Claimed By The Ruthless Alpha Devils

A party

MIRABELLA

Later in the afternoon, I come downstairs to find the guys huddled in a large room at the end of the right wing. The ceilings are so high it feels like standing at the bottom of a canyon. Warm afternoon light spills through floor-to-ceiling windows, pooling over glossy wood floors and expensive rugs. But the air is tense, brittle enough that I almost hesitate to step inside.

The Windsor brothers look up when I enter, and silence greets me—flat, heavy, not even the courtesy of a hello. It’s clear they’re not warming up to me anytime soon. Their eyes are wary, like I’m a grenade Cassian’s lobbed into the middle of their lives.

Cassian, ever oblivious or just stubbornly determined to play patriarch, tries to slice through the awkwardness. “Where are you guys going tonight?” he asks in a conversational tone, as if he’s only mildly curious.

For a moment, nobody answers. Kaden flicks a look to Kaius, who’s perched on a bar stool with one foot hooked around the lower rung, the other planted firmly on the floor. Tristan stands behind the bar, palms braced on its polished surface, watching the whole thing like he’s waiting for it to implode.

“Tristan?” Cassian prods, arching a brow.

Tristan lets out a breath that sounds more like a sigh of defeat. “Bianca Deveraux’s throwing a party.”

At the mention of Bianca, Kaius’ expression turns murderous, his scowl directed at Tristan like he’s personally betrayed him by even speaking.

Cassian doesn’t miss a beat. “Take Mirabella with you. It’ll be good for her to meet more of her classmates.”

Kaius snorts. “There’ll be booze, drugs, and s*x. You really want her there?”

“I’d rather just stay in tonight,” I cut in quickly, hoping that’ll end it, but no one’s really listening to me.

Cassian folds his arms over his chest, setting his jaw. “Then you three will watch out for her. She’s your sister now.”

“Oh, did you adopt her?” Kaius drawls, eyes sharp with mockery. “Guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Doing s**t without telling us is kind of what you do, right, Dad?”

“I don’t want to go to the party,” I try again, my voice tight. “I’m tired. I’d be happy to just stay home.”

Cassian glances down at me with a soft smile that’s somehow both apologetic and sly. “Good idea, Mirabella. You and I will watch a movie or something then.”

That’s all it takes. A muscle jumps in Kaius’ jaw, and his green eyes go flat. “You win. She can come with us. We leave at eight.”

Cassian drops his arm from my shoulder, and there’s a flicker of triumph there, he knows exactly what he’s done. The boys don’t want me alone with him, and he’s just played that card.

Kaius looks right at me, his eyes glinting. “Better go upstairs and make yourself presentable, sis. Can’t ruin your big debut by showing up looking like that.”

“Kaius…” Cassian warns.

Kaius lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Just trying to be helpful.”

Kaden tries, and fails, to smother a grin. Tristan just looks resigned, like he’s long accepted his brothers are the human embodiment of trouble.

My stomach flips. The only high school party I’ve ever been to was a dingy backyard affair with stale beer and music off someone’s cracked phone screen. But if I’m going to survive here for two years, maybe I do need to make some kind of impression. Still, I hate how much I care. Hate that a small, pathetic part of me wants to fit in.

Upstairs, I find all the shopping bags Marissa insisted I take lined up neatly at the foot of my bed. Tessa’s warnings echo in my mind, and I sift through my new clothes with hands that tremble more than I’d like to admit. Finally, I settle on a pale blush skirt that swishes around mid-thigh, paired with a soft white wrap top that dips delicately at the neck. It’s breezy and feminine, stupidly expensive, and makes me look like someone who might actually belong here.

I slip into cream ballet flats with tiny gold buckles, then leave my hair down, brushing it until it falls in silky waves. Marissa’s silver headband goes on last. In the bathroom mirror, I apply a little gloss and mascara, aiming for natural, but the end result looks more polished than anything I’ve worn before. I don’t look like Bella Harper. I look like someone who would be invited to tea with the Deveraux family, not a girl who once danced for tips under strobe lights.

When I step outside to meet the boys by the driveway, their reactions gut me. Tristan looks surprised, Kaden smirks outright, and Kaius, Kaius just leans back on his heels with a look of smug cruelty.

“We’re going to a party, sis, not tea with the president.”

It burns, but I keep my chin up. “Can you wait five minutes while I change?”

“Nah. Time to go.” Kaius is already striding toward the Range Rover, not bothering to look back. Tristan follows with a heavy sigh, and Kaden waits only long enough to shoot me a look that says, You coming or not?

