Inherited Malice: A Dark Secret Society Romance

Oh, Beau, honey, did I have some surprises in store for you.

We both got dressed—or, well, I got undressed. I went to the bathroom, my favorite space for myself where I could hear myself think and did my hair and make-up. We didn’t have much time since the invitation had come late in the day. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to when they came. I guess it was part of the Initiation. They liked to keep us on our toes, keep us guessing.

I was used to a chaotic life, so it wasn't a mind game that bothered me much. The grifting lifestyle wasn’t exactly known for its stability.

Last year, I was running a scam on this jackhole club promoter in Atlanta by claiming connection to marketing gurus and influencers. I got him to fork over ten grand before ghosting him. Anyway, I was up at all hours while also holding down a full-time job as a telemarketer. I usually tried to keep a legit job in addition to my extracurriculars.

I looked good on paper and have a solid resume without any gaps. I just also happened to be able to pay cash for a nice car on Craigslist and keep myself flush with nice clothes and, ya know, groceries, while the regular tax-payer job paid most of the rent.

Unlike Tina with her Ibiza dreams, I only ever wanted to get by. Everyone else got advantages I didn’t, so I do what I gotta do to level the playing field. Seems fair to me.

And… well, once you learn to play people, it’s hard to stop. Like the guy at the club. He was sleazy AF. He started hitting on me, staring at my tits the whole time and was obviously such an easy fucking mark…

“Here, let me put the necklace on you,” Beau said when he saw me standing still after I’d come out of the bathroom.

I looked up at him, jolted out of my memories. He was tall and suave and handsome as hell in his pressed tux, the glittering gem-laden tie at his neck. Then again, the man would look sinful in nothing but a loincloth. All dolled up like this he looked like a god of the universe. Dominant, at ease, in his element.

My heartbeat sped up as he approached. It’s the diamonds he’s holding, I told myself. In addition to the necklace, there had to be another hundred thousand between the giant diamonds in those earrings and bracelet.

It had nothing to do with Beau Radcliffe himself. Nothing at all.

Yeah, whispered another voice in my head sarcastically. Keep telling yourself that.

I pursed my lips and clenched my teeth as Beau walked around me and pushed the top of my robe down so he had access to my neck. My hair was in an updo—the same it had been the first night I’d arrived. I knew the jewels would look fabulous on my long neck. I’d embedded the tiara in the curls stacked on top of my head, and I looked like the half-million bucks that would be draped around my body.

But still, even though I knew I looked the part, when Beau’s fingers whispered across my skin as he settled the heavy necklace against me—I felt like an imposter.

Because some stupid part of me felt the Cinderella-ness of the moment. God, what would it be like for something like this to be real? To have a man like Beau Radcliffe want to put his jewels, the legacy of his family name, around your neck? To claim you and name you as his.

It was a barbaric notion, so I didn’t know why it made my stomach swoop and the place between my legs get slick. A therapist would have a field day with me, I was sure.

But then, a therapist would shit themselves if they spent even one night in this den of sin and temptation.

Tonight, I would dance the waltz while naked draped in nothing but jewels. A girl no one wanted, now the belle of some naked demented ball, on the arm of the handsomest man in the room. Oh how the world turned.

I bit my lip as Beau finished clasping the necklace, then moved on to the bracelet. “Um, about tonight.”

“Hmm?” Beau asked, absorbed in working the little clasp at my wrist.

“I don’t know how to waltz.”

He finally looked up at me, the first time he’d met my eyes since I’d come out of the bathroom. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

Beau shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh yeah? How did you learn?”

“Well, I had lessons.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, of course it seems easy to you. Reminder—not all the plebes grew up going to cotillions or whatever the hell it is rich people do so they know which fork to use and how to dance at fancy parties. The most I got is that I watched Pretty Woman a bunch and dreamed of fucking rich dudes for money.” I dramatically put my hand to my chest. “Look, wishes can come true!”