BORN TO RUIN LUCIAN KINGSTON

Chapter 3

ELIZABETH.

“I made it exactly how you like it.”

Selene set the coffee on my nightstand and smiled at me, that wide, generous smile that had fooled me for twenty-six years. She looked genuinely happy to be here. Genuinely happy to see me.

She was so good. She really was.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“You’re my sister.”

“Still.” I picked up the mug, let the warmth spread through my palms. “You’re too good to me, Selene.”

Something moved behind her eyes. Pleasure, I think. “Don’t be silly.”

“I mean it.” I looked at her over the rim. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She stayed another ten minutes.

“Have you spoken to Lucien?”

I stared at her before shaking my head.

“I guess you will see him at the party” she laughs. “What are you planning to wear”

“I haven’t decided yet”

She moved closer “You should wear navy blue. He loves you in blue”

“You seem to know him so well” I placed a small smile on my face.

She laughed “I just pay attention”

“That’s such a gift,” I told her. “I wish I was more like that.”

She patted my hand on her way out. “You’re perfect exactly as you are.”

The door clicked shut.

I looked at the coffee.

Then I walked to the bathroom and poured it down the drain.

“I thought we agreed on the navy.”

Selene’s eyes moved over my green dress and stayed there a half-second too long. Not long enough to be rude. Exactly long enough to notice.

“Did we agree?” I picked up my clutch. “I thought you suggested it.”

“I……yes, I suggested it. Because Lucien….”

“Selene.” I smiled at her. “It’s just a dress.”

She smiled back. “Of course. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” I touched her arm on my way to the door. “So do you.”

He saw me the moment I walked in.

I know because I felt it—that specific weight of someone’s attention finding you across a crowded room. I didn’t look at him. I greeted the couple nearest the door, laughed at something the husband said, let the host take my coat.

By the time I turned toward the table, I had exactly the right amount of color in my cheeks and not a single thought on my face.

Lucien was already standing.

I smiled at him the way I used to, warm, and then I walked past the seat Selene was hovering near and chose the one two places down.

“Elizabeth,” Lucien said.

“Lucien. You look well.” I unfolded my napkin. “Is the Baretti account resolved or is that still keeping you up at night?”

A beat of silence.

“How do you know about the Baretti account?”

“You mentioned it once. Back in September, I think.” I reached for the water. “Did it resolve?”

“It….yes. Last week.”

“Good.” I smiled and turned to the woman on my left.

He lasted until the second course.

“The Mercer acquisition,”

I looked up. “What about it?”

“You told Marcus it would resolve once both parties stopped trying to win.” His eyes were fixed on mine. “Word for word, that’s what my lawyers told me on Monday.”

“Smart lawyers.”

“How did you know that?”

“I pay attention.” I tilted my head slightly. “Isn’t that allowed?”

“You’ve never….” He stopped. Started again. “You don’t follow my business dealings.”

“You’ve never asked whether I do.”

He looked at me the way you look at something familiar that has suddenly, without explanation, become unrecognizable. Like he was trying to find where the old Elizabeth was and whatever this was.

He wouldn’t find it. I’d made sure of that.

“You’re wearing green,” he said.

“I am.”

“You always wear blue to these things.”

“Do I?” I reached for my glass. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Elizabeth.”

“Lucien.”

“What’s going on with you?”

I set my glass down and looked at him fully, all warmth and open eyes and absolutely nothing behind them he could use. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Yes you do.”

“You’re staring,” I said pleasantly. “People will talk.”

“Let them.”

“That’s very unlike you.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re different.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because every time I look at you tonight, it’s more true.” His voice dropped lower. “Talk to me. What happened?”

I smiled—soft, sweet, the smile of a woman with nothing to hide. “Nothing happened, Lucien. I’m exactly the same.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re really not.”

The man to my right chose that moment to ask about the wine. I turned to him immediately, laughing, delighted, completely absorbed, and didn’t look back at Lucien for the rest of the course.

But I felt him looking. The whole time. I felt him looking.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Selene appeared at my elbow the moment I stood to leave, slightly too fast. “Did you notice?”

“Was he? I didn’t notice.”

“Liz.” A little laugh. “You had to notice.”

“I was talking to the Brennans most of the night. They’re lovely, actually, have you met them properly?”

“Elizabeth.” Her hand on my arm. “Is everything okay? You seem off, tonight. Like you’re not quite here.”

I looked at her. My sister. My blood. The person who had kissed my cheek this morning with hands that had just finished poisoning my coffee.

“I’m completely here,” I said warmly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Of course.” She rubbed my arm. “Let’s get you home.”

**

She thought I was asleep.

That was the thing about Selene. She was meticulous about most things, but she’d always underestimated how lightly I slept. At eleven forty-three I heard her footsteps in the corridor, heading toward the east sitting room.

I was already there, the door three inches open.

Her voice came through low and even,

“—I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter. She had one interesting evening. That’s all.” A pause. Listening. “No. She suspects nothing. I was with her all night.” Another pause, and then an exhale, almost pitying “She’s just…..you know how she gets. She tries so hard. It’s sweet, actually.”

I looked at my phone screen.

Three minutes, forty seconds.

“The drink is handled,” Selene said. “The photos are ready. Everything runs exactly as planned.” Her voice dropped lower “She won’t be a problem. She never really was.”

The call ended.

Her footsteps moved back down the corridor.

I sat in the dark and listened to them fade and thought about the coffee this morning, the exact right temperature, the single sugar, her hands around my cup all the way up the stairs and I felt anger brewing in my chest.

I stopped the rec

ording and saved it.

She won’t be a problem, so she said.

I stood up, smoothed my dress, and walked back to my room.

Forty-two days.

That was enough time to make her think that.