I’m also wearing my least attention-grabbing outfit—a simple strapless leather dress that reaches the tops of my knees.
My boots for the night are the tamest I have and the only ones that aren’t chunky or covered with chains.
Maya, however, chose to wear heels, as usual, not seeming to care about whether or not that would hinder our mission.
I point at the mask in her hand and gesticulate to her face, then sign, “You’re supposed to be wearing that! They have cameras around, and you might have just offered them a front-row seat to our identities.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically, proving her position as the ultimate drama queen I know. “Relax. The camera range only starts once we’re close to the gate. And I was going to put it on, if you’d been patient for, like, two seconds.”
“Don’t mess with me.” I snatch the mask and smash it to her face, then strap it around her head so that it’s secured.
She whines and groans. “You’re running my hair, idiot. Let go. I’ll do it myself.”
I only release her once I’m satisfied with the mask’s placement. She glares at me through the eyeholes as she proceeds to fix her hair.
“Don’t give me that,” I sign. “You know how much effort it took for me to get a goddamn invitation to this pretentious event. The last thing I need is for something to go wrong.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She throws her hand in the air with obvious exasperation. “I’ve heard the story about your sacrifices a thousand times, to the point that I can recite them back.”
“In that case, stick to the plan and stop giving me headaches.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She does a mock salute and I make a face behind my mask.
Since she can only see my eyes, Maya can’t get the full picture, but she still smirks anyway like an annoying idiot.
My twin sister has always been my best friend, but she often drives me up the wall with her shenanigans.
After I make sure neither of our faces is showing, we start walking toward the mansion again.
Or more accurately—the Elites’ compound.
When I first came to Brighton Island, I had to learn a few rules. The most important one is that there are two rival colleges on this island. The one I belong to is American and called The King’s U. It’s funded by powerful people whose pockets are filled with new money. The kind whose source or motives are hard to pinpoint.
My parents are included in the group of powerful people. We’re Russian mafia royalty and they happen to be leaders in the New York Bratva.
The other college is Royal Elite University—or REU. British, loaded with old money and pretentious aristocracy.
Our college has two clubs: the Heathens, with which our loyalty lies since my brother and cousins are members; and the Serpents, who are second on my shit list.
First on that list, however, is the Elites. The secret club and the holy grail of REU.
While the Heathens are full of mafia heirs and American royalty, the Elites are…dangerously different.
They appear elegant and suave, but there’s a nefarious undertone lurking beneath the surface.
Maya and I are infiltrating their mansion and party. It’s impossible to get an invitation to these close-circle gatherings unless you’re part of the club or their family and friends.
Lucky for me, I managed to snag two invitations that were meant for someone who’s part of the family.
When Maya and I arrive at the entrance, a large man stops us. Masks are mandatory tonight, and he’s wearing a black carnival one with golden ornaments.
From my research, I gathered that mask nights are important nights. They’re not only a members' meeting, but they’re also when they celebrate wins and announce plans for the future.
It's the main reason why I waited such a long time to execute my plan. There needed to be this level of significance for the mission to be satisfying.
I reach into my bag and show him the black invitation card with ‘Elites VIP’ written in gold. After Maya does the same, he takes and scans them with a special gadget.
Geez. No wonder it’s impossible to get into these things. They even scan invitations to make sure there are no forgeries.
Once the light goes green, he nods more to himself than to us and motions behind him at his colleague, who’s in a similar mask.
“You’ll leave all your personal belongings here. No phones or cameras are allowed inside.” His gruff voice with a barely understandable British accent fills the air. “If we find out you snuck any communication devices inside, you’ll be thrown out.”