Chapter 61 The Descent
The Sapphire Suite was an exercise in blue—walls the color of the deep Atlantic, silk sheets that felt like cool water, and a balcony that hung precariously over the jagged limestone cliffs. But inside, the atmosphere was frantic. We were no longer just two girls in a room; we were soldiers preparing for a breach, and the armor we were putting on was terrifyingly thin.
"I can't do the black slip dress, Mila," Eliza said, her voice trembling as she stared out at the sprawling Beach Club below. "Look at them. They aren't just dressed; they’re curated. I’ll look like I’m trying too hard to be sophisticated, and I’ll fail."
I looked at the open suitcase on the bed—the one my parents had packed with a desperate, sacrificial hope. The fabrics were fine, the colors were soft, and the price tags, though removed, still seemed to scream of high-interest debt and credit card limits pushed to the brink.
"Take these," I said, pulling out a set of coordinates—a high-waisted, emerald green bikini and a matching sheer linen cover-up. "The color was made for you, Liz. My parents bought three of these sets. They’re brand new. They’re ‘expensive’ enough to be a shield."
"Mila, those were for you," she protested, even as her eyes lingered on the rich, sea-glass fabric.
"If we’re going down there, we’re going together," I said firmly, shoving the clothes into her hands. "I’m wearing the white one. It’s... it’s a lot, but we have to match the energy of the house."
I reached for the last set in the suitcase. It was a white bikini with gold hardware. My heart hammered against my ribs just looking at it. Back in Queens, I lived in oversized t-shirts and a sturdy, faded one-piece that saw the public pool twice a summer. This was different. This left nothing to the imagination and nowhere to hide the fact that I didn't belong.
We changed in a blur of motion. I watched Eliza transform; in the emerald silk, she looked like a siren. I pulled on the white suit, my hands shaking as I fastened the gold clasps. I felt exposed, every scar and imperfection of my "real" life laid bare for the elite to scrutinize. I quickly threw on a sheer white linen shirt, knotting it at the waist, but it did little to ease the feeling of being naked in a room full of people wearing armor.
We met the boys in the Great Hall. The transition from "Library Nate" to "Beach Nate" was jarring. He was waiting at the foot of the marble staircase, dressed in a crisp white linen shirt left unbuttoned at the top and dark tailored swim trunks. He looked relaxed, the very picture of inherited ease, yet the moment his eyes found me, his posture sharpened. Theodore stood nearby in a pale blue polo, while Gavin remained a brooding shadow, his eyes fixed on the floor until Eliza stepped into the light.
I saw Gavin’s breath hitch. For a second, the cold wall he’d built around himself cracked, his gaze raking over Eliza in the green silk before he looked away, his jaw tightening so hard I thought it might snap. Nate, however, didn't look away from me. His eyes moved from the gold hardware of the bikini to the messy knot of my hair, a look of intense, quiet appreciation settling on his face that made me flush hotter than the Caribbean sun.
"Ready?" Nate asked. He didn't wait for an answer; he stepped forward and offered me his arm.
I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling the solid warmth of him. We didn't take the Land Rover back down; instead, Nate led us down a private, winding stone staircase carved directly into the cliffside. The sound of the surf grew louder with every step, but it was soon overtaken by the rhythmic, heavy bass of house music drifting from the Beach Club.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, the white sand of the public-access beach stretched out before us. The Beach Club was a sprawling pavilion of bleached wood and flowing white curtains, packed with the elite of Alverstone. The air smelled of expensive sunblock and the unmistakable scent of old money.
The moment we stepped onto the wooden boardwalk, the change in the atmosphere was instantaneous. It was like a ripple in a pond. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-sentence. The clinking of crystal glasses softened as a hundred pairs of eyes tracked our approach.
Nate didn't slow down. He walked through the center of the club with a predatory grace, his grip on my arm firming as the whispers began to rise above the music.
"Is that her?" "In the Salvatore house? She’s actually staying up there?"
Sitting at the center of a plush daybed was Scarlett, looking radiant in a designer wrap. Beside her, leaning against the railing with practiced sneers, were the Cole twins, Bianca and Savannah, and Vivian Thorne.
"Nate! You finally made it," Scarlett said, standing up with a warm, practiced smile. She stepped toward us, her eyes moving over me with an expression that looked like genuine delight. "And Mila, you look absolutely lovely. That white is so... brave. Most people can't pull off something so revealing, but you have such a 'natural' look."
"Doesn't she?" Bianca Cole chimed in, her voice loud enough to carry to the neighboring tables. "It’s so refreshing to see someone wear a suit from three seasons ago. Or is that a knock-off, Savannah? I can never tell with the 'budget' brands."
"It’s definitely... authentic," Savannah sneered. "Though I’m surprised the Salvatore gates didn't set off an alarm for cheap polyester."
Vivian Thorne let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Maybe the guards thought she was part of the entertainment. Are you here to give us a private tutoring session by the pool, Mila? I hear the acoustics are great for 'working' girls."
Eliza stiffened beside me, her knuckles white as she gripped her cover-up. I felt the heat rising in my neck. But then, Nate’s arm shifted. He drew me firmly against his side, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back.
"Scarlett, thank you for the 'warm' welcome," Nate said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register. He didn't even look at the twins or Vivian, treating them like bothersome gnats. "Mila is here because I don't care for the view at the resort. And as for the suit—I think she’s the only one in this club who isn't hiding behind a label. It's a shame the rest of you need so much fabric to feel important."
Scarlett’s smile didn't break, but her eyes flickered toward the twins with a warning look. "Oh, Nate, don't be so sensitive. The girls are just joking. We’re all so happy to have more... diversity in the group this year."
"We're going to the water," Nate announced, his tone final.
As we walked away, leaving the Triad simmering in their own spite, I looked at Nate’s profile. He had just publicly snubbed the most powerful girls at Alverstone to keep me standing.