Breakfast in the Avilla household was a little more hectic than Taliana remembered. By the time she was up and dressed back in the day, Katherine would have had breakfast made, Charles would be happily sipping his morning coffee, and the twins would either be sitting at the table playing a game or still at a friend’s house from the sleepover they'd gone to the night before.

This summer morning, however, was much different.

“Come on, Vanessa! You drank all the orange juice!”

“Charles! Go upstairs and change your pants, they’ve got syrup on them!”

“Ugh! Mom, this milk went bad days ago!”

“Katherine! You’re burning the eggs!”

The sheer volume of the back-and-forth banter coming from the kitchen was what had woken Taliana in the first place, but now that she was standing right outside the doorway, she was convinced her eardrums would burst if she got any closer.

Deciding to risk life and limb, she stepped into the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table. In the background she heard Katherine shout good morning over the sound of the television, which was spewing the latest news about the stock market, causing her father to let out a distressed groan every time the Dow dipped further. While Taliana was unsure what all those numbers meant, watching her father's reaction to them was immensely entertaining.

However, her attention quickly shifted when a towering plate of pancakes appeared in front of her.

“Eat!” Katherine mouthed as she ushered the twins into their seats around the table.

Taliana didn’t need to be told twice.

A wave of calm washed over the kitchen when the television shut off and her father dropped into the chair on her left.

“Morning,” he greeted, reaching out to ruffle Taliana’s hair. He then turned his attention to the twins, who were glaring venomously at each other. “Girls? What’s the problem?”

Marissa’s eyes narrowed a fraction more, but she didn’t turn away from her sister as she answered the question. “She’s wearing the same outfit as me and refuses to change.”

Taliana glanced at them, taking in their matching blue tank tops, miniskirts, and sandals. It looked great on both of them, but it was an outfit Taliana wouldn’t have worn in a million years.

“Why should I have to be the one to change?” Vanessa huffed. “I was wearing this first.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Were not.”

“Was, too.”

“Were not!”

“Was—”

“Girls!” Charles cut in, putting an end to an argument that was bound to end with hair pulling and screeching. At least that was how it used to end when they were kids. Hopefully they had moved on from that kind of problem solving. “How about you both go change?”

“I shouldn't have to change,” Marissa whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she finally swung her brown eyes away from her twin. “She’s the one who insists on copying me.”

“Oh, please. Like I would ever want to copy you.”

Marissa opened her mouth to counter the insult, but their father beat her to it. “Both of you change or you’re not getting the credit card to go shopping today.”

The girls were out of their seats before Taliana could even blink.

“Gets ‘em every time,” Katherine chuckled. “Think they’ll ever learn?”

“Let’s hope not,” he said, digging into his food. “We won’t have anything else to threaten them with if they grow out of it.”

She took a seat next to him. “I doubt they ever will. I just hope they don't go overboard like last time.”

Her father cringed, remembering a previous disaster. “They were lucky I’d just sealed that deal at work or else they’d be getting jobs to pay off that ten-thousand-dollar credit card bill.”

Though Taliana’s dad, Katherine, and her mother all came from money and had raised her and the twins with the comfortable lifestyle, Taliana still couldn’t comprehend how two sixteen-year-olds could spend that much money in one sitting. She had a hard time paying five bucks for a cup of coffee or over forty for a new pair of jeans.

“Maybe you should go with them, Talia,” Katherine suggested. “You could help keep those two in check. Plus, I’m sure you’d like to get out of the house for a little while.”

Taliana almost choked on her orange juice. “Yeah, sorry, I’ll pass,” she answered once she recovered. “Not really my thing.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll give you a chance to bond with the twins. Plus, it should be fun.”

Shopping was not synonymous with fun in Taliana’s vocabulary, but the look on Katherine’s face was making her feel guilty. “Okay, sure,” she agreed hesitantly. “Are they looking for anything in particular?”

“Dresses for some boy’s party tomorrow night, I think.”

Taliana hadn’t even looked at a dress since she’d been zipped up in one of her mother’s awful creations a few months ago. Memories of that event made her cling to her comfy athletic shorts and t-shirts for dear life.

“He’s not just some guy, Mom,” Marissa cut in from the entrance of the kitchen, now sporting a yellow sundress. “He’s Sebastian Phillips, the most gorgeous guy, like, ever.”

