"One last game with all of us. Then everyone can go back to running their empires in training." It was rare for everyone to get together, and Koda was not letting anyone leave prematurely.
"We're already playing Uno. Deal everyone in," Ji-ho ordered.
"Nah, we're playing Dare or Dollar," Koda countered.
Gigi didn't wait for a democratic solution on who should go first. She simply grabbed the bottle and spun it. Her first victim was Darla. Darla's smile was forced as she gave Gigi begging eyes, hoping she wouldn't do anything too dramatic.
"I dare you to post a makeup filter-free photo on PikFlip. Or pay up 200 million."
A few people snickered, while others rolled their eyes. It was well known that Darla was vain and curated every single image that ever touched her Instagram. Darla's heart hammered. Her eyes darted toward Brennan, her chest tightening with a sudden, sharp spike of nerves. She didn't want him—the one person here who actually saw her—to see her without her armor. Flipping her hair dramatically, she turned back to Gigi.
"I would be sexy as roadkill. You can't embarrass me," Darla said, her voice a defensive shield. "But 200 million is a drop in the bucket anyway." She opened her phone, quickly texting her family office to authorize the transfer.
Gigi smirked as her phone dinged, the sound a resounding success.
Darla gripped the bottle before spinning it. After a few rotations, it landed on Ji-ho. She racked her mind for something to use against him. Darla frowned as she felt a sharp poke in her hip, but as she looked at Nala, the other girl was looking out the window toward the yacht. It took a second, but it clicked in her mind.
"I dare you to get onto the top of the *Dark Knight* and jump into the ocean, or pay up 200 big." She had almost forgotten—he always got seasick.
"Crawl if you have to," Fuhad told Ji-ho, who hadn't moved yet.
Folding his glasses, Ji-ho handed them to his friend as he confidently strutted over to the boat. The second his foot left shore, he felt his head swim. Every step felt like he was two seconds away from vomiting. By the time he climbed on top of the railing, he didn't so much jump as lose his balance.
The moment his head broke the surface of the water, he yelled, "Pay up!" as he swam back to shore. A team of maids appeared on the deck as if from thin air, unfolding thick, heated cashmere blankets to swaddle him the moment he stepped off the ladder.
Inside, Nala's gaze was glued to the glass. As Ji-ho emerged, his white linen shirt clung to the hard lines of his chest and stomach, translucent and dripping. She was transfixed, her breath hitching.
"Careful, Nala," Darla whispered, leaning in with a sharp grin. "You'll fog up the glass." Nala ducked her head, rushing back to the cushions in embarrassment.
As the group moved back from the window to their plush cushions, Darla shifted. She bypassed her original seat and claimed Daya's cushion. She was only three spots away from Brennan now.
As the game went on and more bets were made and dares were accepted, the group laughed at how they used lifelong knowledge against each other to make minuscule amounts of money.
"This is absolutely insane," Brennan said, whispering into Vivian's ear.
"Don't worry, no one will ask you to do something crazy." She didn't mind paying for anything that he couldn't do; she wouldn't let her friends fleece him.
"Convince a girl in this circle to kiss you. Or pay up half a billion," Mimi said. She pulled a small microfiber cloth—the corner embroidered with a delicate, silver MC—and polished her lenses before nestling them back on the bridge of her nose.
Gunner couldn't imagine why Mimi would ask him something so provocative. As Ji-ho sat down, his head snapped in Gunner's direction. He would kill Gunner if he touched his sister, Himari. Seeing the look on his face, Ming reached over and pulled Himari's cushion from next to Gunner's abandoned spot until she was wedged firmly between him and Ji-ho. Himari pursed her lips, rolling her eyes at her brothers' territorial display.
"Do not touch my sister," Ming said.
Fuhad glared at Gunner, warning him away from his sister. "I will kill you."
"Only in your dreams," Gigi laughed.
"Eww," Natalia grimaced. The idea of kissing her brother was repugnant.
"I'm married," Carrie said, pointing at Vivian and Daya. Daya let out a small, strangled sound and physically slid backward on the rug, her hands up as if to ward off a curse.
Kneeling in the center of the circle, Gunner's large, calloused palm eclipsed Vivian's delicate ankle. He claimed her, drawing her in slowly and deliberately across the rug.
Laughter bubbled up her throat at the absurdity of it all. He didn't even ask; didn't even try to convince her. He simply turned his cheek. As all their friends watched, she kissed his cheek. There was no reason for her blush to be so deep, but it made her feel giddy in a way that didn't make sense. She slowly slid herself back to her spot, her eyes lingering on Gunner's before she quickly looked away, unable to hold his intense gaze.
"Okay, Alpha."
"Safe choice."
"Boo! That's not a kiss."
"Why would you do that?" Vivian said quietly to Mimi. Her mind was swimming with thoughts, and they all centered around one man.
"I thought he would pay up. I bet Gigi my island that he would," Mimi complained.
