“Here, take this.”

I look up to find Zeke standing above me holding a computer keyboard. We’d just spent the last several hours going over my training. The job doesn’t seem all that difficult. Just answer the phones, set up meetings, and give Zeke any important messages that come through. His office is on the top floor of Belmont Tower, just underneath the penthouse level. I will operate from there and build my work schedule around my classes.

“I don’t care when you’re here, just as long as you clock in at least thirty hours a week,” Zeke says. “That’s the minimum amount of I could convince them for the salary you asked for.”

The warm smile stretches across my face. It feels so good to have a salary again. “I can do that,” I say. “No problem.” I lay the keyboard down and sit back in my new swivel chair. I prop my feet up on the desk and stare out the window into the dark night sky, flooding with lights from the city. “I can definitely do that.”

Zeke scoffs and moves a box from the floor to the desk. “Start putting all of this stuff away. Wherever you want it is fine.”

I sit up and open the box. It’s stuffed to the brim with reams of paper, staples, pens, and other office supplies. “You guys don’t do this stuff digitally?”

“Mason Belmont?” Zeke laughs. “Of course not. They’ll be stuck in the dark ages until he dies or retires, neither of which seems likely anytime soon.”

“Are you look forward to it?” I ask. “Taking over the business, I mean…”

“I don’t know,” he says as he pushes a file cabinet against the wall. The metal scrapes along the floor, leaving a string of shivers toying up my spine. “I’ve never really wanted it, but I’m the only man in line.”

“What about Becky?” I ask as I dump a load of pens into a drawer.

“Never in a million years,” he says. “Dad’s not big on letting women above the ground floor.”

I shrug my shoulders, memories of my stepfather’s selfishness spinning in my mind. “That sounds about right.”

“But I know she wants it,” Zeke says. “She’s far more ambitious than I am.”

Becky Belmont. The princess of the Belmont family. We got along, at first. Both of us were just so happy to have a sister. But then Becky’s callous, backstabbing nature finally matured and I cut all ties to her along with the rest of the Belmont clan.

“You’ll see her on Saturday.”

I pause and turn around in my chair, pushing it with my toes to face him. “Saturday?”

“Yep.”

“What’s happening on Saturday?”

“The annual Mason Belmont birthday celebration, of course.”

“Wait — you’re not expecting me to go to that…” I feel a surge of regret for ever taking this job.

Zeke steps toward the desk and leans over me, inching closer to my face. “Consider it a business obligation.”

“No, no, no, Zeke — please, no…” I try to climb out of the large chair, but Zeke cuts off my escape. He places both hands on the armrest, locking me in place, hovering above my small frame. My heart freezes in my chest, my emotions yank me in multiple directions. “I made a huge change just agreeing to work for you but I can’t take an entire night surrounded by Belmonts. Nope. No.”

“It won’t be a big deal,” Zeke claims. It annoys me how amused he looks. “Just show up, throw on a smile, shake Daddy’s hand, have a slice of cake, and then go home. It’ll be easy.”

I sigh. Nothing is easy when the Belmont family is involved.

“Let me ask you something, Rocky,” Zeke says, leaning back. He plants himself on the edge of the desk in front of me and holds his thick arms around his chest. His biceps bulge as he moves and my eyes bounce from arm to arm. “Why do you hate us so much?”

Where do I even start?

I bite my lips, torn over what to say. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’ve genuinely enjoyed the last few days with him. Maybe he’s not nearly as bad as I always assumed he was. But that can’t be true about the rest of the Belmonts.

“I don’t know…” I say, glancing at the floor. “I just don’t like how you act, that’s all.”

“How we act?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. A look of amusement dances on his face. “How’s that?”

“Like you own the world and everyone in it.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that?” I chuckle to myself. “Your delusion is very real.”

“We have money,” Zeke states. “Power. Privilege. And an endless supply of all of it. A supply that you yourself have benefited from in the past and your mother continues to do so.”

“Leave her alone,” I warn.

