Xander: Helen of Troy Retelling

Prologue

Karens ignore trigger warnings, only to complain about said warnings. Don”t be a Karen, and please heed our warnings. This Helen of Troy retelling is for readers who want to explore their fantasies in a safe space. The book contains reverse age gap, non-consensual sex, birth control manipulation, domestic abuse, and other dark themes. Whether you consider this dark or a breezy read, please exercise good judgment in real life by differentiating fiction from reality.

Xander

“You will marrythe most beautiful woman on earth,” Sophie decreed, circling me with an iPad and spouting premonitions like a modern-day oracle. “I grant thee this simple gift.”

“What?” No part of her sentence made sense, but I had also joined the conversation somewhat belatedly.

I arrived late to my father’s engagement party. It wasn’t ideal, as I was already on thin ice for evading my soon-to-be stepmother. Dad made it mandatory to attend this party, and Henry Maxwell was hardly the man you wanted to piss off.

I had marched up the stairs of my childhood home, feet pounding against the marble steps in my attempt to blend in with the other late arrivals. My mood had soured upon noticing the small touches of my mother had been erased. There used to be a resin bowl fountain on the terrace and an oversized blue vase. Despite my parents’ divorce, those items had remained intact for years. But now, my soon-to-be stepmother was redecorating the house and expunging my mother’s presence.

Whatever. I needed to get through the night, ignore this gold-digging succubus, and return to my life. How difficult could it be?

After a quick inventory of the guests, I spotted my cousin Caden and my younger brother Jasper. They stood beside Sophie, our infamously brazen childhood friend. Within seconds of my arrival, she had declared I was destined to marry the most beautiful woman on earth.

“Hello to you too, Sophie.”

“You’re late,” admonished Jasper, his voice as gravelly as an old man’s despite being only sixteen. The similarities between us have always spooked people. We were born three years apart with the same inky-black hair, and at six-foot-two, he was almost as tall as me. His evergreen eyes even mirrored my lousy mood.

“I know,” I grumbled.

“He’s already chewed me out for no reason,” he muttered quietly through gritted teeth. It was evident he hadn’t wanted to attend the wedding festivities but had been summoned home from boarding school. “Asshole.”

I shot Jasper a warning look. “Don’t let him get to you. Remember—we can only control our reactions, not his actions.” I had instilled this mantra in him since he was a kid.

Jasper pulled a face in response. He was reactive, and my father was egotistical. It was a lethal combination. He couldn’t control his sharp tongue in front of Dad, resulting in countless spats, with Jasper always on the losing end.

Eager to change the topic, I squinted at the iPad in Sophie’s hand. “Someone fill me in. What are we talking about?”

“Damon sent us a link to an app this afternoon—an algorithm to compute ideal beauty per scientific standards.” Sophie held up the device clasped in her hands. “This can measure the facial features people find aesthetically pleasing, such as full lips and symmetrical button noses, then calculate what percentage of a person’s face corresponds to those ideal proportions. Brilliant, right? It’s Caden’s latest creation.”

I glanced at my cousin. Our fathers were twins and business partners at a tech company, which amassed their fortune. My uncle had a pair of twins of his own, Caden and Damon.

The four of us played a role in their business, primarily by making public appearances, though Jasper frequently defied Dad’s wishes. I mediated to coax my brother into playing ball with our asshole father. Otherwise, I had no interest in the family business. Damon had been groomed to take over their tech empire and couldn’t attend tonight due to a project. His twin Caden was a mad scientist with numerous patents to his name.

In contrast with Caden’s usual original innovations, this new venture fell short because this technology already existed. Not wanting to burst Sophie’s bubble, I responded with a noncommittal, “Impressive.”

“I’ll use this app to find you the most beautiful woman on earth,” she declared with an enthusiastic grin. “Because you never think anyone’s pretty.”

I laughed, not agreeing or disagreeing with her. In the past, I’d been accused of being too picky. I didn’t care if someone was a model or was considered beautiful by others. They had to appeal to me, and most women simply didn’t. “What’s the app called?”

“Golden Apple. Here.” She extended the tablet to Caden. “Why don’t you do the honors and do a demonstration for Xander?” she suggested.

Caden was far removed from this conversation, refusing to dig his hands out of his pockets. “No,” he answered curtly, annoyed.

“Don’t mind him. He is like a tortured artist who hates his own creations,” Sophie jested before unlocking the iPad and tilting it so I could see the screen. “Just open the app, tap the camera icon, and hold it over someone’s face.” She put the camera in mirror mode so it could scan her face. “Then wait for the app to calculate.”

