Prologue

Snow

R ap music blasts through the speakers as I lean against the fireplace with a glass of scotch in my hand. My friends and I are hosting a party at our mansion.

I hate parties.

The music is too loud.

People talk entirely too much, and I'm miserable as hell.

I smooth out the bloodred tie around my neck, flatten out my tailor-made suit, then I sip on Jack Daniel's, ignoring the burning sensation in my throat.

I spot a dude receiving head in the corner of my kitchen and two women making out on the suede couch. These types of parties turn into a big-ass orgy.

I polish off the last bit of my drink, then I set the crystal glass on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

My best friend, Keanu, pats me on the back with one hand, a bottle in the other.

After he sips his beer, he sets it on the mantel next to mine, then he combs his fingers through his dyed bright red hair. "When are the strippers arriving? I'm ready to get my dick sucked."

He gives out too much information, but he has always been the type to overshare. We've been friends since middle school and he's going to work with me as the CFO of the American Billionaire Club after graduation. There are going to be four of us who will run the club.

I shake my head as my mouth twitches. "I have no idea."

Moments later, a dozen women wearing close to nothing stroll inside, smiling and giggling. I eye Keanu, and he smirks like the Cheshire cat. "That's what I'm talking about."

He strides to a woman wearing blue lingerie, and he whispers in her ear.

When my eyes hover at the front entrance, I spot Lyrical and Bailey at the archway.

What are they doing here?

I told them not to show up, because the men here are dangerous. I don't want any of these bastards to try to bone them, especially Lyrical.

They are always getting themselves into bullshit and I'm the one bailing them out. Last year, they got into trouble at North Haven University for streaking, sprinting around campus while high on weed.

I had to write a fat check to the dean so he wouldn't expel them from college.

Bailey is a handful. Sometimes, I have to act like her father rather than her brother. It's exhausting to keep an eye out on her. If I didn't, my father would blow a gasket and he'll blame me for her behavior.

I spot Lyrical strolling in the kitchen without a care in the world, pouring herself a red cup of spiked punch. As she glances around, her bright blue eyes find mine, and a smile spreads across her face. My gaze studies her body like a map. Her outfit is cute: a white halter top and tiny shorts that hug her plump ass.

My dick grows hard in my dress pants, so I adjust myself.

She's a whole foot shorter than me, stopping to my chest, and her midnight black hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail.

I don't like that every man has their eyes on her, wanting to fuck her. I want to lock her up in a room and never let anyone see what's mine. She's very beautiful and knows it too. I can't wait to take her virginity on our honeymoon. I wonder if she has a dark side the way I do. I love being in control of the women I fuck. I don't like vanilla sex. I like them wanting me to choke them, tie them down, allowing me to have control over them. If she doesn't, then she's going to have to learn to love it.

Someone clears their throat. Glancing down, I see Savannah standing in front of me, her brunette hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall. She's pale as a ghost, the opposite of Lyrical. Savannah is superficial and only cares about looks and status, whereas Lyrical is creative, full of life, and doesn't care about the finer things unless it's art.

When Savannah smiles, I roll my eyes. We fucked a couple of times, and when she found out Lyrical is one of my best friends, she gave her hell, so I stopped sticking my dick inside of her. Savannah knows we're not endgame, but she wants to be the one I marry. Her father is a member of the American Billionaire Club, a gentleman's club for the richest and most powerful men around the globe, and I'm going to be the CEO once I graduate.

No one knows I'm supposed to marry Lyrical, but they'll find out when we have our engagement ball.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snap.

Savannah stands on her tippy-toes, trying to catch my attention, but I miss what she says, my eyes fixed on my sister and best friend.

I glance at her, crinkling my nose. "What did you say?"

She straightens her spine like a needle, folding her arms across her chest. She hangs around me like an old stench I can't get rid of. "I'm sorry for being mean to Lyrical. I didn't know how important she was to you, and I shouldn't have poured milk all over her and called her a gold-digging whore."

She keeps speaking as I keep my gaze glued to the guy who walks up to Lyrical. Smiling, she places her hand on his shoulder.