“Oh, please. Do you have any idea what they said to my father before he married her?”

I pause, waiting for him to answer his own question.

“They said, don’t do it, Mason. She’s just a gold-digging whore from the city. I thought so, too.”

“Shut up.”

But Zeke continues, leaning forward, his eyes boring down on me. “But he ignored them. He took you two from nothing and gave you everything. Some would say you owe him for that.”

“I don’t owe him a damn thing.”

“Fine, but don’t pretend like we’re just a bunch of selfish rich people who never think of others.” He sits back. “My father tied his life to your mother’s. And hell, when you asked me for help, I gave you a job.”

“Okay, fine! I get it. I’ll go to the damn birthday party.” I spit the words out as if they were acid.

Zeke stands up. “Thank you. Meet me here at eight and we’ll go together.”

“I’ll just meet you there—”

“Rocky,” he interrupts. “Meet me here.”

* * *

Saturday night. I think of all the things I’d rather be doing than going to my stepfather’s birthday party. The list includes being strapped to a chair and tortured to death while dunking my hands in an aquarium full of piranhas.

“Honey, I am so glad you’re coming tonight!” my mother purrs into the phone. “I just can’t wait to tell everyone that you’re coming back!”

I cringe. “I’m not coming back, Mom,” I say, looking myself up and down in the spotted mirror at my apartment. I wear a pair of black slacks and an old, white blouse — literally the nicest clothing I currently own. “It’s business.”

“I told you your brother would give you a job,” my mother says. “Do you like it so far?”

“It’s fine. I have to get going. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Do not be late, Rockette,” she warns. “I have people I want to introduce you to.”

I hang up the phone and stare at my reflection for a few more moments. I think long and hard about what Zeke said the other day. Maybe I have been too hard on the Belmont family. They took me and my mother in when we had nothing and gave us a home. I went to a good, private high school, which directly influenced me getting into the university of my choice. Am I being too naive by cutting them out of my life completely? I absolutely hate the idea of taking something I did not earn, but maybe I can cut them a little more slack for a while.

“Hey, Ramone!”

I pause just outside my door. “Marty!” I force enthusiasm as I spot my landlord charging up the stairs toward me. “I was just about to come and find you!”

“Oh? Was it to give me the rent you owe?”

I smile and fix my eyes on the small, rotund man. “Actually, I was going to tell you that I just got a job. A really good one and I should have the money for you very, very soon.”

“I don’t know, Ramone,” Marty starts. “I just don’t think this is—”

“Marty, come on. I promise.” I step away from the door. “I’ll have the money real soon, okay?”

I bolt past him, ignoring the sound of his voice attempting to argue with me. I can feel his eyes following me down the stairs as I run down to street level.

I catch a cab downtown to Belmont Tower. It’s nearly eight in the evening and the cold air chills my nervous body. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my blood shooting through my body. I scratch at my arms, feeling the bugs crawling beneath my skin. A cold dread follows me the entire time, but I try to ignore it.

“Good evening, Ms. Ramone.” The doorman greets me with a smile. “Mr. Belmont is expecting you upstairs.”

“Thank you, Quincy,” I say as he opens the door for me. I’d been in and out of this hotel multiple times this week, but I still feel painfully out of place. It’s Saturday night and the lobby is packed with people. A private party is being held behind the large, golden doors at the other end of the entrance hall. A large man with a clipboard guards the doors, only allowing those lucky enough to be on his list inside. I slip past the fray and board the elevator. No matter how many times I climb this thing, my stomach always churns with each passing floor.

I reach the penthouse and knock on the door. After a few moments, Zeke answers. My breath catches in my lungs as I look at him. He’s dressed in a bold, black tuxedo with an untied bow tie lying about his neck.

“You’re early,” he says, his fingers adjusting his collar.

“Most people would see that as a good thing,” I say as I step inside.

“It is. Go to the bedroom.”

“What?” I ask, my cheeks feeling warm and pink.

“Your dress is hanging on the back of the door. The shoes are on the bed.”