The drive is awkward, Kaden’s hands gripping the wheel like he’d rather be anywhere else. He doesn’t turn on the radio, doesn’t speak, just stares out the windshield with a stony profile. When we finally pull up to a sprawling mansion inland, white columns, glowing lanterns, sleek cars parked all over the lawn, he cuts me a sideways look. “Nice headband.”

“Thanks. It cost a hundred and thirty bucks. Courtesy of your dad’s magic black card.”

His jaw tightens. “Watch yourself. Bella.”

I push the door open with a saccharine smile. “Thanks for the ride. Kaden.”

At the top of the sweeping steps, Kaius and Tristan are locked in a low, intense conversation. Tristan’s voice is strained. “Not smart, bro. Not during the season.”

Kaius spits something back that I can’t quite catch. When they notice me, Tristan breaks off with a muttered curse, while Kaius turns with that same cold amusement.

“This is Bianca Deveraux’s place. Her parents own half the resort chains on the coast. Don’t get sloppy drunk. Don’t embarrass the Windsor name. Don’t hang on us. Don’t use our name to get s**t. Act like a w***e and we toss you out on your ass. Tristan says your mom was a hooker. Don’t try that here.”

I stare him down, anger tightening my chest. “Screw you, Windsor. She wasn’t a hooker. Unless dancing’s your idea of s*x, and if so, your s*x life must really suck.” His eyes flash, but I don’t flinch. “Do your worst. You’re an amateur compared to the s**t I’ve been through.”

Without waiting for a response, I push past them into the house, head high, heart pounding. Inside, the bass is so heavy it rattles my ribs. A dozen perfect people turn to look at me, tight dresses, glittering jewelry, lazy cruel smiles. I force my lips into a calm curve, ignoring the hot crawl of embarrassment up my neck.

A hallway branches off the main foyer, quieter, darker. I duck down it, trying to catch my breath. That’s when a small voice startles me.

“It’s still early. But even if it wasn’t, this part of the house is always dead.”

I jump, clutching my chest. A girl rises from a plush armchair, petite with chin-length dark hair and a tiny mole above her lip. Her curves make me want to hate her on principle.

“Oh God, I didn’t see you.”

“I get that a lot.” She flashes a wry smile.

“I’m Bella…” i start, but before I can finish, she cuts in.

“Windsor,” she finishes.

“Well no,” I say. “Taylor. Windsor isn’t my name.”

She lifts a brow. I’m Sophie Deveraux. Bianca’s tragic sister.”

Figures. “You hiding?”

“Yup. Only one chair though.” She gestures behind her. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine. Hiding’s smart. Live to fight another day.”

Her smile turns wistful. “Exactly.”

Deciding to actually enjoy the party, I manage to convince Sophie to come out and dance with me. For a while, we actually seem to be having a good time, but the moment doesn’t last.

Bianca sweeps in with her entourage like a cold front, all frosty perfection and narrowed eyes. “Well, if it isn’t Windsor’s newest investment,” she purrs, gaze raking over me. “Tell me, Bella, did you have to warm Cassian’s bed to get him to open his wallet?”

I snap before I can stop myself. “Actually, the only person I’ve ever slept with is your own dad. Want details?”

Her face contorts in shock and disgust. “You’re sick.”

“Yeah, well, takes one to know one.”

She shoves me hard, aiming for the pool behind me, but I pivot, twist at the last second, and it’s Bianca who squeals as she topples in with a splash that draws gasps and laughter from every direction. Her friends gape, then scatter.

I stand there trembling, heart pounding out of control, when a hand clamps around my wrist. Kaius. His expression is thunderous. “It’s time to go.”

He all but drags me to the car, shoving me into the passenger seat. The ride is silent. Heavy. I expect him to unleash on me, to spit venom, but he doesn’t say a word. His knuckles are white on the wheel, eyes locked on the road.

Then, abruptly, he jerks the car off the highway onto a dirt path. My breath catches. The headlights cut through rows of trees until he stops in the middle of nowhere.

Kaius gets out, rounds the car, wrenches my door open. “Out.”

I stare at him. “What?”

“Get out. Find your own way home.”

My pulse crashes in my ears. But the door is open, and his hand is wrapped around the frame, waiting. I swallow hard, and step out into the dark.

He doesn’t even wait for me to close the door. The car peels off, taillights vanishing into the trees, leaving me alone on the side of the road with nothing but the sound of my own shaking breath.