She shouldn't be laughing at any other man's jokes. My jealousy is back at full force, and I hate having to get rid of all the guys she likes. It's childish, but I don't care. She's mine, always will be.

My blood boils, and I ball my fist.

I stalk the shit out of her, and I have an app on her phone where I can spy on who she messages and calls. If she saves a man's number, I log into the app and delete it. No one is taking my girl's virginity but me. If she found out I have a tracker on her, she would be pissed off.

The guy is average-looking, a little shorter than me, and has blond hair. I can take him if we go toe to toe.

When Lyrical bends for Bailey to whisper in her ear, I see him slip white powder in her cup.

Oh, fuck no.

That's grounds for death. Growing up, I watched my father kill countless men for crossing our family. I was raised to eliminate anyone who is a threat.

Without acknowledging Savannah, I shove past, and she calls my name, but I ignore her.

This motherfucker is about to take his last breath. He has no idea who he's messing with.

Once I maneuver through the crowd, I snatch the cup from Lyrical's hand, tossing it in the trash can.

When she frowns, her cheeks turn pink. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Her lips are painted bright red, and I want them wrapped around my dick. The smell of her apple orchard scent invades my nostrils, making my dick harden in my dress pants.

She has no idea what I have in store for her on our wedding night. My future wife doesn't know how much I'm obsessed with her.

I stand between her and the guy, and it's taking every ounce of me not to beat the living shit out of him in front of my guests. His death is going to be a slow one.

He sizes me up, probably calculating if he can take me. Lyrical doesn't know I'm a murderer, and I plan to take my secret to the grave. I don't want her to look at me as a bad person—because I'm not. Some things, she doesn't need to know about me.

I grab her by the arm. "Go home, Blue."

Grinding her teeth, she slowly peels my thick fingers from her flesh. Looking up at me, she frowns. "You're not the boss of me, Snow. I do what I want, and we're just having a friendly conversation."

She needs to be controlled, looked after like a delicate flower, and I don't want to treat her like one. Right now, I want her on her knees, covered in her tears and my cum. I want to drag her in the bedroom, tie her up to the headboard, and fuck her until she begs me to stop.

We fight every time a guy sets his eyes on her.

My girl.

I wish she would understand she's mine.

"I thought I told you not to show up here."

Bailey rolls her eyes. "We wanted to have a little fun, Snow."

Instead of replying to my sister, I stand toe to toe with this motherfucker, keeping my eyes glued to him. He doesn't flinch or show fear. He grinds his teeth, staring at me as if he's going to shoot me.

"Sometimes you act like a jealous boyfriend," Lyrical snaps.

When we're married, I look forward to turning her ass cheeks black and blue for being disobedient.

The guy shoves my chest. "You heard the lady. Run along little boy. It's between me and her."

I stumble a little, then undo my expensive cuff links, smiling wickedly at him. It's going to be fun hearing him beg for his life.

"Just because we're getting married doesn't mean you have to cockblock me. You fucked Savannah, but once you get a whiff of another man on my radar, you run them off. I'm not yours, Snow. Not yet."

Oh, but she is. Lyrical can convince herself that she's not, but she's been mine since we were told our marriage is arranged.

Bailey steps into my view, stabbing a finger in my chest. "What's the big issue, Revi?"

She knows I don't like it when she calls me by my real name, so she's doing it to get on my nerves. I love my sister, but she can be a pain in my ass.

I glance down at her, and her wavy dark hair covers her shoulders. She's wearing a floral dress.

I lean down, whispering in Bailey's ear, "He slipped something in Lyrical's drink, so I have to take him out."

She knows what "take him out" means. It's the same phrase my father uses before he's about to kill someone.

Her face pales, and she grabs Lyrical's hand. "We have to go."

"Bu—"

"No buts. This time, we have to listen to Snow."

Concern colors her face, and she swallows thickly. "Are you coming back to our place? There is something I need to ask you," Lyrical asks.

"Of course, Blue."

She stands on her tippy-toes and kisses my cheek, and I'll never get tired of her kisses even though they're platonic. My heart beats a million times in my chest.

