Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
The Steele house is packed.
Not just full. Packed.
Bodies everywhere, voices rising and clashing with the music playing through hidden speakers.
Laughter rolls across the wide marble foyer and spills into every corner of the ground floor.
There’s someone on every stair, every couch, leaning against the frame of every ridiculously tall window. The place feels alive.
And, of course, it looks perfect.
Wreaths hang from every wall sconce. A twelve-foot pine tree, strung with golden lights and cream ribbon, stands in the corner of the grand sitting room, glittering faintly. Every surface shines. A garland wraps around the staircase, with velvet bows tucked between silver baubles.
Waiters in crisp black uniforms move through the crowd, holding trays with glasses of champagne, sparkling cider, and other drinks I can’t identify. There’s even a full buffet set up in the east lounge, under a chandelier dripping in crystals.
“Okay,” Bea mutters, eyes wide as we step through the doors, and pass through security. “This is… absurd.”
“This is the Steeles,” Lilia replies dryly, straightening the strap of her dress. “They don’t do anything half-hearted.”
I barely hear them. The sheer number of people is overwhelming. I don’t even think they’re all students. There are definitely some teachers and parents milling around too. Maybe, even press.
“New hair?”
The voice that cuts in is smooth, and curious. We turn to find Christian approaching us, a drink in one hand, the other tucked casually into the pocket of his navy trousers.
He stops a few feet from me, his gaze flicking to my hair.
“Looks good,” he adds, almost offhand.
I nod, smiling faintly. “Thanks. It was overdue.”
“Agreed,” Lilia says, shooting me a smug look.
Christian laughs. “Didn’t peg you for the dramatic makeover type, Ross.”
“Didn’t peg you for the unsolicited commentary type, Ryder.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Touché.”
Before I can say anything else, another voice cuts in. “Oh god, don’t tell me this is what I’ve walked into.”
Liam. Of course.
He slips in beside Bea with an easy grin and not a hint of shame. His tie is already loose, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
Bea groans. “You again?”
“I’m the best part of your evening and you know it.”
“You’re barely the best part of this conversation,” she mutters, already turning her attention back to her drink.
Liam only smirks, undeterred. His eyes flick to the rest of us, and land, unsurprisingly, on Kym.
“You clean up nice,” he says, nudging her gently with his elbow.
Kym blinks at him. Flat. Unimpressed. “Did you want something?”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “Maybe just your attention for more than three seconds. Is that too much to ask?”
“Go away,” she says without missing a beat.
Lilia bites back a laugh beside me, and Christian just sips his drink, watching the exchange.
Liam leans in slightly toward Kym, lowering his voice. “One day, I’m going to make you smile. Properly.”
Kym stares at him with no hint of amusement. “What is wrong with you?”
Liam tilts his head and seems to actually consider that question. “Alphabetically or chronologically?”
Christian lets out a soft snort behind the rim of his glass, and Lilia chokes on her drink from next to me.
“God,” Bea mutters. “Do you hear yourself?”
“I try not to,” Liam says brightly.
Kym turns to me. “You’re seriously friends with him? Why?”
Liam presses a hand to his chest like he’s wounded. “I bring light and joy into your lives and this is the thanks I get?”
“You bring noise and trauma,” Kym deadpans.
“I can do both.”
“Unfortunately,” Christian says under his breath, and Bea actually laughs.
“Okay, okay,” Lilia says, stepping between them before Liam can fire off another line. “We’re not doing this all night. Has anyone actually seen the ballroom yet?”
“Ballroom?” I echo.
Lilia gives me a look like I just told her I’d never heard of Christmas. “Yes, Addie. It’s a Christmas party. There is a literal ballroom. Dancing. Music. The whole thing.”
“Wait,” I say slowly. “We have to dance?”
“You don’t have to,” Bea says, finishing the last of her drink. “But you will. It’s tradition. The Steeles go full Regency-era every year. It’s actually kind of amazing.”
“There’s a live quartet,” Christian adds, more casually, sipping from his own glass. “Gabriel doesn’t do playlists.”
“And the room is huge,” Lilia says. “And stupidly gorgeous. You’ll see.”
“I’ll pass on that, thanks,” Kym says flatly.
Liam grins at her. “So that’s a no if I ask?”
She looks him dead in the eye. “I’d rather dance with a brick wall.”
“To be fair,” he says, unbothered, “I’ve got slightly more charm than that. And marginally better footwork.”
“Only marginally,” Christian mutters.
