Page 11

Angelique

“ I ’m so embarrassed,” I groan, tugging the drawstrings of my hoodie until the fabric bunches around my face like a makeshift mask. Slumping into the passenger seat of Lando’s Audi, I curl toward the window, wishing I could disappear into the doorframe.

My first day at Imperium is over—a miracle in itself—but all I can think about is the lunch break.

More specifically, Reign, and the stupid, humiliating thing I said, and the look on his face after.

It’s been hours, but the mortification still clings to my skin like sweat.

I said he was nothing to me, as if we hadn’t been teetering on the precipice of love before I moved away.

What was going through his mind after he heard me?

Lando chuckles, his voice light as he shifts the car into reverse and backs out of the lot. “Babe, it’s been hours . Reign probably doesn’t even remember.”

“I wish I could forget,” I mumble, letting my head thump gently against the cool glass.

As we drive up the estate driveway moments later, I nearly grab the wheel and turn us right back around after I spot Reign sitting just outside the guesthouse, a cigarette burning between his fingers, one elbow resting on his knee.

He looks up locking eyes with me, and I make a strangled noise, something between a gasp and a whimper, before dropping to the floor of the car.

“Oh my God . Turn around,” I beg, panicking. “Turn around.”

Lando snorts. “I hate to break it to you, but he definitely saw you.”

“Take me back to the airport.”

He laughs like I’m kidding, but I’m not. “And where would you even go?”

“I don’t know. Canada, maybe?” I peek up at him from behind my hands, face burning.

Lando barks out a laugh. “And do what? Hide in an igloo?”

“I’ll live in the forest, befriend the wildlife, build a cottage, be one with the trees.”

“Okay, Snow White,” he deadpans. “Except instead of dwarves, you’ll have bears.”

“Better than facing your brother . ”

Lando parks the car and steps out, circling around to open my door. “Alright, princess. Time to face the big bad wolf.”

I step out with reluctance, still wrapped in my hoodie. “That’s Red Riding Hood, not Snow White,” I correct, but my breath is siphoned right out of my lungs when I come face to face with Reign.

He raises a brow while looking between Lando and me. “Sounds like I interrupted an intriguing conversation.”

He brings the cigarette to his lips, taking one last pull before dropping it to the ground and putting it out with his boot .

“When did you start smoking?” Lando asks, his brows knitted together.

Reign shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” Lando says, but his face says differently.

Reign turns to look at me and my face burns hotter as I hold his gaze, noticing the subtle way one corner of his mouth tips up in an amused smirk. I feel my nipples pebble under the soft cotton of my hoodie, and I thank six a.m. me for deciding to wear a hoodie today.

Oh, for fucks sake, Angelique. Start moving!

I give him a nervous smile. “I’ll, um…get going.”

I slip past him, trying not to brush his arm, but I can feel his eyes on my back as I walk down the path to the guesthouse, and when I look back, both him and Lando are following me. He’s watching me with that same smirk, but Lando is watching him with a confused expression.

They’re just walking you to the house, I think to myself, facing forward again. Stop overthinking it.

I dig through my bag for the key as I reach the front door, but before I can fish it out, a large hand reaches around me. Reign turns the knob and pushes the door open.

“I thought I locked it,” I murmur, stepping inside with a frown.

“You did,” he says casually, following me in.

Lando halts in the doorway, his voice snapping. “Okay. What the hell is going on here?”

Reign walks to the kitchen, calm as ever, and pours himself a glass of water. “I moved in.”

My heart skips. “What?”

All the blood rushes from my body, my fingers beginning to tingle as I whip my head toward the second bedroom. I speed walk to the door and swing it open only to find that his belongings are in fact there.

He’s not lying.

“Reign,” Lando says, his tone a warning as he turns away from my shocked expression to glare at his brother. “What are you playing at?”

Reign chugs the rest of his glass before placing it in the sink, bracing his hands on the counter and lifting his gaze to me as I stand dumbfounded in the hall, staring back at him.

“It was part of the hiring agreement,” he says, turning to look at Lando. “Angelique agreed to have me live in the guesthouse with her during this production.”

Lando whips his head to me with a shocked and confused expression. I raise my hands, taking a step back. “No, I didn’t,” I say, my voice small.

Reign clears his throat, and pulls out his phone, beginning to read. “Clause Seven; Angelique Sinclair gives Reign Herrington permission to live in The Harrington Guesthouse with her for the duration of The Swan Lake production.”

Before my brain even registers what I’m doing, I rush across the hall and snatch his phone right out of his hand and scan the screen.

There it is. Clause Seven.

As I continue scrolling down the length of the agreement, I find my signature. I must have been so distracted by the outrageous salary that I didn’t even read the whole thing properly. I pass the phone back to him with shaking hands.

“I don’t think I can do that,” I say out loud, panic rising like bile.

“You’ve already agreed to it,” Reign says, coolly.

Lando looks pissed as he stares at Reign. “What exactly is the end goal here then?” he spits. “Are you trying to get laid?”

The room goes silent, and I can feel the anger humming off Reign as he straightens slowly.

“My end goal, brother,” his voice sounds barely controlled, “is none of your business.”

Lando doesn’t back down. “Tricking her into a roommate clause isn’t the way we do things at Imperium, Reign.”

I close my eyes and rub at the ache between my brows. This conversation is getting out of hand, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it if they decide to physically fight here, like they used to when we were kids.

