Chapter 1
Bianca
Nine Years Old
“Just answer the question, Costi.”
“No, it’s stupid.”
“It is not stupid.” His eye roll earns him a shove in the shoulder from me. “Stars do talk to us. What are they saying to you?” I ask again, glancing up at the starry sky, straining my ears to hear what they have to say tonight.
“They don’t say anything to me.”
“Constantine Gold.” I shove him again. “They speak to everyone. You just have to pay attention.”
He plucks a blade of dewy grass and twiddles it between his fingers.
I’ve known Costi since before I could ever know a person. He’s been a constant in my life since birth, always by my side, and I know he’s faking.
“Listen closely.”
He tugs his earlobes and waits a beat before his dark eyes meet mine. “Still nothing. What did they say to you?”
I giggle. “They said one day I’ll be a warrior princess with my own castle.”
Costi laughs. “Will you have a dragon? I can be your dragon slayer.” He swishes the grass at me like it’s a sword.
“You would kill the dragons?” My eyes widen at the thought of Costi hurting sweet baby dragons.
“Well, yeah. They’re dangerous, and they breathe fire.”
“Not my dragons. My dragons will be cute and cuddly.”
He laughs again. “Dragons are not cute.”
“Mine will be. And they’ll only breathe fire to toast marshmallows.”
“That’s a fairy tale. Fairy tales don’t exist.”
Costi is older than me by eleven days, but he acts like he’s an old man with worlds of knowledge. It gets on my nerves.
A cool breeze sweeps over us and the moon hides behind a cloud.
Costi scrubs at the back of his neck. “We should get going. My mother will kill us if we’re out here any later.”
I fling my body back into the thick grass, staring up at the dots of light sprinkled like glitter across the dark sky. “Not yet. Tell me what the stars say to you.”
Constantine stands, brushing loose dirt from his jeans. “They say nothing.”
“Come on, they have to say something.” I give him my best impression of a sad puppy dog.
“Fine.” He plops back to the ground, concentrating on the night sky. “If I get in trouble, I’m telling them it’s your fault I’m out here.”
I smile. “Deal.”
At that moment, Costi’s mother, Esmerelda, saunters onto the back lawn where we’ve huddled together to watch the stars in the sky.
“Constantine, your bedtime was ages ago,” she snips. “What are you doing out here?”
Costi hauls himself up at lightning speed and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Sorry, Mama. I’ll head inside.”
Esmeralda’s eyes wander over to me as I hop up from the ground. “I see you’re both up to no good.”
I cross my arms, shielding myself from her judgment. “We were just watching the stars. Listening to them.”
Esmerelda scoffs, towering over us in five-inch heels. “Stupid girl, stars don’t talk to people.”
She’s as vicious as she is tall. She reminds me of Cruella de Vil, but she’s got a classiness to her I find fascinating. One day, I hope to be as pretty.
She and my father work hand in hand, her as his assistant, ruling the Miami waterways, creating custom yachts. My nanny says they have a list of clients that would have God himself jealous of the people on it.
“Maybe not you, but they talk to me,” I mumble under my breath.
Esmeralda makes a face like she’s sucking on Sour Patch Kids candy. Then she snaps her fingers at Costi. “Go.”
He springs into action, heading up to their ginormous ocean-view house my dad rents for them. “Bye, Bianca.”
After he leaves, Esmeralda bends over so she’s nearly eye level with me. “Stop corrupting my son, or I’ll make you regret it. You’re just like your mother.” She stands to her full size. “A whore.”
Her nasty words crawl under my skin and claw at my heart. It’s not the first time I’ve heard her say this about my mom. I wasn’t sure what the word meant, so I looked it up and it’s not true.
My chin trembles, but I lift it to meet her gaze. “I’d rather be a whore than mean.”
Fire burns in her eyes and then she does something no one has ever done—she slaps me. “Don’t talk back to me.”
I rub the sting on my cheek. “Don’t lie.”
Tears stream from my eyes, and I run across the yard to my house next to hers, slamming the heavy wooden door. I sob big fat tears, wishing Mom were here to defend herself against Esmeralda’s attacks. But she’s dead. I race up the wide staircase, down the long hall, not slowing until I reach my room, where I fling myself onto the bed.
My father knocks on the door. “Bianca? Is everything ok?”
“Go away,” I shout, wishing I could tell him I hate Costi’s mother. How much I wish he’d hire any other woman in the world.
“Bianca, talk to me.” He rattles the doorknob.
“No. Go away.” I don’t know how Costi can stand to live with that woman. Sure, my mother may be a whore, but that’s nothing compared to Esmeralda being a bitch. I looked that word up too, and it’s true about her.
I bury my face in my pillow and eventually my father gives up and I hear his footsteps fade off down the hallway.
Tears soak my pillowcase until something raps against my windowpane. I climb off the bed and brush aside the pink curtain, squinting to see what’s outside in the dark.
Costi stands below my window, throwing rocks to get my attention.
I swipe away the tears I’ve cried tonight and wave to him. He points to the sky and I give him a thumb up.
He climbs up a trellis, throwing one leg over my balcony railing.
Once he’s standing beside me on the balcony, he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry about my mom.”
“Just promise me you won’t grow up to be like her.” I try to hide my tears.
“Like how?”
“Evil.”
He moves to the edge of the balcony, leaning his elbows on the railing. “I could never be like that.”
