Cruel War (The Gilded Sovereign 1)

No women can resist Etienne.

That’s the reason we call him the god of love, well, lust more like. Because his real name is Eros Etienne Durand, but he’s forbidden us from calling him by his first name.

“I have my own ride,” blondie bites out, rolling her eyes as if he’s annoying her. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen my best friend not get a giggle and a blush from a girl.

I take in the dark-haired beauty, the one who I’m going to love to see bend and break. “You comin’ to my party this weekend.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement as I gesture toward the stoned faced little flower. Dahlia turns her head toward me, peering at me with her eyes narrowed, as if she’s wary of me, and shrugs.

“Come on, being at a new school, you got to make friends somehow.” I tip my head to the side in an attempt to read her reaction to me. A small tremble, nothing more than that, and it makes my work harder, so I get closer to her.

“I have school work,” she tells me, shouldering her rucksack as if it’s heavy.

“I’ll see you there.” I lean in, before whispering, “My place, seven-thirty.” I pivot on my heel and walk away, leaving both girls staring after me. Etienne is beside me in an instant as I press the key fob of my sleek, onyx Audi Spyder. The darkened windows offer privacy, which comes in handy when I have one of the pretty freshmen sitting next to me.

“She’s a tough nut,” Etienne remarks as I peel out of the parking lot, with one last glance in the rear-view mirror at the girl who’s becoming the focus of all my attention.

“Easy pickings, man,” I tell him as I swerve through the cars and head up the hill toward the house. Lancaster Mansion is one of the biggest and most infamous properties in the town. Beside us is the Calvert mansion, and on the other side of Tynewood are the Durand’s.

“I doubt she’ll come to the party,” he tells me.

Smiling, I cut a glance toward him before shaking my head. “You underestimate me, lover boy,” I grin, earning me a punch on the shoulder. As I pull up to the house, I note my brother’s blacked-out Lambo parked in the drive. He’s nowhere to be seen, and I wonder who’s bed he’s in right now. One thing about my brother—he’s worse than me when it comes to breaking hearts.

Being five years older, he’s had a string of girls racing from the house on numerous occasions when he still lived at home. Me and the guys would be driving up to the house when we’d see some pretty girl in her car, mascara running down her cheeks, and Philipe grinning like he’d just won the goddamned lottery.

“What’s he still doing here?” Etienne questions as he pushes open the door, stepping out and waiting for me.

“We have Sovereign meeting tonight,” I tell him before exiting the car, rounding the front to meet him on the other side. He follows me into the foyer and down toward the back of the house where the kitchen is located.

The moment I set foot in the large space, I find our chef, Monique, working on something at the cooker. She glances my way and smiles when I give her a wink. She and her mother have been working for my family since I can remember.

Monique is in her early thirties, pretty enough for an older lady. Even though I’ve had a quick thing with Mo, there’s nothing more for me in her bed. It’s how I’ve always been. One night is more than enough. But right now, not even the promise of the inking can distract me. My mind is still on the little flower.

“Mo,” I greet her, before pulling open the fridge to grab two bottles of beer and handing one to Etienne.

“Dinner will be at six,” she tells me. “Your dad called to make sure that you and your brother will be here.”

“Yeah, sure,” I responded noncommittally. He probably wants a nice family dinner before he tells us the moment Philipe is in charge, I’ll be second chair. I leave her in the kitchen and make my way up to my bedroom with Etienne following. Once inside, I shut the door and turn on the stereo.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asks, before taking a swig of his drink.

“You want the little blonde?”

He nods.

“Keep her busy,” I suggest with a smirk because I know it’s a job he’ll enjoy. “I want to take her friend to the church and see just how quickly I can get her to leave town,” I tell him, knowing I should’ve planned this better, but fuck it. That’s the only place I can think of that will ensure she obeys my fucking rules.