CHAPTER ONE | TYRA KÄUTNER |

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TYRA KÄUTNER

Fireworks burst into bloom above the lake, hanging suspended in the clear night air, then drifting down in glittering clouds that settle on the water.

My father flinches at the first explosion. He doesn't like things that are loud or unexpected. Which is why I get on his nerves sometimes—I can be both of those things, even when I'm trying to behave myself. I see his scowl illuminated by the blue and gold light. Yup, definitely the same expression he gets when he looks at me.

"Do you want to eat inside?" Ryder asks him.

Because it's a warm night, we're all sitting out on the deck. Tokyo is not like Germany—you have to take the opportunity to eat outdoors whenever you can get it. Still, if it weren't for the sound of traffic below, you might think you were in an Italian vineyard.

The table is set with the rustic stoneware brought from the old country three generations ago, and the pergola overhead is thickly blanketed by the fox grapes Papa planted for shade. You can't make wine out of fox grapes, but they're good for jam at least.

My father shakes his head. "It's fine here," he says shortly.

Ryder grunts and goes back to shoveling chicken in his mouth. He's so big that his fork looks comically small in his hand. He always eats like he's starving, hunched over his plate. Ryder is the oldest, so he sits on my father's right-hand side. Hunter's on the left, with Nash next to him. I'm at the foot of the table, where my mother would sit if she were still alive.

Ryder Käutner
Nash Käutner
Hunter Käutner
and me...Tyra Käutner

"What's the holiday?" Ryder says as another round of fireworks rocket up into the sky.

"It's not a holiday. It's Nessa Kaulitz's birthday," I tell him.

They're setting off fireworks to make sure absolutely everybody in the city knows their little princess is having a party —as if it wasn't already promoted like the Olympics and the Oscars combined.

Hunter doesn't know because he doesn't pay attention to anything that isn't basketball. He's the youngest of my brothers, and the tallest. He got a full ride at Tokyo State, and he's good enough that when I go visit him on campus, girls stare and giggle everywhere he goes, and sometimes pluck up the courage to ask him to sign their t-shirts.

"How come we weren't invited?" Nash says sarcastically.

We weren't invited because we fucking hate the Kaulitz, and vice versa. The guest list will be carefully curated, stuffed with socialites and politicians and anybody else chosen for their usefulness or their cache. I doubt Nessa will know any of them. Not that I'm crying any tears for her. I heard her father hired Demi Lovato to perform. I mean, it ain't Halsey, but it's still pretty good.

"What's the update on the Oak Street Tower?" Papa says to Ryder while slowly and meticulously cutting up his chicken parm.

He already knows damn well how the Oak Street Tower is doing, because he tracks absolutely everything done by Käutner Construction. He's just changing the subject because the thought of the Kaulitzs sipping champagne and brokering deals with the haute monde of Tokyo is irritating to him. I don't give a shit what the Kaulitzs are doing. Except that I don't like anybody having fun without me.

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