Page 6

A couple of hours later, I was sitting at Tiffany's, one of my closest friends, ranting about my father while I put the finishing touches on my outfit and prepared to start my make-up. I didn't usually take her up on her offers to 'go out' because that meant a bar or a club, and most of the time, that wasn't my scene.

"And then! He said he was going to cut off my charities if I didn't move into the house with my would-be kidnapper and his flunkies!" I said, fiddling with the buckle on my heels angrily. "And do you know where he's making me move?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at me from the reflection in her mirror. "The old estate! My childhood home! We haven't evenset footon the property in six months, and now I'm just supposed to move back in and watch thesecreepsstomp all over my childhood memories with my mom." I took off my heel and threw it across the room. Why were the buckles on heels so tiny?!

"Well, why don't you just not do it?" Tiffany asked, turning around and digging through her closet for a different pair of shoes. Fortunately, we wore the same size, or I would have had to go all the way home to get ready. "Wear these; they'll be killer with that bodycon." She handed me a pair of knee-high boots with chunky heels that laced up the sides. "They have, like, a hidden zipper."

"Not do it? Tiff. Did you hear what I said? He's going tocut off my charitiesif I don't go. I donate, but not nearly as much as he does. They'll lose so much funding!" It was such a low blow. I couldn't believe he was bargaining with people's lives like that.

"But, maybe if they do, you could start one where you could, like, teach people to not be poor?" She stared at me, her greeneyes genuinely not understanding everything wrong with her statement. She'd come from money and hadn't been exposed to the world's problems beyond the sphere of the upper echelon. I shook my head at her and laughed. She might be somewhat shallow and lacking in worldly education, but she'd been there for me for years and had a kind heart.

"Okay, Regina George. It's a good thing you're cute, you vapid bitch." I slipped the boots on and admired the outfit in the mirror before I started my make-up.

"Listen! I would never. She wassucha bitch. I'm only, like, kind of a bitch. Now hurry up. I never get you out to the club, and I get there before the line wraps around the block!" I rolled my eyes and opted for a heavier look than usual. "I take it we're not worried about theBristol imagetonight, huh?" She made air quotes as she said 'Bristol image,' smirking.

"My father can take a long walk off a short pier tonight. The PR team will clean up whatever he pays them to, and I'm angry. Why not make sure he's getting his money's worth?"

The line for Temptat!on was moving quickly, but not as fast as people were getting in it. I was glad Tiffany had suggested we got there when we did, or we'd be much further back than we were. One of my rotating bodyguards, in place since the fire, had gone ahead to talk to the bouncer to see if he could get us off the street when my phone rang. Pulling it from my clutch, I looked down and sighed.

"So much for my night. Hello?" I snapped as I answered.

"My apologies for disturbing you, Ms. Bristol. Your father requested a car to escort you to your new accommodations." I groaned; it wasn't their fault my father was destroying the agency of my situation. They were just driving the car.

"I'll be waiting outside of Temptat!on, on Fifth. Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, Ms. Bristol. We're about five minutes away from you." They hung up, and I turned back to Tiffany, who was already pouting.

"Father summoned a car for me. Looks like I'm being picked up earlier than I expected. Raincheck?" I held my hands up in apology.

"Youcan notbe serious right now?! Ugh, your daddy is a massive dick. The driver will wait if you come in! Just come on, we're, like, right by the door!" She stomped her foot and switched on her baby face. I just shook my head.

"That's not fair to the driver. They have lives, too, you know. You stay in line, have a drink for me, and we'll make a night of it another time." I hugged her and waved down my bodyguard as I walked to the corner.

I leaned against the streetlight, ignoring the cat-calling from a few club bros in line, and scrolled on my phone while I waited. Fortunately, the wait wasn't long before one of my dad's Bentlys pulled into view. The shiny chrome 'B' hood ornament was a dead giveaway. My bodyguard opened the door for me and slid in beside me after I'd gotten in.

"Apologies for interrupting your night, ma'am. He said we should get you there as soon as possible." The driver said over his shoulder, genuinely sounding apologetic.

"It's fine. Let's just go."

The original Bristol Manor was located on the city's outskirts, and the sun was setting as we pulled up to the ornate gate at the property edge. The driver input the code, and the gates opened. I was washed with both a sense of nostalgia and longing. It was the first time I'd seen this place since my mother passed away. The grand white building, with its ornate details and elegant gardens, looked like it was right out of a painting in the setting sun.

As we came up the driveway, I looked out over the gardens. I was surprised to find that they were still impeccably kept and as breathtakingly beautiful as they'd been when Mom had been alive. I could almost hear her pointing out the different types of flowers and plants she'd hand-picked like she did when I was a little girl. The scent of roses in the air brought a tear to my eye.

Then I spotted the stone path I knew led to a lake and a walking bridge across it. I smiled, remembering how much trouble I'd gotten into when my father caught me sneaking out to drink with my friends on the bridge as a teenager. We rounded the fountain in the center of the roundabout of the drive. I could almost see my mom and me splashing in the shallow waters, and it took everything I had to blink back the tears.

"He is evil for this." I muttered to myself. Even my bodyguard gave me a look of pity as the car pulled to a stop.

I lifted my eyes to the front doors, adorned with beautifully polished brass knockers and flanked by intricate pillars, imagining the rooms of my childhood home.How could he?I stepped out as my driver opened the door, noting that my new bodyguards hadn't come out to meet me. As it stood, my current shadow opened the door as we went inside.

My heels clicked across the marble of the foyer, and I stopped to take in the room. The golden light from the setting sun spilled into the rooms from the massive windows and bathed everything in a serene glow. It was all at once alien and familiar to me.

"You suddenly hear a deep, rumbling growl that shakes the very ground beneath your feet. An adult green dragon emerges from the shadows, the emerald scales glistening in the dim light. You notice the thick, greenish clouds wisping from its nostrils. Alright, I need everyone to roll initiative."

I turned to my left, seeing five men around the dining table. They had tablets in front of them, and there were a few piles of dice lying around and a large map in the center with little figures on it. Several open pizza boxes were sitting at one end, and a couple of pistols were sitting casually beside the men at the table.

I recognized Az standing at the head of the table behind a screen with images of fantasy adventurers on it. My eyes drank in how his white t-shirt hugged his body before noticing the leather shoulder holster. As if sensing my gaze, his blue eyes flicked toward me; a flash of anger and heat passed across his face, but he didn't acknowledge me. Instead, he flicked his gaze back down to his group.

They were in the process of rolling dice. One of them hit the table with a frustrated groan. He looked to be in his early thirties with slightly curly brown hair that was longer on top, faded on the sides, and deep brown eyes. His arms were heavily tattooed, and I could even see his ink beneath the white t-shirt that strained against his muscular torso. Nose and ear piercings added to his edgy look.

"Twenty? Twenty-five?" Az asked the group. Silence answered. "Fifteen, twenty?" Nothing. "Seriously guys? Ten, fifteen?"