It took a moment for the name to register, but Taliana’s eyes widened when it finally did. “Sebastian Phillips?” she asked, having practically forgotten about his existence. “As in the kid who got me expelled from Georgetown Trinity?”

“That’s the one!” Vanessa chirped as she breezed in, her outfit modified with a white button-down shirt.

Taliana couldn’t help but stare at the girls in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Talia, it’s going to be amazing,” Marissa went on. “He always goes all out for his parties, but this one is supposed to be the best of the best. I mean, it’s Sebastian. What else would you expect?”

She continued to watch them carefully. “I would expect it to be stupid like his birthday party back in fourth grade when he had to invite the entire class, just because his mommy insisted.”

Marissa giggled and took her seat again, Vanessa joining her a few seconds later. “I forgot you haven’t seen him since you guys were, like, eleven. He’s changed.”

“A lot,” Vanessa added, reaching for a piece of toast. “He’s not that scrawny little boy anymore.”

“He’s hot as hell now.”

Taliana didn’t believe a word of what they were saying. “Is he still a raging asshole?”

Marissa looked to her twin for help, but Vanessa merely shrugged

“We wouldn’t say that,” Vanessa murmured, treading carefully. “He’s just a little...standoff-ish.”

Taliana snorted. A little standoff-ish, her pasty white ass. It had to be ten times worse than that. “Sounds like the same Sebastian to me. You two have fun at the party, though.”

Before the girls could get in another word, their father cut in. “Why don’t you go too, Talia? There’s bound to be people you know there. Go socialize a little.”

She shook her head as she took a sip of her juice. “I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t want to crash it.”

Charles waved it off. “I’m sure it’ll be no problem. I know the owner of the club hosting the party. You won’t have any issue getting in.”

“I don’t know...”

“You’re going,” Vanessa said, an air of finality in her words. “People already know you’re back anyway.”

Taliana’s brow knit together in confusion. “How did they find out?”

Marissa shot her a look. “How do you think?” Suddenly, a sparkly pink phone was being waved in Taliana’s face. “News travels fast.”

That wasn’t surprising. Word of her countless scandals back in California had spread faster than wildfire, causing her to go from practically invisible one day to the top ring of the social echelon at school the next. But that was a whole different story.

“Do you have something to wear to the party?” Vanessa asked, tapping her manicured nails against the table top.

Taliana shrugged. “I'll just wear jeans or something.”

The horrified looks on their faces told her she’d just said something wrong.

“Jeans?” Marissa spluttered, obviously repulsed by the choice. “No, no, no. You need to be going all out. Don’t half-ass it.”

“Give the girl a break,” their father cut in, reaching out to pat Taliana’s shoulder comfortingly. “She doesn’t have to be a fashionista like you two.”

“I just don’t get it, though!” Marissa exclaimed. “I mean, her mother is the Andrea Colton, aka the hottest designer at the moment. How can you not be into fashion when you come from that kind of greatness?”

Charles shrugged, obviously at a loss as to why Taliana didn’t dress as fabulously as her mother. It sort of made her wonder if she was even related to either one of them.

“Whatever.” Marissa shook her head, brushing it off. “We’ll help you out. Because you can’t go to Sebastian's party looking anything like that.”

Her eyes disdainfully took in Taliana’s outfit of athletic shorts, an oversized white t-shirt, and flip-flops that she’d had forever. Her face was makeup free and her hair was thrown haphazardly into a bun, telling of the fact that she had just rolled out of bed. But obviously, her appearance wasn’t up to Marissa’s standards.

“Agreed,” Vanessa said, taking Taliana in as well. “I think we’ll have something good when we’re done.”

Taliana wasn’t sure whether to be excited or scared for her life, but she was leaning more toward the latter for the time being.

The twins glanced at each other before getting up from their seats and motioning for Taliana to join them.

“Let’s go,” Marissa instructed.

The next thing Taliana knew, she was being shoved into the backseat of Vanessa’s car, and before she could even figure out how to get her seatbelt on, they shot away from the curb. Her white-knuckle grip on the seat didn’t ease until ten minutes later, when Vanessa swung the car into a parking spot on M Street, the heart of the shopping district in Georgetown. Soon Taliana was being yanked out onto the crowded sidewalk and into a little boutique full of dresses.