Brennan looked away, his jaw tight. He watched the shadows on the wall, jealousy a bitter coat in his throat. Gunner didn't have to use words; he just acted, and Vivian followed. Searching for his own distraction, Brennan opened his emails. He noticed he'd missed a message from his agent. It's official, you are the new face of Rook. He saw the figure for the campaign—a number that, hours ago, would have felt like a life-changing triumph. Now, looking at the billions being tossed around, it felt like nothing.
When Vivian spun the bottle, she was exceedingly generous. It landed on Daya. She told her to win at rock-paper-scissors or pay up ten grand. Unlike the rest of them, Vivian was on a pretty strict allowance; she didn't even have access to her full trust fund. Unfortunately, Daya lost. When the transfer notification came to her phone, Vivian denied it. Daya caught her eye and mouthed a silent, desperate Thank you. Daya did not want to explain this to her parents.
Instead of the expected ping they had all grown used to, Darla's phone erupted into a poignant, authoritative ringing. The sound caught everyone off guard.
"It's my mother," Darla whispered, her face pale. She stood and left the circle, resigned to the scolding to come.
When she returned from her call, Darla sat directly beside Brennan. She glanced at his phone screen, noticing the email.
"Congratulations," she said softly. "This is really cool. I appreciate any chance to see you on my screen."
Though earlier in the night he was off-put by her energy, at this moment her words were a soothing balm to his increasingly crushed ego.
"You're really sweet. Thank you," Brennan said. "I suddenly feel better." They shared a quiet look, a moment of stillness that felt like a sudden, unvoiced possibility.
Brennan's heart stilled as the bottle landed on him. Staring across the circle at Ming, he wondered what the man would make him do.
"That piece of art," Gunner said, pointing to a minimalist sculpture. "Break it."
Fist-bumping Gunner, Ming pointed at Brennan in approval. "Yeah, or cough up... two million." He knew Brennan wasn't rich and, in a bid of kindness, he opted for something far more reasonable.
"I mean, you can't just break things!" Brennan was painfully aware that he could not afford anything in this villa.
Vivian rolled her eyes, picked up the piece of art, and smashed it on the ground before Brennan could even move.
"It's a lose-lose," Carrie laughed. "If you break it, you buy it."
"At least play fair!" Vivian groaned. She could already hear her father's scathing voice when he got the bill.
They were going pretty hard at Vivian's guest tonight, so Fuhad wanted to give her a break. "Don't worry about the sculpture."
"I gave it to you," Gigi sneered.
"I didn't break it," Fuhad shrugged.
As the two began to argue, Gunner pushed himself up from the floor and headed to the bar. Vivian slipped away to speak to him. Away from the group, Vivian leaned against the wood.
"What's going on...?" She trailed off, not really knowing what to say first.
Gunner swirled his bourbon, his eyes glassy. "What are your plans, Vivian? For the future?"
"Is there something going on there?" Ji-ho asked the circle.
"No way," Koda scoffed. "They'd kill each other in a week."
Everyone turned to Natalia. She gave a delicate wave of her hand as if brushing a speck of dust from the air. "I don't speak for my brother," she said simply. Internally, she was praying there was nothing going on, but she knew Gunner didn't pay attention to anyone for no reason.
Shoving past her protective guards, Himari spun the bottle, their chatter drifting elsewhere. But Brennan's eyes remained fixed on the bar. He found himself wondering, for the first time: did she think Gunner was good enough?
Vivian looked at Gunner, convinced he was just spouting drunk nonsense. "What are yours?" she countered. Gunner didn't answer; he just raised a dark brow, his gaze heavy and demanding. Marrying you, he thought. And she kept trying to take the glass from his hand.
Vivian groaned, her shoulders sagging as he finally relinquished his glass. She moved it out of his reach and grabbed a water, twisting the cap off for him.
"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm sure my parents have it all planned out, like all of ours do. We don't exactly get to make our own plans, Gunner."
He stepped into her personal space, his large frame looming over her. The cold bottle pressed against his chest soothingly as he searched her gaze. He reached out, guiding her tighter into his chest. His muscular arms wrapped firmly around her waist, shielding her from the room. As he did, she instinctively squeezed the open bottle; the moisture seeped between them. She remained locked in the moment as he untied the sleeves of his jacket from around her waist. He claimed the garment, his warmth fleeting as he released her.
"See you around, V," he said, pulling the jacket back on. He turned to the room, raising a hand in a brief farewell before stumbling toward the door.
Brennan sat on the rug, watching Vivian at the bar as she stared at the empty space Gunner had occupied. Carrie leaned toward him one last time.
"Westbrooks never lose."
"What's your problem with me?" Brennan snapped.
"Nothing at all," Carrie replied. "Her life is hard enough without having to defend a doomed relationship for the next ten years. You don't meet the basic requirements. It's not an insult. Just a reality."