(Lily)

I can't believe this is happening. Better yet, I can't believe I have never put the pieces together.

Kwan Song...cold, rude, and the biggest player on campus at Langbridge University. But it's worse than that. He's also the biggest regret of my life, and I make it a point not to regret anything.

And now here he is, standing at the top of the steps next to my sister's future husband and his...cousin?

Calla and Dominik exchange the most detached welcome I've ever heard, but I can't take my eyes off Kwan. Despite doing his best not to look my way, I catch him glancing a few times.

I try to look away, but I can't seem to do it either. He might be a total asshole, but even I'm willing to admit he's good-looking...as long as he doesn't open his mouth.

Sharp dark brown eyes that look almost black sit atop high cheekbones, but despite that, the chiseled jawline and slender face, his cheeks still hold a soft roundness to them. His lean figure is decked out in a black suit that nearly matches all the others around him, and his midnight-black hair is parted mostly to one side. It shows off a clean undercut while the longer strands cover half of his forehead and the slight furrow of his brow. He looks like a shadow next to Dominik. Or worse, a bad omen.

Full bow-shaped lips purse for a second as that dark gaze quickly flicks to me and away again.

I'm doing my best not to show any irritation on my face, but I'm not as good as Calla at hiding that stuff.

Ready to slap myself for staring so hard, I force my attention elsewhere just as Kwan turns and walks away, following Dominik and the others inside.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Calla whispers next to me as we follow the group of men in. Her gaze is filled with concern when no one is watching us.

"More like a demon," I whisper back.

I can't blame Calla for being confused. I've always told her everything, but he was one secret I was hoping to keep to myself. Now I'm thinking I might finally have to spill the tea.

As we pick up our pace to pass the horde of black suits and catch up to Dominik, a giant black door swings open on its own, and we're filed into a large, formal, modern living room. The whole back of the house has large windows open to the backyard, making the oversized space seem even more massive. The light wood floors and natural light filtering in gives the room a welcoming warmth, unlike the cold front that seems to be rolling off of Calla as she keeps in step with the man of the house.

"The welcoming party is a little over the top, don't you think, Dominik?" Calla snidely asks.

Her snark might be unsettling to some, but it fills me with a sense of familiarity in a place so new and foreign. It's her shield for the two of us, her way of keeping us safe.

Dominik stops and turns toward her before an annoyed smirk crosses his face. "I have royalty showing up to my humble abode, princess. I thought it would be fitting to have my top men here to greet you?" He gestures to the line of men in suits.

Calla rolls her light blue eyes, "Humble abode, my ass. I'm shocked you didn't paint the walls with gold leaf," she mumbles under her breath.

The snort that escapes me with that one can't be hidden. I feel several eyes from unknown suits fall on me for just a moment, but it's the annoyed look Kwan flashes that erases all the humor from my body.

Screw you. That shit was funny.

The only one who doesn't seem to notice me is Dominik.

"It was out of stock," he briefly fires back before moving on. "Let me introduce you to my people."

He places a hand on the small of Calla's back, but she side-steps closer to me to avoid his touch. He retracts quickly and takes a sharp breath in.

I'm careful not to give another audible reaction, but I roll my eyes deep down. Does he really think it's going to be that easy?

In a show of solidarity and support, I link my arm with hers, hoping she gets the silent, "I got your back."

"Lily, this is Ken." Dominik gestures to one of the suits with dark-brown hair. "He's the guard assigned to keep you safe."

"Is he qualified?" Calla asks, keeping her gaze on the average-looking guard.

"You don't think my men are trained enough to handle watching one twenty-year-old socialite?" Dominik raises a brow.

I know his words are meant to irk Calla, but I can't deny they strike a nerve. "And what about Calla? Who's going to protect her?"

"Myself." He gives me a bright white smile, but it has a tint of sarcasm. "Of course."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, good luck with that. You'll have to be able to keep up with her first."

"Yes, I'm sure the endless shopping will wear me out." Dominik gestures to Kwan. "Ladies, I'd also like to introduce you to my second in charge, Kwan Song, my brother."

