"Where the hell have you been?" I hear as soon as I walk into my apartment.

I smile. "Good morning."

"Don't good morning me! I have been worried sick and trying to fend off your father all fucking night. Where the hell were you?" Scarlett, my best friend, says.

I ignore her and walk to my closet to put my shoes back in their correct place. The closet isn't really a closet. It's more like a changing room overflowing with gifted clothes from various designers after doing shoots for them. The other half of the room is filled with every kind of makeup, jewel, and accessory I've ever worn. It's every woman's dream. I'm just not sure it's my dream.

I slip off the crop top and pull on a comfy T—shirt instead. Scarlett storms in before I've finished changing.

"Well?" she asks again. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her foot is tapping slowly on the hard floor as she waits for my answer. Her ombre brown—colored locks flow down her back in thick curls unchanged from last night when she persuaded me to go out to a bar instead of my usual routine of hiding in my apartment to study and wait for my father to call.

"I was with Brent."

"You were with who?"

"Brent."

"I heard you the first time. You couldn't have been with a guy!"

I laugh. "Too late." Although I think I have to get further than second base to actually say I was 'with a guy.' I puked before things got too far.

"Kinsley Elizabeth Felton! You were supposed to get drunk, flirt with some guys, and then come back here with me to sleep it off—not go home with a complete stranger without telling me."

"Calm down, Scar," I say, brushing past her and heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"Don't Scar me. You…you can't just…"

I laugh, seeing Scarlett so flabbergasted. She didn't think little ole me had it in me to have a one—night stand. Well, I did—sort of. I've had one boyfriend before. Scarlett is the one who dates. She's the one the guys are always after.

We are both models and both beautiful in our own right. But while I model for Seventeen magazine, Scarlett models for Victoria's Secret. I look seventeen, and she looks twenty—five. Guys find my thin frame, long legs, and blond locks attractive, but guys want to sleep with Scarlett.

It's for the best guys never want to sleep with me. I shouldn't date anyway.

I sigh. "Calm down, Scar. Nothing happened."

"What do you mean 'nothing happened'? You went home with him!"

"Yeah, well…something almost happened, but then I threw up, and he passed out on the couch while I was in the bathroom."

Scarlett's body visibly relaxes at my words, but it doesn't stop her questions. "Why did you go home with him though?"

"I don't know." I fill my glass with filtered water. "I was drunk."

Scarlett shakes her head. "Just don't do it again."

I take a long gulp of water as I stare at Scarlett in disbelief. "You were the one who pushed me to go out."

"Yeah, and you are supposed to listen to every word I say, not go off and make your own stupid decisions like that."

I roll my eyes at her change from wild friend to motherly concern even though she has every right to be concerned. The last time I did anything remotely crazy it ended badly.

"Why are you here anyway, Scar? I thought you'd be at your apartment shooing a man out of your bed." Scarlett rarely stays over at my place. She has her own luxury apartment a block from mine. If it weren't for our parents' pocketbooks, we would have been roommates. Sometimes, I wish we had been anyway so we could have gotten the real college experience. It would have never worked though. Our clothes alone would have been too much to fit into one apartment together.

A phone vibrates, and Scarlett reaches into the pocket of her jeans. She pulls out my phone, and a worried look crosses her face. "I think you'd better answer it. Your father has been calling you nonstop, every twenty minutes, all night."

I stare at the phone, afraid to take it from Scarlett's hand. I know what's waiting for me on the other end of that phone—yelling. Lots of yelling and lecturing about my responsibilities, how immature I was last night, and how my parents should take everything away and give it to someone who will respect their terms. I can already hear my father's stern voice now.

"I'm surprised they haven't already shown up here," I say honestly. I've never missed a phone call from my father. He calls every Friday evening, and I answer instead of going out and partying with my friends. But I turned twenty—one this week. I deserved to have some fun, but now it's time to deal with the consequences.

Scarlett's eyes grow wide with fear as she thrusts the phone into my hands. "Answer it before they do show up. I don't think I could survive getting a lecture from your father."

I smile weakly as I stare at the still vibrating phone. It's not my father I have to worry about though. Our relationship has always been good. It's my grandfather's lecture that terrifies me.

"Hello?" I say, finally answering the phone. "I'm sorry I didn't answer earlier. I accidentally grabbed Scar's phone instead of mine. You know how we have the exact same phone. I was so focused on studying last night I forgot it was Friday. I fell asleep before I remembered. I'm sorry if I worried you, but I'm ready to talk now," I lie. I've never lied in my entire life. It doesn't feel natural, leaving my lips.

"Kinsley, shut up. I don't believe a word coming out of your mouth anyway. I need you to come home to Vegas immediately. I sent a jet to come pick you up," Granddad says.

"Wait…what? I have finals all next week. I need to be studying." I move my phone from my ear to make sure I saw the number correctly. It's my father's, not my grandfather's, number. Why is my grandfather calling me on Dad's phone?

"It's an emergency," he says grumpily into the phone. "Your father's dead."

"What?" I say, not believing his words.

He wouldn't say that to me over the phone.

"Your father's dead," he says, repeating his words. "He had a heart attack, probably due to the fact his only daughter never called him like she was supposed to. You need to come home for the funeral, and so we can decide…"

I don't hear the rest. I drop my phone and watch it clank against the hard floor. I slump to the floor. Tears stream down my face as Scarlett, my only friend, rushes to my side and holds my body in her arms.

It can't be true. It can't be.

"What happened?" Scarlett keeps asking as she holds me firmly in her arms.

"He's gone," I finally say between sobs.

And it's my fault. If I hadn't gone out last night, if I had called him, he might still be alive. If I hadn't gone out last night, I could have had one last conversation with him. I could have heard one last piece of advice. I could have heard one last 'I love you.'

I didn't though. Now, I'll never get to hear my father say those words to me again. It's all my fault. Another mistake to add to my list of flaws.

I never realized how one mistake could ruin your life.

Except, I already knew one mistake could. That was five years ago. This is nothing like that. This time, it's worse.

* * *

I thought the day I found out my father had died was the worst day of my life. I thought nothing could get worse than that.

I was wrong.

I thought the funeral might be the worst day because I had to say goodbye to the only family member who had understood me at all.

I was wrong.

Today, the day after the funeral, is the worst day. Today, everything has become real. The tears are gone but not the pain. The pain is worse, much worse than I could have ever imagined. I have no one here who can comfort me or steal my mind for just a minute.

Scarlett came to Las Vegas for the funeral, but she's already gone back to Connecticut to finish her finals. She won't move back here until later this week.

My mother is a mess. We got into a fight after the funeral. It was about something petty, like what to do with the donations made in my father's honor. She can't comfort me.

And my grandfather…I wish I could stay far away from him right now.

I love my grandfather. He has done a lot for me and our family. Without him, the Felton Corporation might never have reached the heights it has. We wouldn't have more than enough money to take care of ourselves for dozens of lifetimes without even having to lift a finger. Granddad was the one who turned a simple casino into the almost twenty properties we own now. He was the one who grew the empire to what it is today.

He has given me direction in my life. He was the one who got me the modeling jobs. He was the one who decided I should go to Yale. He was the one who decided I should major in theater. He was the one who chose my whole future.

And I know why he has brought me here—to decide what comes next.