Four Of A Kind

Chapter 268: [4.86] Premium Otome Game

A black leather mini dress that clung to every curve. Fishnet stockings. Combat boots that went up to her knees. Her wine-red hair was wild and loose, and she had dark makeup that made her look like she could either seduce me or murder me, possibly both at the same time.

She looked up when we entered, and her purple eyes raked over me with an intensity that made my mouth go dry.

"You’re three minutes late," she said, but there was no bite in it. Just heat.

Sarah made that dying animal sound again.

"Oh. My. God." She turned to Iris. "You said they were pretty. You didn’t say they were illegal." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Harlow giggled and bounced over to us. "You must be Sarah! I love your outfit! Where did you get those platforms?"

"Depop!" Sarah squeaked. "But oh my god, where did you get that dress? You look like an angel who decided to be bad!"

"Harlow designed it herself," Vivienne said, standing with an elegance that looked effortless. "She has considerable talent."

Sarah’s knees actually wobbled. "You have an accent. British accents should be illegal on people who already look like that."

Sabrina closed her book and stood. "Iris mentioned you’re interested in manga. I have some recommendations."

"You read manga?" Sarah’s voice hit a pitch that probably bothered dogs. "What’s your favourite series? Do you like romance? What about isekai? Oh my god, do you read webtoons?"

I watched my sister’s friend vibrate with excitement while four gorgeous girls smiled at her with genuine warmth, and I realised that day was going to be even more insane than I had anticipated.

"Isaiah." Cassidy appeared at my elbow, close enough that I could smell her perfume, something dark and spicy that made me want to bury my face in her neck. "Your costume’s upstairs. Harlow spent approximately forty-seven hours making sure it fits perfectly."

"Forty-seven hours?"

"I counted. She measured you while you were sleeping."

The casual way she said it made my brain stutter. "She what?"

"Relax. I was supervising." Cassidy’s mouth curved in something that might have been a smile if smiles could be weapons. "Someone had to make sure she only measured the appropriate parts."

Heat crawled up my spine. "And what parts would those be?"

"The ones that matter for tailoring purposes." Her eyes dropped to my chest, then lower. "Obviously."

I was going to spontaneously combust right there in the east parlor.

"Costume. Right. Where?"

"Third floor. Guest suite. Everything’s laid out." She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the fine line of kohl around her eyes. "Try not to look too good. I’m already having trouble keeping my hands to myself."

She walked away before I could respond, and I watched the sway of her hips in that leather dress until Iris cleared her throat.

"You were staring."

"I wasn’t staring."

"You were staring so hard you almost burned holes in her dress."

Sarah appeared at my other side, eyes bright with manic glee. "This is better than anime. This is like anime plus premium cable plus somebody’s very specific fantasy come to life."

"I’m going to get changed," I announced to nobody in particular.

"Take your time," Vivienne called after me. "We’ll entertain your guests."

As I climbed the stairs, I heard Sarah launch into what sounded like a detailed analysis of everyone’s costume choices, complete with references to character archetypes and colour psychology. Iris was encouraging her. The Valentine sisters were asking follow-up questions.

My sister had made friends with four billionaire heiresses, and her best friend was currently explaining the cultural significance of maid cafes to people who probably owned actual cafes in actual countries. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

I reached the guest suite and found my costume laid out on the bed like an offering to some very specific god. A black tailcoat with red silk lining. A white button-down shirt. Black dress pants that looked like they had been tailored by angels. A cape, an actual cape, with silver clasps. White gloves. And sitting on the nightstand, a set of fangs that looked disturbingly realistic.

There was a note in Harlow’s bubbly handwriting: I hope everything fits perfectly! The cape is detachable if you get too warm. The fangs are custom-made and perfectly safe. You’re going to look amazing! ♡

I picked up the shirt and immediately understood why it took forty-seven hours. The fabric was expensive enough to fund a small country. The stitching was so perfect it probably required actual magic. Even the buttons were some kind of polished silver that caught light like jewellery.

I got dressed piece by piece, and each item fit like it had been made for me specifically. Which, given Harlow’s apparent midnight measuring session, it probably had.

The final touch was the cape. I fastened the silver clasps at my shoulders and immediately felt like I should have been starring in something with a significantly higher budget than my actual life.

The fangs slid over my canines with disturbing ease, and when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognise myself.

The guy staring back at me looked like he could actually pull off dating four gorgeous heiresses simultaneously. He looked like someone who belonged in marble foyers and private school festivals. He looked dangerous in the way that made smart girls make stupid decisions.

He looked nothing like the scholarship kid from Kensington who worked double shifts to pay rent.

I adjusted the cape one more time, slid the fangs into place, and headed back downstairs to find out exactly how spectacularly that day was going to destroy my life.

The parlor had transformed into what appeared to be a strategy session. Sarah sat in the centre with a notebook, interviewing each sister about their costume choices while Iris documented everything on her phone. It was like watching a nature documentary about rich girls in their natural habitat.

"And the psychological impact of the leather?" Sarah asked Cassidy with the seriousness of a war correspondent.

"It makes people underestimate me," Cassidy replied. "They see the outfit and assume I’m all edge and no substance. Then I destroy them."

"Brilliant! Classic misdirection through aesthetic choices!"

I cleared my throat from the doorway, and four heads turned toward me in perfect synchronisation.

The silence stretched for exactly three heartbeats.

Then Harlow made a sound like a tea kettle reaching peak temperature.

"Oh my god, you look, you look like—" She fanned herself with her hands. "I can’t handle this. I actually cannot handle how good you look right now."

Vivienne’s composed mask slipped for half a second, and I caught a glimpse of something hungry before she regained control. "The fit is acceptable."

Sabrina closed her book with a soft thud. "Harlow outdid herself."

Cassidy said nothing at all. She just looked at me with those purple eyes like she was mentally undressing me, which was disturbing considering I was already half-undressed by virtue of wearing a costume that belonged in someone’s very specific fantasy.

Sarah broke the tension by launching herself off the couch. "Holy shit, you look like you stepped out of a premium otome game! Iris, your brother is actually illegal!"

"I’m aware," Iris said dryly. "Trust me, I’m very aware."

Vivienne checked her watch, an actual Patek Philippe because of course it was. "We should depart. Setup begins in seventeen minutes."

"Right." I adjusted my cufflinks, which were apparently also silver and probably worth more than my car. "Let’s go serve coffee to teenagers while dressed like the cast of a very expensive Halloween party."

"This is going to be the best day ever," Sarah announced.