“My what? I’m already dressed…” I say, gesturing to my outfit.

“Yeah, I figured,” Zeke says. His fingers move quickly as he wraps the tie around his neck and ties it into a perfect bow. “That’s why I asked you to meet me here.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” I say.

Zeke chuckles. “Just go throw it on. I’m pretty sure it’ll fit.”

There’s no point in arguing. I do as requested and step into the hallway. “Which room?” I call out.

“Last on the left.”

I continue walking, making note of each room as I glide past the open doorways. A bathroom on the right. A fitness room to the left. All the way down until I come to the end of the hall. The bedroom door is wide open and I step inside. Once again, a room greets me that looks like it was torn out of a catalog. Paintings hang on every wall. Books line the shelves, most of which appear very used, their spines showing multiple creases. His king-sized bed is cloaked with a shiny, black duvet and satin sheets to match.

A black box a little smaller than a shoe box catches my eye, sitting on his nightstand. I recognize it immediately. It was a gift from his mother, his real mother. Zeke always told me not to touch it. I once asked him what he kept inside it. He looked at the floor and said, ‘my darkest secret.’

The black box is locked shut with a padlock. I stare at it, my mind buzzing with possibilities.

“Find it?”

I jump at the sudden sound of his voice, calling from down the hall. “Yep!” I answer.

I look behind the door to find the dress. It’s a delightful shade of sapphire blue and perfectly elegant in every way. The first sight of it takes my breath away. The black rock that settled in my gut the day I took this job grows two more sizes. I don’t want to put it on out of principle. But I know that I’ll never be able to help myself.

I unbutton my blouse and strip naked in the empty room. Zeke must have an eye for sizes. I step into the dress and it hugs my body as I pull it up over my shoulders. I step away from the door and stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and stare at myself.

I never thought I’d come back to this, I thought to myself. The world of cocktail parties and trust funds.

“That’s more like it.”

My heart flutters at the sound of his voice. Zeke steps into the room, his eyes glued to my body.

“You were right,” I say, looking at his reflection. “It fits.”

Zeke steps behind me, his hands rushing toward my back. “Just one more thing…”

The gentle buzz of the zipper shoots up my back like an easy chill. The dress clings to me tighter but still seduces my curves.

“Perfect,” he says, his hands landing on my shoulders. “I’d call someone up about your hair, but we’re a little short on time…”

“My hair is fine,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure it is,” he says with a devilish smirk. “Let’s get going. Don’t forget the shoes.”

* * *

“Rockette, you look wonderful!”

My mother pulls me into her arms and I immediately feel the struggle to breathe. “Hi — Mom —” I squeak out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zeke’s grin and shoot him a cold stare.

The ballroom is decorated in gold — always gold at a Belmont party — and is packed from wall-to-wall with Mason Belmont’s closest confidants and business associates. I recognize a few faces right off the bat but most blur into the crowd.

“Zeke,” my mother looks at him as she breaks our hug. “Thank you for getting her here.”

“It was my pleasure, Gloria,” he says as he scoops her hand and plants a kiss on her fingers.

“I don’t like this,” I say.

“Don’t like what, dear?” my mother asks.

“I don’t like the two of you in cahoots.”

My mother bursts into laughter. She arches her back with exaggerated flair. “Oh, Rockette, leave your paranoia at the door, please. For heaven’s sake, this is a party.”

“Yeah, Rockette,” Zeke chimes in. “Lighten up.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.

My mother moves around me and intertwines her arm with mine. “Now, come with me. I have some people I want to introduce you to…”

“Have fun, Rocky,” Zeke whispers in my ear.

I look over my shoulder at him as she pulls me into the crowd. I feel a desperate need to escape, a childish urge to reach out to him in the hope that he pulls me to safety.

But my heart sinks as I see a pretty young woman step up behind him. Long, brown hair. Stunning blue eyes. A gorgeous, green dress that puts my own to shame. She throws her hands over his eyes in a playful game of Guess Who.

Zeke smiles and she greets him with a kiss.