Lilia loops her arm through mine and tugs me away, toward the wide archway that leads to the ballroom. “Come on,” she says with a grin. “You’re about to be very impressed.”
***
The lights inside the Steele house ballroom are warm and golden, and everything sparkles. From the chandelier overhead to the champagne flutes catching reflections off the marble floor.
We step in slowly, the music is low and orchestral, and voices rise and fall like waves around us.
“I feel underdressed,” Bea mutters, tugging at the hem of her dress.
“You’re not,” Lilia says, adjusting her earrings. “You could never be.”
Christian hums in agreement beside me, and I almost turn to him in shock before Liam reappears before we’ve moved ten feet in.
Before anyone can stop him, he’s grinning and offering Kym a hand. “Come on, Spooky. Dance floor. Now.”
Kym blinks. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t dance,” she replies flatly.
“I’ll lead,” Liam says, already tugging her toward the centre of the room.
Her eyes go wide. “Liam—”
He’s gone, dragging her along, and the rest of us are left watching, vaguely stunned.
Lilia snorts. “He’s going to lose a finger.”
My eyes drift past the crowd, landing on familiar red hair. Ajax, who unlike last time, doesn’t spare me a glance. He looks happy, though. With the usual company.
But naturally, almost instinctively, my gaze moves toward the far end of the room where Kai is.
He’s leaning against one of the high-backed chairs, half turned toward a group of girls.
They’re laughing at something he’s said, heads tilted, eyes bright.
He’s not laughing though, just smirking faintly, effortlessly magnetic in that way only he can be.
Effortlessly put on.
“Jealous?” a voice asks, too close to my ear.
I turn to find Will there, drink in hand.
“I’m not,” I say, but it comes out sharper than intended.
He doesn’t blink. “You should be. He’s very pretty.”
I frown. “Aren’t you supposed to be his friend?”
Will sighs. “We’ve never needed a label for it.”
I study him, trying to decipher what’s real and what’s just for show. With Will, it’s hard to tell.
Still, I nod, letting it go for now. But something itches at the back of my mind.
I glance toward the other side of the room where Kai is still standing, laughing at something one of the girls says, but there’s something vacant about it. Like he’s present and somewhere else entirely at the same time.
“Is he okay?” I ask, quieter this time. “Kai?”
Will downs the last of his drink, sets the empty glass on a passing tray, and then finally glances at me with something almost… tired in his eyes.
“Between us?” he says, leaning in close. “I don’t think he’s been okay a day in his life.”
And then, without waiting for a reply, he spins on his heel and makes his way over to Lilia.
He reaches past me, grabs Lilia’s wrist, and pulls her toward the open space near the dance floor.
“What are you—” she starts.
“Dance with me,” Will says. “I promise to behave terribly.”
Lilia groans. “This is going to end badly.”
“Even better.”
And just like that, they’re gone too, swallowed by the music and the gold of the room.
Bea’s stares at them. “Did I just see Lilia willingly dance with Will Carson?”
“You did,” I say, half-smiling. “And I think she might even be enjoying it.”
She hums. “That’s deeply concerning.”
But even as I watch them, my gaze keeps drifting back, across the room, through the crowd, to the boy who hasn’t looked my way again.
Kai still stands where I last saw him, though the girls around him are different now. New faces. Same smile.
And maybe Will’s right.
Maybe Kai Oren Steele has never been okay a day in his life.
But god—he’s good at pretending.
I suppose it must come naturally by now. After so long. After all the headlines and spotlights and stories written by strangers who never really knew him.
But behind the photos and red carpets, there was a kid. Not a star. Not a brand. Just a little kid who didn’t get to be little for very long.
And even when I’ve been furious with him—truly, heartbreakingly furious—I think a small part of me always felt sorry for that version of him.
The one nobody saw.
The one who got left behind.
He’s laughing again now. Or at least, he’s doing something that looks like laughing. One of the girls touches his arm. He lets her.
I look away.
“Come on,” Bea says beside me, nudging gently. “Let’s go find Kym before Liam convinces her to marry him or something.”
But I don’t even get the chance to nod.
A voice that’s low and quiet and unmistakably his, speaks from just behind my shoulder.
“Dance with me.”
I turn. Kai stands there, hands in his pockets, looking somehow even more tired than before up close. Pale. Bruised under the eyes. He looks almost… unwell.
I glance at Bea. Then Christian.
Bea lifts her brows and gives me a single, smug nod, but Christian, on the other hand, watches Kai closely. Warily. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze shifts to mine.
I swallow and turn back to Kai. “Why?”