The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans, #1)

by Nikki Sloane

precariously

I love this word so much

nuisance.

Emily latched a hand on my elbow and pulled me close, bringing her lips right by my ear. “Where the fuck is he? I’m dying here.”

“You want me to go look for him?” Oh, God, please say no.

The situation was sort of fucked up, but Emily didn’t protest.

perpetually

A man, his back to me, was on his knees before her, his head buried between her spread thighs.

Im on page 6.....

In fact, Alice Hale was currently at a spa for “an intensive cleanse,” but there were whispers. Rumors that Macalister had put her in rehab.

Rich people drama!!!

I fell in love with the library in one slow, wonderous blink.

Meeeeeee

I liked how twisted the stories were. Murder, and betrayal, and jealous wrath . . . all the worst traits were displayed in the Gods’ behavior, and they were unapologetic about it. It was fascinating.

The jerk remembered me.

The tie around his neck was the same green as his daddy’s money and the knot at his collar was askew.

Perhaps he’d been the man on his knees in the other room, making the woman moan.

Everything you tried to hide or were ashamed of, he’d find it.

He was so fucking comfortable holding my gaze too long, staring into the depths of me.

dubious.

I could pretend I didn’t smell his cologne or was wondering if he’d just finished fucking the girl down the hall and was prowling for his next meal.

riveting

Had he just called me ugly?

It was impossible to look at him and not think about sex.

cloistered

He was fucking with me.

ante.

How far was he willing to take this? And . . . how far was I willing to let it escalate?

demure

“So what if I’m a virgin? Who fucking cares?”

Fire scorched his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I fucking see you, Marist.”

And as if it would prove his point, he slammed his lips down on mine, crushing everything I believed into a million pieces.

benign

“You wait for me. You understand?” Wait for him? My confusion made the orgasm brewing in my system hesitate.

It was less of an order from him, and more like a plea. “I get to be first, Marist. No one else touches you.”

and I wondered if he simply decreed it in the morning and his hair fell into line.

pretentious.

incredulous

susceptible.

MY MOTHER SCREAMED.

catastrophe.

“Hello, Marist. Or is it Medusa now?” His lips held the faintest of smiles. “Did you do what I asked?” Air halted painfully in my body as everything constricted. I couldn’t believe he had the balls to ask me that after what had just happened, after all this time, and to be so casual about it. Flames bloomed in my chest. “It’s Medusa.” “Liar.” He smiled so victoriously, I almost didn’t catch the relief he was trying to hide beneath it.

reveled

archaic.

“You mean, Royce and I—?” My gaze flicked toward the man seated across from me. He hadn’t moved, but there was an edge of excitement in his blue eyes.

Royce’s unexpected smile made my heart stumble. Was I reading him right? He looked pleased at my answer, like he wanted this. What kind of sense did that make?

commodity.

bereft

If our name was all we had left, then—fuck—I’d do everything in my power to keep it.

I swallowed a breath and tucked a lock of my doomed green hair behind an ear.

Im gonna miss her green hair

“My great-grandfather surprised my great-grandmother with it to celebrate their twentieth anniversary. She nearly had a heart attack because I’m told he was . . .” I lowered my voice, “well, a cheap bastard.”

gamut.

manipulate. To manufacture. I’d had to give her access to all my social media accounts so she could rebrand them.

I was determined to play this game until I found a way to beat it.