I watch the girls head to the front door, and then I knee the bastard in the balls. I grab his wrist, twist it behind his back, and he yelps like a dog.

Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear, "You're about to meet the grim reaper soon. I saw you slip something in my girl's drink."

His brown eyes round in horror, and he shakes his head.

"Let me g—"

"Shut the fuck up."

He tries to break free from my hold, but I keep his hand behind his back as I force him through the crowd, then down to the basement.

Once we arrive there, Keanu and Jameson lean against the soundproof walls. Jameson is munching on an apple, while Keanu grins like the Joker. Keanu gets off on hurting people, but no one suspects that about him because Keanu acts nice and kind, but under the fa?ade, he's as heartless as they come.

Jameson eats the last bit of his apple, then tosses it in the trash can.

They must have seen what happened, which explains why they are here before me. This is the only thing the basement is made for—torturing people.

The faint smell of bleach hits my nostrils. If the FBI knew my body count, they would gladly throw me in prison, but being an American God, I can get away with just about anything and everything. No one can touch me. My father has judges, cops, and lawyers on his payroll. Everyone has a price.

When Jameson tosses me a baseball bat, the fucker tries to elbow my stomach, but he misses, so I slap the bat against his kneecaps and his bones shatter as he falls face-first, slamming his skull on the concrete. He screams at the top of his lungs as blood drenches his face, and he spits out his teeth.

"Please, I d-didn't know she was with someone," he pleads.

It's always the same.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to try to hurt her. Or my favorite, I didn't know she belonged to a God. People think of me as a god in North Haven University, not just because I'm an American God but because my family is one of the most powerful in the world.

My patience is running thin, so I slam the bat on the backs of his legs, and he whimpers as tears rush down his cheeks.

Keanu chuckles, pulls out his phone, and snaps pictures of the guy. "A pretty sight."

Jameson yanks his cuff links out. He's the only one who seems normal, but he's far from it. He knows how to manipulate people to get what he wants. Plus, he's a genius hacker. "Dude, what did Snow say about pictures?"

Keanu rolls his eyes, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "You two are no fun, I swear. What's the purpose of torturing him if you can't keep a memory?"

I don't have all day to deal with this lowlife.

"Jameson, help me tie this ugly bastard to the chair," I snap.

He grabs his right arm, and I grab the other, and we tie him to the chair, then I place a cloth in his mouth, slapping duct tape over his lips.

I hope the bastard chokes to death.

Gripping his chin, I dig my black-painted nails into his flesh, drawing blood.

"What did you have planned for my Blue? Did you have plans to rape her and leave her for dead? Were you thinking about fucking her while she's unconscious?"

Keanu laughs hard. "You're going to die."

I slam my bat against the guy's chest, and he wails into the cloth. Hearing his bones crush is music to my ears. His dress shirt is drenched in blood.

"What a lovely sound," Jameson says with a sound of delight in his tone. He loves to hear people scream in agony.

"You won't ever rape another woman again." I slam the bat across his face and his skull bursts into tiny pieces, and his head dangles off his neck, creating a pool of blood.

Keanu checks his pulse, and he takes out his phone, snapping pictures again. "He's gone."

"Put that away. What the fuck is wrong with you, Keanu? Why do you need pictures of your victims? What are you going to do? Jack off to them?" Jameson says, annoyed.

Keanu grins from ear to ear. "I might."

"Get rid of the body and all the security camera footage," I tell both of them as I remove my suit jacket, then I head to my room and change into a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Once I leave the mansion, I stop by Lyrical's favorite restaurant and grab her go-to order of meatballs and noodles.

I drive on the highway, and it's blocked off because of an accident. Smoke fogs the clear sky as firemen hose down a car and burning trees.

Paparazzi snaps pictures and a policeman leads me to a detour, so I follow his instructions. When I walk into the penthouse, I waltz to the kitchen, set Lyrical's food down on the counter, and call out her name. But she doesn't respond.

Lyrical should be picking out a movie for us to watch, but when I walk into the open space living room, there aren't any signs of her. She should be home now, unless she stops by somewhere. I grab my phone from my pocket, pulling up the GPS tracker, and the red dot is at a standstill. I zoom in on the map, and realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

The area where the car accident was.