“Ooh! That is so cute!”

“Talia, you have to try this one.”

“This would look amazing on you!”

“Oh, and this one, too!”

“Go on! What are you waiting for?”

Taliana took a deep breath and let the twins pile things into her arms, heading for the dressing room. So much for a relaxing day.

***

There were numerous anger management techniques out there, many of which had a proven effect on people, but all hope was lost whenever Sebastian Phillips hit that crucial boiling point.

With his jaw set, Sebastian shot a glare across the room at his cousin, whose phone had been buzzing incessantly for what seemed like ages. “Jude, if you don’t turn that thing off or answer it in the next two seconds, I’m going to hang you with your stupid tie.”

The boy in question merely rolled his eyes, practically immune to Sebastian’s threats after so many years. “Touch my tie and you’ll get a pair of cement shoes and a bath in the river,” Jude calmly shot back, eyes locked on the mirror he was preening in front of.

Clearly, a love of threats ran in the family.

His hand darted out to grab his phone. With a quick glance at the screen, Jude hit a button to silence the noise before tossing it onto the couch where Sebastian sat.

“I wish that girl would stop calling me,” he complained, obviously annoyed by her persistence. “Did she not get the message when I told her I wasn’t interested in going on a date?”

“Did you tell her why you weren’t interested?”

Jude shot him a you must be kidding me look. “Is it wishful thinking that I thought it would have been obvious? I mean, I was literally in the middle of flirting with at least three guys when we met. I even asked her which one she thought was the cutest so I could narrow down my options.”

Sebastian snorted, definitely able to imagine his cousin doing that. “Maybe you should have flat out told her you were in the market for a boyfriend,” Sebastian suggested dryly, his gaze drifting to the young woman who’d just entered the private room with another pile of clothes for the boys to try on. Well, mainly for Jude.

“You know I'm not looking for commitment right now,” Jude said, following Sebastian’s gaze to the now blushing girl who dropped the clothes and scurried out of the room. “Just like you, apparently.”

A smile tugged on the corners of Sebastian's mouth as he rose from his seat, looking through what the salesgirl had brought in. “No harm in having some fun. So if you can’t get that girl off your back, feel free to pass her number on to me.”

“You really are the whore of the family.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Sebastian glanced at his watch and cursed softly when he realized there was somewhere he needed to be. “I’ve got to go,” he called over his shoulder, snagging his keys off the table before moving toward the exit. “See you at dinner.”

“I’ll be there,” Jude said, continuing to check himself out. “Where are you going anyway?”

“I’m meeting the guys for lunch.” He checked his watch one more time, calculating how long it would take to get there. “Then I’m going car shopping with my parents.”

Jude managed to look away from the mirror, glancing at Sebastian. “Another car?”

“It’s a tradition now. I’ve been getting cars for my birthday since I turned sixteen.”

Jude went back to arranging his shirt once again, unbuttoning a few more buttons to expose his tan chest. “Well, have fun. And please don’t buy anything red.”

Sebastian shot him a slightly disbelieving look, amused he would even consider that. “Only guys who have to compensate for something drive red cars.”

“Last I heard, you needed to do some serious compensating.”

“You’ve been chatting up the wrong girls, Jude,” he laughed, moving toward the door. “Pick me something to wear for the party, would you? I don’t have enough time to do it myself. After I escape my parents, I have to go down to the club and finalize some things for tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine.” He turned toward Sebastian again and shooed him with one hand. “Now, get out of here, you spoiled brat.”

Sebastian lazily lifted a hand in goodbye. “I owe you one, Jude.”

Turning once more, he left the private room and started toward the front of the store, but not before hearing Jude mutter, “More like a thousand.”

Finally stepping outside, Sebastian dodged the hordes as he made the two-block trek to Café Tehran. Most tourists stayed away from its grungy looking exterior and painted windows, which made it the perfect hideaway. The comforting scent of spices greeted him as he entered and made his way up the spiral staircase to the second floor of the restaurant, quickly finding his friends at one of the tables and sliding onto the bench next to Michael.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized, but no one seemed to have noticed, seeing as Marcus had slid so far down in his seat that he almost disappeared under the table. Sebastian glanced at his friend, slightly concerned about his wellbeing. “You all right? You look like shit.”