The loading symbol popped up as the app analyzed her face, then spat out 91 percent. The words “Goddess Athena” flashed across the screen.

Jasper whistled appreciatively. “Not bad, Sophs.”

My brows raised. “Goddess?”

Sophie did a happy dance. “If someone’s features fall within the 90th–100th percentile range, they reach goddess status because it’s super rare.” She beamed before adding, “I’m a goddess, bitches. Bow down.”

It was apparent that Sophie had already tested the app and knew her results. The live demo was merely an excuse to flaunt her status.

Internally scoffing at the ridiculously shallow app, I turned to Caden. “I’m shocked you agreed to make this app.”

Caden was our own Frankenstein, who ran a university lab, conducting questionable experiments and drug trials. He often ignored the university’s requests to undertake profitable ventures, but they couldn’t fire him since he was a rising star in science who brought them funding and attention. Giving in to their demands was contrary to his usual behavior.

Caden resignedly looked up at the skies as if regretting his life choices. “Don’t remind me. The university demanded an invention with commercial value to fund the new lab. And that app will generate a lot of money.”

“Sure. But did you have to assign a stupid status?” The pressure to meet an arbitrary status set a terrible precedent. One might accuse Caden of being eccentric, but he was a respectable, bona fide scientist. I assumed he’d hold himself above trivial, superficial matters.

Caden caught the expression I wore and felt the need to distance himself from something he deemed a cheap party trick. “Damon installed all that crap to mainstream the app—something fun for superficial idiots.” He scantly regarded Sophie, the insinuation clear.

Sophie was riding high from her results and either didn’t notice his jab or didn’t care. “There are also tiers within the goddess status. The percentage ranges correspond to the different levels, each named after a Greek goddess known for her beauty. Those over 90 percent are Athena while 95–99 percent are Hera.”

“What if someone is a 100 percent match for all the features considered perfect?” Jasper asked.

“Aphrodite,” came Caden’s brief answer.

My head tilted with curiosity.

“If someone hits 100 percent, they’d be declared Aphrodite,” Caden drawled, the explanation seeming trite. “It’s unattainable because perfection doesn’t exist. According to another study conducted by more vain idiots, the closest anyone has come to it is Jodie Comer at 94 percent.”

“Who?” My pop culture knowledge was lacking as both names drew a blank.

“Actress,” Caden replied disdainfully.

Sophie stared at me incredulously. “Do you live under a rock? Hello! Jodie Comer from Killing Eve? She is fantastic.”

“Also considered the most beautiful woman on earth.” Caden didn’t sound impressed, only factual.

“If Jodie Comer’s rating is 94 percent, that means the perfect woman hasn’t been discovered yet.” Jasper sounded intrigued.

“All of New York is attending this party,” Sophie piped in enthusiastically, gesturing at the guests filing onto the lawn. “Maybe we’ll discover Aphrodite tonight.”

Caden scowled, frustrated that his explanation held no weight. “Stop taking this seriously,” he scolded. “Beauty is, and will always be, subjective. Eye of the beholder and all that crap. So, look through your damn eyes instead of through this dumb lens.”

The profound words from our resident cynic surprised me but didn’t deter Sophie. “We’ll hold this over everyone’s face tonight and see who is the fairest of all,” she told Jasper.

Sophie and Jasper pointed the iPad at unsuspecting guests. I rolled my eyes at them while Caden looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

As the evening progressed, Sophie and Jasper’s search for Aphrodite lost its initial fervor. They abandoned the iPad at the terrace bar and migrated inside with the rest of the guests.

While others were happy to escape the oppressive summer heat, I remained on the terrace. The bar inside was packed, whereas this one was relatively quiet.

Bored, I unlocked the iPad and tinkered with the app. Holding my drink in one hand, I distractedly skimmed over the attendants on the terrace through the camera lens.

83 percent.

58 percent.

73 percent.

The tablet suddenly froze. The drink in my hand unintentionally paused mid-sip as well.

Sun.

Blue sky.

Those two thoughts were at the forefront of my mind as the app scanned the face that had popped up on the screen. The bright loading icon symbol spun furiously for what felt like an eternity before spitting out the results—100 percent—answering the divisive question from this evening: Does perfection exist?

The magical words everyone had been hunting appeared across the screen like a prophecy.

GODDESS APHRODITE!