm looking at a prince, and his dilated pupils, and the slight sheen of moisture on his lower lip from kissing me.

"You worry too much, milady. Relax. I planned this all for you."

He kisses me again, and my heart tumbles inside my chest. It was a like a dream when he waltzed into the academy, declared me the most beautiful girl in school, and took up my mantle of revenge as his own. But there are two sides to every coin, and I'm wondering what's going to happen when Windsor's flips.



Later, when most of the partygoers are drunk, I'm sitting with Zayd and Creed in one of the game rooms, playing a round of poker. The stakes this time are pretty small comparatively. Whichever guy wins gets to take me on a date next weekend (which makes me nervous as hell). But if I win, I get to take them both. Pretty sure that this is a win-win-win scenario for me, and I'm okay with that.

After a while, I start to notice that the room is emptying out.

That's what makes me nervous.

Once our game finishes—I win, boys, sorry—I head out into the main hall and find Harper screaming in Tristan's face.

"Where the fuck are my friends, you psycho?" she shouts, and someone turns the music down. Tristan simply stands there with his fingers in his pockets. Lizzie's on one side of him, and Windsor's on the other.

Creed and Zayd exchange a look.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask them, spinning around and feeling this strange tightness in my throat. Obviously, I want my revenge. I just don't want things to get as dark as they did on the lake.

"We have to make a stand to protect you," Zayd explains, voice soft. "But we don't want you to have to dig so deep. This is Club business, and you shouldn't have to get involved."

I turn back around as Zack unlocks the door on the opposite side of the entryway.

The Company stumbles out, cursing and shouting. Every single one of them was in there, other than Harper.

And … they're all bald.

Like totally and completely bald.

My mouth drops open and I clamp both hands over my mouth. Harper sees them all and shrieks one of her pterodactyl shrieks. That's before Tristan and Windsor grab her by the arms and push her down into one of the chairs. Lizzie steps up with a buzzer in hand while Harper screams.

Several of Harper's cronies rush forward to help, but Zayd, Creed, Zack, Myron, and even Andrew step in to hold them back. The Plebs are eating this drama up with a spoon, and I notice not a single one of them steps in to help or hurt the situation.

"Miranda," I whisper as she grabs my arm, eyes wide. She glances over at me, but I can see she knows about as well as I do what's going on here.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Harper screams as Lizzie buzzes her hair clean off her head. Sheets of shiny, beautiful extensions falling into her pleather-clad lap. "I'm going to send a hitman after your shared whore!"

I don't react to that. In the past, I might've cringed, or felt ashamed, or … something. Tonight, I … I'm not sure what I feel. I move up to stand in front of her, waiting as Lizzie finishes her gruesome chore and steps back, turning off the buzzer.

Harper's so mad that she's spitting.

If she hadn't tried to kill me—or wasn't threatening to kill me now—I might feel sorry for her. I'm a little pissed at the guys for not telling me their plan though.