“I had a rough night,” Marcus mumbled.

Michael’s eyebrows shot up, suddenly interested. “Oh? Care to spare any details?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing good, trust me. Zak got in early and my mother was obviously unprepared for another teenager to enter her home. Especially one like him.”

A grunt came from Jacob’s direction. “Where is he now?”

“At home.” Marcus sighed in relief, sitting up some. “I somehow managed to get out of taking him around with me today, though we'll see for how long.”

As if on cue, his phone rang.

Marcus let out a loud groan, and Sebastian knew it had to be Senator Patterson. “Hello?” Marcus answered hesitantly, pausing momentarily as the woman spoke. “Are you serious? Come on, why can’t someone else show him around?”

Michael and Sebastian exchanged amused glances, both knowing their friend’s good luck never lasted long.

“I know you have to go to work, but—Mommy, please.” He paused again, brown eyes widening in shock. “He did what? What is he, a fucking pyromaniac or something?” A sudden blush consumed his face as he ducked his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry... It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

Struggling to contain his laughter, Sebastian continued to watch as Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. We’re at Café Tehran. Drop him off on your way back to the Capitol.” Without a goodbye, Marcus hung up and grimaced. “My mom is making us look after Zak for the afternoon.”

“Look after him?” Michael questioned. “Isn’t he our age?”

“Yeah, but he gets into trouble—a lot of it,” Marcus explained. “He ‘accidentally’ lit a houseplant on fire today. Apparently, he thought it would make a good hiding spot for a joint. My mother is livid.”

“Considering Senator Patterson’s political track record on drugs, that’s not surprising,” Michael snickered. “Can’t have her looking like a hypocrite.”

Marcus shot him a venomous look. “Go to hell.”

In typical Michael fashion, he blew a kiss to his offended friend and grinned as if he’d done nothing wrong.

Marcus, however, was having none of it. “I’ll be back,” he announced, getting up and stalking out of the room.

Sebastian glanced at his best friend, a silent now look what you've done look, before sliding off the bench and following Marcus downstairs. Sebastian caught up with him outside, where he was attempting to light a cigarette.

“Those’ll kill you eventually, you know,” Sebastian pointed out as he approached, though his words had no true warning in them.

The shorter boy didn't respond until he'd taken a long drag. “Thanks for the concern.” He sighed, tilting his head back and letting a curl of smoke escape his lips. “But Zak will probably kill me before these do.”

Together, they sat on a nearby bench, watching the bumper-to-bumper traffic slowly inch down the street. Though his posture was relaxed, Sebastian could tell his friend was seething, something he didn't see too often from Marcus. Clearly Zak had rubbed him the wrong way, but Marcus wasn’t alone in that.

Zak was Sebastian’s polar opposite. Sure, they both had attitude problems, Sebastian wouldn’t deny that, but that was where the similarities ended. Zak was an edgy little shitlord who dressed in all black and was covered in tattoos, while Sebastian looked like a walking Brooks Brothers ad from the moment he rolled out of bed in the morning. Zak had the appeal of any trashy rock star in the making, but Sebastian reeked of old money. Anyone could have seen they were born to butt heads.

Marcus groaned a few minutes later, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe. “Crap, here he comes.”

In a town like this, it wasn’t hard to pick Zak Huntington out of a crowd. He looked no different from the last time Sebastian had seen him a few years ago, except his hair was a little longer and hid those soulless eyes.

Sebastian slowly rose to his feet as Zak approached, listening to the curses Marcus was muttering under his breath. “Huntington,” he greeted with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

Zak had the decency to at least give him a curt nod. “Phillips,” he murmured. “It hasn’t been long enough.”

“I could say the same.” Without another glance in Zak’s direction, Sebastian turned to Marcus and fished his car keys out of his pocket, not wanting to suffer through any more time with Zak. “I’ve gotta go. You two have fun.”

Though there was no missing the glare from Marcus, Sebastian smiled as he walked away, silently thanking the universe for blessing him with a well-dressed, flamboyant narcissist for a cousin instead of a demon like Zak. But he had a feeling said demon was about to bring more drama to their lives than Jude ever could. Sebastian just hoped they were all ready for it.