Saints (SAINTS #1) | ✓

prologue

THERE WERE THREE THINGS Jasmina was sure of in life. One: she was irrefutably and indisputably the reigning queen of Gaia High. Two: she was devastatingly beautiful and capable of getting anything she wanted. And last but not least: she was absolutely heartless.

At least, that's what she had heard plenty of times from broken-hearted people who had tried to get close to her. She couldn't say it bothered her, but not many things did.

She was Jasmina Nawar after all, the dream on black Louboutins all guys wanted to have and all girls wanted to be. With an oil sheikh as her father and a world-reknown model and actress as her mother, it was no wonder that everyone knew her name. Every one of her steps had been watched since youth after all, all of the moments in her life on the frontpage of every prominent magazine - the perfect life of every teen, from her jets to her all equally beautiful friends, the scent of money around them almost thicker than her Chanel no. 5.

And as she slid off her kimono of pink silk and gold lace, she pulled herself into a small, vividly crimson Prada dress, hand sliding over what little of fabric there was. She stepped into her choice of shoes for the day, a pair of Jimmy Choo's, before settling in front of her mirror and carefully putting on her make up.

She could do it all a lot faster, but it was a routine to be late for parties at this point, if only because a queen never arrived on time. And besides -

The sound of a car honking outside brought a smirk on her mauve-painted lips and she slowly stood up, shaking out her midnight locks as she walked to her balcony, perfectly taking her time. Once she reached it, the half-open doors letting in the fresh breeze that was signaling the end of summer, she leaned on the silver rails, knee resting against the fleurs-des-lis as she looked down at the lavish amount of ground that made up her frontyard.

And there he was, standing outside his choice of the day, a jet black Maserati, her own Prince Charming. She couldn't help her smile at the obvious irritation on his face - oh, she loved to make people wait.

"Hey there, handsome," she called out to him as she rested her chin on her palm, manicured nails tapping against the cinnamon skin of her cheek.

He looked up and as the lingering rays of the sun blended into his face like he was made of them, she couldn't help but admire him for a second. Alan Lewis was made of amused smirks, grudges carried in his sharp features and a natural charm lacing his lips, a lean, muscled figure formed by years of intensive baseball training under his extravagantly expensive clothing. The soft breeze carried his dark locks along, tousling them from his usual combed-back look, covering his stunning blue eyes for a moment, ringed with lashes so long Jasmina almost was jealous of them.

Almost being the keyword - jealousy was after all an emotion she was foreign to.

How could she be when she had it all?

"Jas, get down here," he scowled," I've been waiting for ten minutes already and we're late."

"Does my sweet Alan care about being on time, now?" she said with a soft clicking of her tongue.

"You know that's not it," Alan replied with an eyeroll," but it's a party of a close friend and we've been arriving late so often they don't even expect us to come at all anymore."

"So?" Jasmina said as she stretched out lazily, before tilting back her head and closing her eyes for a moment as she basked in the remnants of the starting summer heat," let them wait."

She wasn't even on time for school, knowing fully well the teachers would never dare to make a fuss about the Jasmine Nawar coming late. So no, coming on time for a party, that was the least of her worries.