“It’s fine—” I start to say.

“No, Angelique. It’s not fine.” Lando cuts me off, turning red as he glares at Reign. “He manipulated you into another one of his games.”

“Lando.” I step between them, grabbing Lando’s arms to redirect his attention back to me. “I’ll be fine.”

Do I know that for sure? No. But the look of guilt on Lando’s face means I need to at least pretend that I do.

“I promised you a safe place,” he whispers, his face crumpling.

“Am I suddenly a danger to her?” Reign snaps, offence drenched in his tone as he crosses his arms.

I ignore him, keeping my focus on Lando. “If anything happens, I’ll call you right away.”

Reign exhales sharply, pushing past us and shoving his boots on. “I’m not here to hurt you, Angel.”

I see a flash of hurt in his expression before it vanishes, and his cold mask falls back in place. Guilt gnaws at my gut as he steps outside and lights another cigarette .

“Maybe you should come stay in the main house instead?” Lando suggests quietly.

I shake my head because I know Reign would only end up following me back there, anyway. There’s a reason he wants to live here with me, I just don’t know what it is yet.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I give him a small smile and he tries but fails to return it.

“Call me right away if anything that you’re not comfortable with happens,” he says, finally.

I nod in agreement, and he looks at me one last time before walking out the front door. He says nothing to Reign as he passes him and when he’s gone, I join Reign outside. He stays quiet while he smokes, staring straight ahead at the sinking sun just over the trees in the distance.

I let out a sigh, shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket before coming to stand beside him.

“I didn’t mean to imply you’d hurt me,” I say after a beat.

He doesn’t reply, instead taking another pull of his cigarette, and I don’t say anything right away either.

Because the truth is… he did hurt me. When I left for New York, he disappeared from my life like I never mattered.

One day we were talking, sharing music, whispering secrets and then the next, it was like I didn’t exist. No goodbye or explanation. He just ghosted me.

And for a long time, I told myself I understood, that maybe I hadn’t meant as much to him as he’d meant to me. I convinced myself it was easier for him to let go this way, but it still gutted me. I don’t say any of that now, though. I’m not sure I know how.

I take another deep breath and turn to face him. “But, if you’re going to be living here with me, then we need rules.”

He turns his head and finally looks at me—those blue eyes sending a tingle through my body—exhaling the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“Rules?” He asks, his tone curious.

I nod. “So that we’re both as comfortable as possible with this arrangement.”

His lip twitches and he turns his body to face me now, leaning his shoulder against a support beam. “I’m listening.”

“Okay, well for starters, we’re not allowed in each other’s rooms.” The last thing I want is to be haunted by the idea of him walking into my room while I’m asleep.

“Deal,” he says with a lazy smirk. “If you think you can manage that.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughs to himself but says nothing, so I roll my eyes and continue.

“Also, if you’re going to invite your girlfriend over, let me know beforehand so that I can leave,” I say, looking away now and feigning nonchalance as my cheeks warm. “The last thing I want is to hear anything I shouldn’t or have her try to rip my head off in the place that I sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

“Wendy,” I clarify.

“She is not my girlfriend.”

“Okay, fine. Fuck buddy,” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Whatever.”

“She’s not my fuck buddy, either,” he says, meeting my eyes. “But I get your point.”

“Well then, the rule applies to whoever is your girlfriend or fuck buddy now.

He takes a long drag, studying me, then exhales slowly. “Same goes for you, then.”

I blink. “What? ”

“No boyfriend or fuck buddy,” he says, observing me.

“I don’t have either,” I say, slowly.

I don’t miss the twitch of his lip again and the playful glint in his eyes. “Noted.”

My cheeks warm and I look away again.

“Any other rules?” he asks after a beat, tossing his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his boot.

“If I think of more, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” he says, before turning and walking back into the house.

Detangling my curls takes nearly an hour.

They’re always the most tangled after a day of dancing but once detangled I always think I look my prettiest. Each tug of the brush causes my fresh cuts to sting when I bend my wrist, but I power through and when I’m finally done, I feel a little more human.

I throw on an oversized T-shirt and poke my head out of my bedroom to see if I can hear Reign. When I hear the water from the shower beating down in the bathroom across the hall, I tiptoe out of my room all the way to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water for the night.

What I don’t expect is for the bathroom door to swing open on my way back, and for Reign to step out into the hall with his bare, damp, chest and a towel loosely hanging off his waist, steam rolling behind him like a movie scene.

I freeze, like a deer caught in headlights, my jaw dropping open as I stare at him. My face grows so hot, and I’m positive I’ll combust any second. Water droplets trail down the ridges of his abs, and my entire body short-circuits.

I realize he can clearly see me checking him out, and my eyes snap up to his, but what I see sends my heart into a panic. His eyes are dragging a path down my body—devouring me—and that’s when I remember that I’m only dressed in an oversized T-shirt.

Without a word I bolt back to my room, water from my glass sloshing all over the floor, and slam the door behind me, pressing my back against it as I take calming breaths, my heart beating out of my chest. My glass of water is now only a quartered filled when prior to my big escape it was filled almost to the rim.

Great.

I place the glass on my nightstand and crawl into bed, but minutes later, my phone dings and I slowly reach for it on my nightstand only to find a text lighting up the screen.

Reign of Terror:

For the record, I didn’t mind you looking.