Young and Scambitious (Scambitious #1)

Chrysalis

"She could be an heiress but she's boring as fuck"—Saucy Socials was so funny.

Frankly, Chrysalis Magnolia was glad that Elizabeth looked the way she did. She was pretty, sure, because perfectly rosy skin, almond eyes, and full lips looked good on anybody. But the combination wasn't that striking, and Chrysalis could identify Eurasians and Fil-Ams who were prettier and fairer, using the fingers of both her hands and the next person's. Elizabeth was tall, but she was also curvy, which meant she would be noticed in a room but not proclaimed a fashion muse, or chosen as a model. She was from a loaded family but they weren't that rich, not enough to have schools or buildings or streets named after them.

Elizabeth Madrid was the ideal friend for now, that was what she was. Just the right amount of sheen so Chrysalis wouldn't be accused of slumming it, but not actually a threat.

Because Chrysalis tried slumming it, and it didn't work out as well. 

Someone stepped in front of her smelling of no-filter low tars and it gave the worst kind of déjà vu. He even looked like Stephen a little, same hair and type of shirt, same type of douche. That was the problem with this club, which Stephen agreed was hers post-breakup. He left too much of a mark here, spawning dozens of mini-hims. She might as well have shown up with a car full of Stephens and a spare in her trunk.

"You're in my way," Chrysalis snapped at the guy in front of her, and he probably thought that she was disappointed that he was blocking her view of DJ Astrolous, but she really just wanted him out of her sight—and sniffing range. She could care less about this crap music and crappier drinks. Where the hell was Elizabeth anyway?

Three sips of a margarita later, and the woman herself appeared, gliding in, appearing like she was hovering over the mere mortals. 

Ugh.

I guess that look is hot right now, she conceded. But it didn't matter if Chrysalis (grudgingly) thought Elizabeth was pretty. What mattered was that Elizabeth had the ring.

"Elizzybeth!"

"Chryssy!"

The greeted each other like best friends, giving each other a double beso, European style. Chrysalis never did that before but Elizabeth started it, and now she couldn't help but keep it up. And then her other friends started it too.

They were sheep.

The simple thin chain around Elizabeth's neck drew her attention. A round shiny gem hung from it, and it flashed a tiny light whenever Elizabeth's chest moved a certain way. On any other neck in the room it would have been cheap, but Elizabeth made it work. Besides, if your family was all about jewelry, you'd know your stuff.

Meeting Elizabeth Madrid—of the Madrid jewelry family—in Singapore, of all places, was a stroke of luck that came just at the right time. She could have sworn she brought along a tampon when she went out that night but apparently didn't, and sought help from the only other girl in the hotel bathroom. And to think, if Chrysalis hadn't been as sharp as she was, making that connection with the name, she would have missed the opportunity entirely. 

"Do you have my present?" Chrysalis asked sweetly. It was the voice she used only on occasions like these, but Elizabeth hadn't known her long enough to tell. "Do you have my shiny present?"

Elizabeth's right hand held a leather clutch and she tapped it against Chrysalis' forehead. "It's here. But finish your drink. I'm not in a hurry."

Chrysalis hoped that the lights obscured her face, which was probably red from being tapped in the head like a child. She downed the margarita in one big gulp.

"I'm in a hurry. Let's see it."

Elizabeth pouted. "But I just got here."

"Can we talk in my car? I don't want someone swiping your clutch and taking my ring."

"Fine," she said. "Can't I get something to eat first?"