Calla's icy mask slips as she looks genuinely shocked and confused. "Brother? Since when have you had a brother."

"Since he was born." Dominik looks pleased with himself that he caught her so off guard.

My surprise almost matches her. Once the pieces fell into place outside, I figured they were related, but I wasn't expecting they were brothers.

I attended all of the family dinners and get-togethers during Calla and Dominik's courting period when our parents were first setting up their marriage. It's mandatory for all immediate family to be there for the families to ensure the union is one both sides are confident in. Sure, these things are often a matter of whose business can benefit each other, but the heads of each household have to make sure there's at least some social and personal benefit as well. That usually takes up to six months, and over that time, I never saw Kwan at any of those meetings.

"You're an insufferable asshole," Calla growls.

Dominik's countenance turns smug as he leans in closer to her. "I know."

I know his close proximity is probably irking Calla's nerves, but the action feels...private, somehow.

Looking away from the two, my eyes instantly find Kwan's without even trying. I don't know if I should be surprised to find him looking back, his gaze locked with mine as he stands in front of a large, sleek fireplace. What's not surprising is noticing the complete lack of emotion in those dark depths. It's a look I know all too well.

Both in high school and even now at LU, I've caught Kwan talking with others, smiling even sometimes. But the second our eyes meet, it's like any traces of warmth evaporate into thin air. It stings, and then it pisses me off.

If either of us has the right to look at the other that way, it's me.

Dominik straightens back up, getting out of my sister's face before waving two women dressed in pressed grey dresses with simple white collars, no doubt his house staff. "Jennie and Sarah will get you set up in your rooms."

The two women approach us as the men in the room disperse.

"You're upstairs, miss," one of the women tells Calla as she gestures down the hall toward a staircase at the end of it.

"And Mr. Song has put you on the bottom floor, Miss Monroe," the other woman tells me, pointing off to the right of the room, which leads down a hall in a completely different direction.

Calla shoots the woman a look of irritation as she pulls her arm from mine. She clearly does not like that he separated us before she follows her guide toward the staircase.

"I'm Jennie, by the way," the quiet housekeeper tells me with a cheery smile before gesturing me to follow her past the long dining room table and into a hall. The walls have perfectly placed black and white pictures of a large city. Not one that I recognize, but it's pretty. Jennie turns a corner that seems dark compared to the open windows of the sitting room. We go past a couple of doors before she opens one at the end of the hall.

The room is large and, like the rest of the house, is decorated in a modern style. The key point of the room is a large wall dividing the space almost in half, and the outside wall is directly across from it, made completely out of large pane windows and a sleek glass door. Not much privacy, but the king-size bed standing against the other side of the divider wall has a perfect view of the outdoor lounge and pool area. I imagine seeing the sunset reflected in the water would be relaxing while lying down after a long day.

"The bathroom is just off to the left, Miss Monroe, and this," Jennie plucks a remote off the wall and shows it to me. "Runs the whole room. You have your lights, fan, air control, and blinds." She pushes a button, turning the glass wall completely opaque. "You can also use it to open and close the black-out curtains." She points to the dial to use. "And of course, if you need anything, just push this call button." She points to a red button at the bottom that reminds me of a nurse's call light in a hospital.

"Wow, it's almost like I have no need to leave the room," I say more sarcastically than I mean to before quickly apologizing. "Sorry. It's just been a long day."

Jennie offers a soft smile. "That's understandable, Miss Monroe. But please, feel free to explore. Mr. Song has expressed that this is home for you and your sister now, so don't feel as if you have to hide. The house chef has already prepared some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry."

"Thank you," I manage to get out before a yawn escapes me. "But a nap might be better right now."

Jennie nods and steps back towards the door. "Of course. Just press that button if you need me."

With that, she walks out, gently closing the door behind her.

I throw my purse on a chair next to the door and slowly walk around my new room. The first half on this side of the divider wall is set up with a nice desk and office chair, along with a small loveseat next to the chair housing my purse and some tall potted plants. It's not too over the top, almost as if waiting for someone to make the space theirs, but it's nice.