I mimic his position, looking out toward the lapping waves of the ocean in the distance. “Why is she always so mean to me?”
Costi leans up, staring at me. “I think she feels threatened because she knows one day you’re going to grow up to be the most powerful woman in Miami.”
I wave off his words. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. Because when you put your mind to something, you never quit.” He points at me. “Remember when you were determined to get Mr. Leslie’s cat out of that old tree down the block? Everyone thought you were crazy, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He laughs under his breath. “You climbed that tree and rescued that darn cat.”
“Yeah, and he scratched me for it.” I glance at my arm, where I thought for sure there’d be a scar from the cat’s claws.
“If that cat couldn’t leave his mark, then no one will be able to touch you when you’re older.”
I stare back at the ocean, mesmerized by the way the moonlight glows over the waves. “Maybe you’re right.”
Esmerelda’s claws are sharp, but they’ll never leave their mark on me.
Thirteen Years Old
Thirteen is truly an unlucky number. I’ve been this age for months and had nothing but bad luck. Costi said his mom wouldn’t be home, but of course, she is.
“What are you doing here?” she says with one hand on the door, ready to slam it in my face.
Over the years, I’ve wondered why she dislikes me so much, but can’t come up with anything conclusive. On the sly, she says nasty things to me with a razor sharp tongue, and I keep my mouth shut because I know if I tell my dad, he’ll oust her from her position in his organization. That means I’d lose Costi, so I suck it up and avoid her as much as possible.
Her eyes sweep over my blossoming body with disdain and I shrink inside my t-shirt and shorts, wishing I’d worn something that hid my new curves. Wishing my hair was sleek like hers instead of the curls that spring to life under the first drop of humidity. Wishing I wasn’t so plain.
“I stopped by to study with Costi.”
She steps onto the porch and closes the door behind her. “I think it’s time we had a heart-to-heart chat.”
That would be easier if she had a heart. “Um, ok.”
I cross my arms over my chest in case her idea of a heart-to-heart means ripping it out of my body.
“You’re not children anymore. I think you need to find other things to do besides hang out with my son. It’s best if you and Constantine do not stay joined at the hip.”
“But—”
“No buts, Bianca.” She puts on the friendly face she uses around my father, but her eyes are cold as ice. “You’re really turning into a doppelg?nger of your mother,” she muses.
“Thanks,” I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets so she can’t see them shaking.
She tilts her head, critiquing me from head to toe. “Except heavier. But you’ll lose the baby fat soon, I’m sure, dear.”
My cheeks heat and I hate I’m giving her a sign that she’s wounded me. Tears burn my throat, but I won’t cry in front of her. Dad says to never let your enemies see weakness, but he’s also scary and important, so no one messes with him.
“Why do you hate me?” I whisper.
“Go home, Bianca.” She turns and walks back inside, slamming the door behind her.
For a moment, I stare at the heavy wood door, wanting to bang on it and shout how wrong she is about everything.
But maybe she’s right. Maybe I do like Costi more than I should or is proper for friends. It’s not like it matters. He’d never be interested in me like that.
I race down the porch steps and fly across the lawn to our garage. Tears trickle like rain down my cheeks as I grab my bike and head down the long drive of our secluded property. Killian, one of my father’s bodyguards, gets to be the lucky one to tail me today. Within minutes of me turning onto the road, he’s shadowing me. Sweat from the sweltering sun mixes with more tears as I pedal the short distance to the iron gates of the cemetery. I leave my bike on the grass and sprint to the marble headstone surrounded by flowers.
I drop to my knees.
“Why did you leave?” I shout. “It’s your fault I can’t be around my best friend. It’s your fault she makes me feel uglier than I am. If you were here, she wouldn’t say those things.”
My chest heaves and guilt swallows me whole.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I didn’t mean it. I just kind of need you right now.”
I stretch out across my mother's grave, feeling comfort in the thick grass that hugs me. I’m not sure how long I lie here before a pair of Chucks walk into my line of sight.
“You ok, B?” Costi asks.
“Yeah,” I say, sitting up.
He drops down beside me. “I went looking for you as soon as Mom left, and your father’s guy said you were here.”
“You said she wouldn’t be there.”
“She stopped by to pick up some papers. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” I lie, because I don’t want to hurt him by telling him what she said. She’s his mom, and that trumps me.
Even though I wish it wouldn’t.
Costi is the most important person in my world.
“I wish I could talk to my mom,” I whisper, staring at the marble headstone.
“You can talk to me,” Costi says, nudging my shoulder.
There’s absolutely no way I can tell him Esmerelda took a shot at my weight. I pluck a blade of grass from the ground, twirling it between my fingers. “It’s fine.”
He bumps into me once more. “What would you tell your mom if she were here right now?”
I close my eyes, picturing my mother’s kind eyes, trying my best to conjure up the image of her, but it’s fading, and I forget a few details. “I’d tell her I wish she was here.”
“What else?” Costi urges.
“I don’t know. I guess I’d ask her why everyone hates me so much.”
Costi’s eyes soften. “No one hates you.”
“Your mom does. I’m not her favorite person.”
Costi places his hand on my shoulder so he can get my full attention, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Listen to me. She doesn’t know you like I do. And who cares? You’re my favorite person.”
He’s so sincere, my troubles melt away. “You’re my favorite person too.”
And I mean it with all my heart. There’s no one in this world I’d rather have at my side than Constantine Gold. My partner in crime.