Prologue
SIERRA
“You could always ask me to marry you,” Saskia says, batting her eyelashes at Ben like she’s sweet and innocent, and marriage-worthy, and not a cruel manipulative bitch who gets off on tormenting me any chance she gets. Her eyes dart over his shoulders, squinting in my direction, and I tuck my head back into the dark alcove, pressing my spine farther into the wall, praying she doesn’t find me spying on her. There will be hell to pay if she knows I’ve been listening to her nauseating attempt to convince her boyfriend to put a ring on it.
“What?” he splutters, a choked laugh slipping from his mouth. “You can’t be serious?”
The mounting panic sluicing through my veins slowly calms at the obvious disbelief in his voice. I rub a hand across my tight chest, wishing I could see his face, to know he’s not entertaining her laughable suggestion for even a second. I’ve often wondered how Ben has put up with my sister for so long. I thought, for sure, he would have kicked her to the curb within those first few weeks of dating. But he has stuck it out for a year. If you ask me, he deserves a gold medal for putting up with my eldest sister for that long.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” Saskia snaps in a tone I’m more familiar with.
“Because you’re twenty and I’m twenty-one, for starters,” Ben replies in a more conciliatory tone.
“We’re adults,” Saskia huffs while I roll my eyes.
She loves to throw that one at me on the regular. “I’m an adult, Sierra, and you’re still a kid. You will do what I say, or I’ll tell Daddy you’re being a brat again.” I clench my fists at my sides, wishing there wasn’t such an age gap between me and my sisters. Maybe, if we were closer in age, they wouldn’t see me as their problematic little sister, and I wouldn’t feel like such an outsider in my own family.
The only one who truly gets me is Mom.
To my sisters, I’m a nuisance.
To Father, I’m an unfortunate accident who continues to mess up his perfect life because I won’t conform.
I might be only thirteen, and still discovering who I am, but I know enough about myself to want to forge my own path in life. Not to willingly follow the plan Father has mapped out for me—the same way he has done with my two sisters—just because we have to keep up appearances as the daughters of one of the wealthiest, most powerful, and most successful businessmen in the US.
Screw that.
I will make my own way in life, thank you very much.
And if he wants to cut me off, so be it. I would rather be broke and free to make my own decisions than miserable and rich.
“Old enough to vote, and have sex, and get married,” Saskia adds, as I resume eavesdropping on their conversation.
Ben clears his throat. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting we get married so we can have sex.”
My cheeks warm at the turn in their conversation, and a foreign fluttery feeling swirls in my belly. It’s the same sensation I get any time I daydream about Bennett Carver.
I’m sure there is some rule about not crushing on your sister’s boyfriend, and maybe I’ll be struck down for my naughty thoughts, but I can’t help liking Ben because he is awesome. And freaking hot. I can’t deny I have fantasized about running my fingers through his thick dark-brown hair like I’ve seen Saskia doing, or staring deep into his piercing blue eyes, or that I have imagined what it would feel like to touch him and kiss him. The warmth in my cheeks expands until it feels like they’re on fire, and I press a clammy palm to my face, willing the flames to die down.
My sister is so lucky, because Ben is gorgeous. But it’s not just that he’s good-looking—he is sweet and kind and funny, and he treats me like I’m a person of worth, not like I’m something nasty clinging to the bottom of his shoe.
He sees me. Like Mom sees me. And I love him for that.
“I’m not suggesting it for that reason.” Saskia’s voice lowers, and the husky sound grates on my nerves. “In fact, I’ve decided I don’t want to wait any longer. I want you.”
To hell with the consequences. I need to see what’s going on. Cautiously, I poke my head out of the alcove, smothering my pain as I watch my sister curl her arms around Ben’s neck, rubbing the fine hairs on his nape, while she stares at his mouth like she wants to eat him alive.
“I thought you were waiting for your wedding night,” Ben coolly replies, his tone giving nothing away.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she purrs, pressing her body against his.
Ben’s hands rest lightly on her hips, and I scowl, wanting to rush into the room and yank him away from her. “Why?”
“Why does it matter?” she says, an edge creeping into her voice. “I’ll let you fuck me. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along?”
Releasing her, Ben takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve respected your wishes, Saskia, and I never put any pressure on you. Don’t make out like I’m forcing you into doing something.”
“Why does everything have to be such a big deal with you?” she hisses, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.
“What the fuck?” He cranks out a laugh. “You have the nerve to accuse me of that after you’ve just suggested marriage? Do you even hear how crazy you sound?”
“Don’t make fun of my feelings.” Her lip juts out in a pout, and I roll my eyes again. “I love you, and I know we belong together, so why wait?”
“Whoa.” Ben takes another step back, dragging his hand through his hair again. “Enough with the heavy. I came to take you out to dinner, and it’s feeling more and more like an ambush.”
“Now you’re being dramatic.” Saskia pokes him in the chest with her finger, and I’m gonna give myself eyestrain if I roll my eyes any more.
“Maybe we should do this another night,” Ben says, and Saskia’s eyes widen briefly in alarm.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” She closes the gap between them, placing her hands on his chest over his black button-up shirt. “We can’t celebrate our one-year anniversary any night but tonight.” She plants a faux sugary smile on her face that to me always makes her look like she’s constipated. “Forget I said anything. We can talk about it later.”
His sigh is loud in the silent room, but whatever he sees on her face seals the deal. “Okay. Let’s just go out and have fun.” He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, and I want to rip his fingers away from her. I hate that she gets to feel his hands on her. I wish I was older so I could fight her for him, because I would make a much better girlfriend.
“I need to finish getting ready,” Saskia says, making a move toward the door.
I don’t wait to hear the end of the conversation. I slip around the corner of the alcove and exit the room, racing in my bare feet toward my studio before she comes out and catches me.
Twenty minutes later, I have forgotten all about my sister and Ben as I paint swirls of vibrant color on the canvas in broad sweeping strokes.
Mom turned one of the extra reception rooms into an art studio for me a few years ago, and it’s my safe haven in this monstrosity we call home. If I’ve had a bad day or something is bugging me, I lock myself away in here and vent my feelings through art. I don’t discriminate and I don’t restrict myself, experimenting with whatever appeals to my creative side. Mom indulges my whims, and I have taken classes in oil painting, watercolors, pottery, and jewelry making. Right now, I’m taking a photography class, and I’m enjoying getting a feel for the new Nikon camera Mom bought me for my birthday.