Wealth, status, and beauty define the elite of Kensington Prep. Every one of them possesses the ability to get away with anything and everything they want, unscathed and remain as privileged and superior as ever.
But Amory Scout decides that tim...
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Glittering chandeliers with silver-domed dishes being set on crisp white tablecloths by waiters in black tuxedo jackets are a regular affair for the patrons of the Grand Dome Country Club. Located on Staten Island, the country club is a traditional Victorian structure stretching across vast green fields. Individuals can enjoy the sights of the gorgeously manicured golfing lawns as they indulge in decadent meals and swap gossip with their Book Club members. An exclusive VIP list is always expected at the Grand Dome but when Orson Calloway and I make our entrance at the Grand Dome's formal dining room, the room ripples with the usual hushed excitement.
Private school teen girls of the Upper East Side covertly scrutinize me from hair to heels and wannabe Alpha males of the upper echelon gaze at Orson with a mixture of envy and disdain. I've gone down a near virginal route with my outfit choices- a simple long black satin Oscar de la Renta, diamond studs and a narrow white pearl necklace that had once belonged to my mother.
"What's with the pearls?" Orson had joked when his hands found their way to the small of my back. We have just finished a quick session- a session that leaves my cheeks flushed and my breaths laboured.
"We're having dinner with my family," I replied, heart-pounding but not because of the sex. It was because of my nerves, tightly coiled at how precarious everything was- the truth about Orson, his mother's death, the nature of my parent's death, his father-turned-brother, Delia fucking Calloway.
I thought I had everything figured out.
No, you didn't, a voice screamed in my head. And now everything was too far. Did Georgina die for nothing? Did Luciana get chased out of New York because of a mistake I made? Was everything in the trash because I didn't look at the truth hard enough? Was it my fault?
No, it's not your fault, a voice told me after I popped a Xanax to calm myself down. Your parents still die at their hands. Your parents still die at the hands of a Calloway, just not Orson. Remember what Orson did to Atticus? Remember, remember.
Now my list has expanded. Delia and Elijah will pay for their sins.
"What's wrong, babe?" Orson asks, realizing my frown. I shake it off and make myself smile, hoping it reaches my eyes. I'm too tense. Maybe I need another Xanax.
"Nothing," I tell him and kiss him sweetly on the cheek, "I'm just worried about Parker."
"What happened?"
I quietly fill him in on Bailey and Melissa's return to New York as we are led to a long banquet table by the trophy wall where members of Nguyen family- Veronica, Hadley, Hadley's older, cool brother Jackson Nguyen and his Scandinavian model girlfriend Ingrid (much to Veronica's dislike) and Tessa, Hadley's little twelve-year-old sister- and their honoured guests, the Olsen family, are already seated.
My stomach twists at seeing all my cousins on the table with Orson Calloway around my arm. Especially since the last time they saw me is when I was a brunette.
