Falcon (Trinity Academy 1)

Prologue

Falcon

Sitting at Club 55 while overlooking Pamplona beach on our vacation in Spain, aggravation fills me as I watch Grayson and his posse of friends head in our direction.

Grayson fucking Stateman. With his sharp features and furtive eyes, one look at him is enough to ruin my day. West and Serena being here with him only add to my annoyance.

“I’m getting tired of this bullshit,” I murmur, but it’s loud enough for Mason and Lake to hear. The three of us have been best friends since birth, where Grayson has been our nemesis. Our families are at constant war with the Statemans in the business world.

Lazily turning their heads, Mason and Lake glance in the direction I’m scowling.

“Fuck, how does Serena always know where we’re at?” Mason asks, a pissed off look darkening his features.

“She probably heard it from our mothers,” Lake says, and resting his head back, he closes his eyes. “Mason, don’t get into a fight with West.”

I swear Lake can sleep anywhere. He’s the chilled one in our group, whereas Mason is the fighter.

Mason clenches his jaw, growling, “If he starts a fight, I’ll be sure to finish it.” It won’t take much for Mason and West to tear into each other, and it’s the last thing I’m in the mood for during our summer vacation.

Where Grayson and I are locked in a constant battle for the top spot of our social circle, Mason and West hate each other with a consuming vengeance. It’s been that way since the car accident Mason’s sister died in.

“Gentlemen,” Serena smiles, her green eyes sharp and vindictive. Her styled ginger hair hangs in perfect waves over her shoulders. Dressed in the latest fashion from Versace, she looks elegant as always. Having known her for years, I see through the mask of sophistication which hides a viper you don’t want to get into bed with.

“I’d call you a lady, but we both know I’d be lying,” Mason sneers, the energy coming off him patronizing and explosive.

“Mason… charming as always.” Filled with annoyance, Serena’s gaze sweeps over the table to where I’m sitting. An alluring smile forms around her lips as her eyes meet mine. “Falcon, what a lovely surprise bumping into you here of all places.”

Lake lets out a soft chuckle, then lazily mutters, “Surprise my ass. Atherton’s socialites spread news faster than a wildfire.”

Her eyes snap to Lake but picking her battles wisely, she lets his comment go and focuses her attention back on me. Everyone knows attacking Lake in any way is off-limits. It’s a line no one is willing to cross, knowing it will bring out the worst in Mason and I. Lake is the kindest soul with a heart of gold which makes Mason and I overly protective of him.

“Mother says they’re in talks with your family about a merger,” Serena says, her voice filled with premature triumph.

I grind my teeth and shooting Serena a steely glare, I reply, “Merger? You call an arranged marriage between us a merger?”

“Of course. Combining our assets will make us a power couple in California.”

Like hell. Over my dead body.

Serena Weinstock comes from old wealth and a long line of senators. Her father just got inaugurated into office this term. Mother would love a family tie between us because it would give the family name more power in the legal world against the Statemans. Unfortunately for Mother, I will never marry Serena.

She’s so fucking poisonous my dick would shrivel up and fall off after just one night with her.

I let out a chuckle as I slowly rise from my chair. Biting my bottom lip, I tilt my head, making sure there’s a look of boredom on my face. “When I invest, I expect a return.” I glance toward the stretch of beach so it will bring the point across that even acknowledging her is a waste of my time, “Unfortunately, you’re a depreciating asset.”

Offended, she lifts her chin an inch. Her mouth pulls down at the corners, and it reminds me of my mother – haughty and pretentious.

Definitely not an attractive feature.

Before she can strike back at me, I begin to walk away. As I pass him, my eyes flick to Grayson’s and seeing the smirk on his face, I know this encounter with them will only be the first of many to come if we continue our vacation here.

“West, so kind of you to settle our tab,” Mason says, and glancing over my shoulder I see him shoving the folder with our bill against West’s chest.

Wanting to save face with the rich and famous patrons seated around us, West painstakingly nods although his eyes promise Mason retribution once they’re alone.

With Mason and Lake following right behind me, we leave the rustic ambiance of the exclusive club.

“Are we leaving St. Tropez?” Lake asks once we’re a good distance away from the club.