Chapter 1 The Invitation She Wasn't Meant To Open

Selina Monroe had three things in her purse: fake lashes, forged credentials, and a dream she'd die chasing.

The champagne flute in her hand trembled slightly as she stepped onto the yacht's velvet-covered deck. Lights glittered like diamonds on water, the Mediterranean stretching endlessly behind her. Everyone here sparkled-from their teeth to their net worth. And her? She sparkled with borrowed shine.

"Selina Montgomery," she'd told the security guard, flashing the name of a real socialite who'd canceled last minute. A wardrobe assistant owed her a favor. A stylist whispered what name to drop. Everything else was bluff and instinct.

She wasn't meant to be here.

But that never stopped her before.

Inside, the party roared with curated chaos-models laughing too loud, men with cold eyes in sharp tuxedos, waiters gliding past with trays of things no one could pronounce. Selina moved through the room like perfume, lingering just long enough to be noticed, then gone before they could ask too many questions.

Her target wasn't the champagne or even the fame. It was the twins.

Darian and Dax St. James.

Hollywood royalty. Billionaire heirs. Tabloid obsessions.

They weren't just rich. They were mythic.

She'd heard the rumors-one ruthless, one reckless. But no one seemed sure which was which.

Until tonight.

"There you are," a smooth voice drawled from behind.

She turned slowly, the practiced half-smile already on her lips.

And there he was.

Sharp jaw. Sea-glass eyes. Hair like he hadn't decided whether to comb it or let the wind style him. He held a drink in one hand and danger in the other.

"Do I know you?" she asked, the flirt laced with a challenge.

"You do now," he smirked. "Dax."

So this was the wild one.

She offered her hand. "Selina."

He took it and didn't let go.

"You're not on the list," he murmured.

Her heart stuttered. "Is that your way of asking me to leave?"

"No," he said, stepping closer. "It's my way of asking why someone as stunning as you had to sneak in."

She tilted her head. "Maybe I like risks."

He laughed, low and easy. "Then you're definitely in the right place."

They drank. They danced. They disappeared upstairs just before midnight.

The room was dim, draped in shadows and silk. Dax kissed like he'd forgotten what tomorrow was, and Selina let herself believe in a version of the night that didn't end with regrets.

But when she woke the next morning tangled in a stranger's sheets, Dax was already gone.

And someone else was watching her.

From the leather armchair near the window, a man sipped his coffee with unnerving stillness. He looked exactly like Dax-except for the stillness. The cold calculation in his gaze.

"You're not the first girl to sneak into one of our parties," he said. "But you might be the first who didn't bother to sneak out."

Selina sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

"Who are you?"

He stood slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

"Darian St. James," he said. "And unlike my brother, I'm very good at remembering names. Especially the fake ones."

Her stomach dropped.

She was caught.

He walked to the door but paused.

"Next time you want to play in our world, sweetheart... make sure you know which twin you're dealing with."

Then he was gone.

And Selina, still naked, still reeling, realized one terrifying truth:

She didn't know which brother she'd slept with.