Page 6 of Filthy Elites

“Well, congratulations. You almost made me faint again.”

“Was that why you passed out earlier? Because you were having a panic attack?”

Shit. I’ve said too much.

“What do you want?” I grit out.

“I already told you. I came to check on you.” He cocks his head. “Are you wearing colored contact lenses?”

Ah crap. I forgot I removed my lenses before the shower. But he thinks my natural color is brown… “Yes.”

“It suits you. And you shouldn’t wear so much makeup to hide your freckles. Guys prefer the more natural look.”

My eyebrows arch. “Aren’t you conceited and a half? You think whatever women do is to please men, don’t you?”

He chuckles. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” I hiss. “I couldn’t care less what you think.”

“So, are you saying you hate yourself so much that you need to cover your face with layers of chemicals?”

This dude is seriously pissing me off. To hell with playing nice. I jump from the bed and stride toward him, stopping only when I’m in his space.

“I don’t hate myself. I hate arrogant asses who think the world revolves around them.”

The amused grin vanishes from his lips. His eyes narrow, turning intense as he stares into mine. I make a motion to step back, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to maintain eye contact as he studies me. The rough grip triggers bad memories, but at the same time, his touch is electrifying in a good way.

What am I thinking? Did my horrific experience fuck me up in the head?

“Those are amazing contacts, Nicola. They look real.” He releases me and steps back. “Have you ever played an instrument, by any chance?”

His change of subject makes my head spin. “What?”

“The violin, perhaps?” He quirks an eyebrow.

My stomach turns into knots as my pulse skyrockets.Oh my God, he recognizes me.

“No. What prompted that question?”

He shrugs. “You were watching one of the best young violinists in the world. It was a safe guess.”

I exhale and pray he doesn’t notice my relief. “Well, you guessed wrong.” I cross my arms.

“All right, then. I’d better go. Don’t want you to get in trouble for having a male guest in your room.”

His eyes flash with a devilish glint before he walks out, leaving the door ajar.

Fucking asshole.

ChapterFour

Nicola/Isabelle

Despite my attempt tokeep to myself and not befriend anyone, when a shy, dark-haired girl as pale as the moon breaks the ice by complimenting my shoes, I don’t have the heart to brush her off.

“Thanks,” I say, fixing my bangs to make sure they’re in place. “I’m Isa—Nicola. What’s your name?”

“Sage Halle,” she replies with a small smile.

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