Walking around the divider wall, I get a better look at the large bed. The bedding feels expensive but looks a bit plain for my taste. I make a mental note to do some shopping to customize things as I continue off toward the bathroom. Everything in here is sleek stone and tiles: the double sink counter, the toilet, the stand-up shower in the corner, and the enormous tub sitting in the middle of it all.

It takes me a second to find the closet, realizing I passed it in the tiny hall connecting the bedroom to the bathroom. The double doors are covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and as I open them, I find boxes stacked inside a room as big as the bathroom. Having this much space for my clothes brings a smile of relief to my face, but knowing the things taken from my room back home are already here feels even better.

If I had the energy, I'd start unpacking now. But another yawn drains the last of my energy, so I drag myself to the bed and plop down. I don't even cover up or get a chance to admire the pool view before I'm fast asleep.

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

Familiar hands skim my bare back, exposed from the black silk dress now bunched around my thighs. Soft, full lips graze my neck, sending sparks down my spine, forcing me to close my eyes.

"You feel so good, baby," a familiar deep voice whispers.

My eyes snap open to meet a nearly black gaze threatening to swallow me whole. It's a sight I know well but normally lacks the swirl of emotions that's there now. As his eyes swim with desire, eating up the vision of me in front of him, I force myself to look away.

It doesn't help, though. Not as I take in how my body is straddling his solid form on a plush couch in some fancy bedroom. The realization of our position creates a sweet twisting sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Take this off for me, beautiful."

Fear and excitement zip through my veins until I realize he's tugging on the strings holding the ceramic mask to my face.

"Not yet," I answer, scared to let him see who he's whispering sweet nothings to.

A sexy smirk pulls at his lips. "Fine. I'll play your game."

"No games." I shake my head and smile. "I'm just taking my time."

Instead of saying anything, he leans in again to nip at the soft spot beneath my ear.

A gasp falls from my lips along with one word...one name I didn't want to say. "Kwan."

"It's not fair if you know my name, but I can't even see your face," he tells me in a playful, husky tone before leaving a trail of kisses along my jaw.

But as I close my eyes again to drown in the feelings he's creating, everything fades away, and it's as if I'm free-falling through nothing but empty black space. When my feet finally land on solid ground, my beautiful gown has been replaced with a school uniform. The fancy room is gone, too, as I stand in the halls of my old high school.

I try to convince myself that something's off, but all I can focus on is finding Kwan. Excitement and adrenaline fuel each step I take, overtaken by the urge to tell him it was me he was with that night. I'm positive he'll be happy about it, but my steps slow once I spot him at his locker. He's gorgeous in this rough yet polished way. I want nothing but to admire him just like this, but his conversation with his friend carries over to me.

"So you got that chick's name?" his friend asks.

Kwan pushes black strands of hair from his face and scoffs. "No. Why the hell would I want to do that? These rich spoiled brats aren't worth more than one night, no matter how much they think they are."

A sharp pain stabs me so hard in the chest I have to take several steps back. A gasp of air falls from my mouth while my hand rushes to cover the wound I know must be visible on my shirt.

No...he can't mean that.

"At least that's what my brother says," Kwan adds. "And he knows better than anyone. Besides, what if she's one of the worst ones?"

"Like a cheerleader?" his friend asks as they close their lockers.

Kwan laughs and starts walking away. "No, like a Monroe."

Tears rim my eyes, slowly blurring my vision until I can't see anything at all.

Screw you, Kwan Song.

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

I awake with a jolt, springing to a sitting position in the middle of my bed. Only it's not my bed...at least not the one I've been using for the last several years.

Blinking several times, I look around and take everything in.

Right...new room...new house.

The day returns as I realize where I am and take a deep breath. The pain in my chest, left over from that stupid fucking dream, slowly fades away. I don't know how many times my sleeping mind has forced me to relive that memory, but it pisses me off every time. The only peace it ever leaves me with is that I caught that conversation before my young and dumb self told him who I was. Being rejected hurts, but being rejected to your face is worse. At least this way, he never found out it was me.

And I'll be damned if he ever does.