My heart drops in my chest as I rush out the door.

By the time I make it to the scene of the accident, the cops and fire trucks are already gone, so I rush to the nearest hospital which is five minutes away. My heart hammers in my chest as I call Bailey and Lyrical, hoping that there is a mistake and my GPS is wrong.

I don't think I could survive if anything happened to them.

When I pull up to the underground parking lot of the hospital, I throw my expensive car into park. As soon as I unbuckle my seat belt, my phone rings, and my mother's name is displayed across the screen, so I tap the Answer button.

"Revi." My mother never calls me by my nickname. "It's Bailey and Lyrical. They were in a terrible accident."

My heart breaks into a million pieces, and it feels as if I have boulders on my chest. Clenching my shirt, I breathe in deep and exhale loudly.

"Are they okay?"

"Come to the ER."

The line goes dead, and I practically jump out of the car and head inside.

My mother not answering my question tells me enough to know this is bad.

Very bad.

Adrenaline spikes in my blood, and I feel lightheaded as I arrive at the front desk. The nurse directs me to the waiting room, and my mother's face is wet with tears. My father has his arms wrapped around her, then I see Lyrical's parents holding each other, crying, as her mother apologizes to my parents.

I walk up to my mother and pat her on the back, not acknowledging my father's glare. We never got along, and I hate the bastard.

She falls to the ground, continuing to sob, and snot streaks down her nose.

"What happened?"

My father grabs me by the neck, yanks me to the nearest bathroom, telling every man to get the fuck out, then he locks the door.

Stomping up to me, he slaps me across the face. Pain shoots up to my forehead, and I rub my cheek.

I'm not going to back down and he's not about to make me feel even shittier than I already do.

I'm a split image of him and I hate it. We both have the same slender body, our right eye is brown and the other eye is hazel, and our hair is black, but I purposely dyed mine white so I don't look like him. I gave myself the nickname Snow and I refuse to be called Revi because it's also his first name. I hate my father with every fiber in my bones. The only reason why I haven't tried to kill him is because he's protected by the government. There are some things I can't get away with.

His Italian loafers touch my shoes, then he balls up his fist as if he's about to strike me again. "What was Lyrical and Bailey doing at your party with dangerous men?"

I say nothing. I can't say anything, but guilt eats at me like a fucking disease. It's my job to protect them.

Before I can answer, he punches me in the gut, and I bend over as the pain travels through my chest. When I try to punch him in the face, he counters it, placing his hand around my throat and squeezing, effectively cutting off my airway.

"You were supposed to be watching them, you were supposed to protect them. Bailey is dead, and Lyrical barely made it out alive before someone happened to see the fire."

This can't be real.

This can't be real.

My baby sister is dead.

My father lets me go.

I don't understand my father's logic. Why is he blaming me for the accident? But it shouldn't surprise me; he has blamed me for shit that's beyond my control ever since I was little.

I stand up straight as much as I possibly can, ignoring my throbbing stomach.

"How the fuck is it my fault that they were in a car accident?" I say through gritted teeth.

Stepping back, the vein in his forehead throbs, and his face turns tomato red. "Lyrical was driving high and they had Molly in their system, you fucking idiot! How did they manage to get a hold of ecstasy?"

No one knew they had a habit of popping Molly except for me. But this time, they didn't get it from me or anyone at the party. Unless they took it before they showed up.

My father eyes me, frowning. "You're still going to marry Lyrical. You need to be married to run the club."

Typical. My father never cared about anyone or anything but his precious business, and he doesn't care about Bailey's death because to him, she was a business deal, a liability, unless she got married.

Without another word, he leaves me in the bathroom, and I rush to the faucet, turn the knob, and splash icy water on my face. I grab a paper towel and scrub until my skin is raw.

I'm so fucking pissed off at Lyrical for driving under the influence and killing my sister. When are her reckless ways going to end? Why would she pop a Molly and get behind the wheel? I could have driven them home—hell, I could have gotten my driver to take them both home.

When I leave the bathroom, I head to the ER's waiting room, and Lyrical's mother wraps her arms around my shoulders, kissing the side of my temple.

She has always been a second mother to me. Also, she accepted me as the son she never had. I don't like how guilt creeps inside of my chest. Her father pats me on the back, nods, then frowns at me with thinned lips.

When I glance at my own mother, she looks away, casting her eyes down to the tiles, as if she agrees with my father. My mother never had a backbone when it came to my father, always siding with him even when she knew he was wrong.

"It's not your fault," Lyrical's mom whispers in my ear, and her words catch me off guard. Those are the words I want to hear from my parents. "Things happen for a reason. I know my daughter, she's reckless, and Bailey was too. I'm so sorry you lost your sister."

It feels like a nightmare that I'm never going to wake up from. I can't believe Bailey is gone. My baby sister that I spent years looking after. No more having Bailey's back and going to her about my problems.

The doctor strolls inside the waiting room, tells us they need to speak to the coroner about Bailey's body, and he lets Lyrical's parents know they are allowed to see their daughter. I have a few words to say to Lyrical myself, and pure rage hums inside of me, waiting to overflow like a volcano.

Lyrical's parents disappear down the hall while I pace the floor like a madman.

What will I say to her?

An hour later, my parents leave without sparing me a glance, and Lyrical's parents tell me she wants to see me.

Once I make it to her room, I suck in a breath as I bang my knuckles on the door.

My gaze snags on her form and her face looks dirty. We stare at each other for several moments, but it feels more like an hour.

Anger burns in my chest at the sight of her, and I look at her in disgust. Tears fall down her puffy face.

"I can't believe Bailey is gone."

She fists the sheets, grits her teeth, and I fight every fiber in me not to choke the shit out of her.

"I'm so sorry, Snow. It's all my fault. I was feeling funn—"

"Why the fuck would you get behind the wheel after you popped a Molly?"

I'm trying to keep my cool, but my sister died because of her. She should have been dead, not her. Bailey shouldn't have had to pay for her choices, and neither should my family. The love I had for my best friend quickly goes out the window, replaced with hate.

Confusion laces her face. "What? I didn't take any drugs!" She rubs her forehead and closes her eyes, but I don't give two shits about her. This is not the girl I fell in love with and she's not the person who I thought she was. "Fuck, my head hurts."

I ball up my fists and shove them in my pocket, fighting the urge not to punch the wall. "Just because both our parents turned a blind eye to your foolishness doesn't mean I will. Your and Bailey's bad habit caught up to you tonight."

My sister turned to street drugs when her medication wasn't strong enough to fight the hallucinations she suffered from. Sometimes, Lyrical would get high, too, so she wouldn't feel alone.

I hate the sight of this girl, the girl I was in love with all these years. And, what's worse, I'm stuck with her for the rest of my life. If I don't marry her, I don't get my father's business, and that's the only thing I want right now. To graduate and inherit what belongs to me.

She sinks her two front teeth into her bottom lip as she shakes her head. "Snow. I'm telling you the truth. Bailey and I didn't do any drugs before we came to the party. We made a pact that we wouldn't take it anymore."

She's full of shit and she knows it.

"I don't believe you."

She sits up forward, gripping the rail of the bed. "You're my best friend. Why would I lie to you?"

"So you won't take responsibility for your actions. I knew you were reckless, but I didn't expect you to do this stupid shit. Don't fucking talk to me anymore, not until the wedding."

Thick tears rush down her cheeks like a hose.

My chest aches as if a gigantic hole is in there.

I would have done anything for her. Anything. But she betrayed me and what makes it even worse, she lied to my damn face. I don't want to be anywhere near her.

"I was drugged. That's the only explanation. We went to another pa—"

I finally lose my cool, punch the door, and my fist throbs. I'm too pumped up on adrenaline to recognize the pain traveling up my arm. "Stay the fuck away from me."

"Snow, please. I'm sorry."

Without another word, I walk out of the room as she jumps out of the bed, following me down the hallway. She continues to follow me to the parking lot, but I get into my car before strapping the seat belt over my body. I watch her bang on the window, screaming my name. I put the car in drive, leaving her in the parking lot.