Not all of them. He doesn’t know about my relation to the Astors. I bite my lip as it dawns on me.

Because if Landon is my brother, then that means the woman across the room—with her silk-clad body plastered to Sebastian’s—is my half-sister.

And I already hate her.

12

Halfway through the auction, Sebastian disappears into the hall with Lilith. Unable to focus on anything but where they might have gone, I fake a headache and tell Landon I’m heading back to my quarters for the night.

As the elevator approaches Sebastian’s floor, I’m tempted to stop the car and exit there, but doing so would cause unbearable torture. Because I know they’re together, and I can’t stand the thought of what they might be doing behind the emblem of that fancy lion guarding the entryway.

So imagine my shock when the elevator doors slide open on the ninth floor, and Lilith steps inside alone. Her sleek locks aren’t so sleek anymore, and though she hides it well, her eyes hint at the threat of tears. Casting a glance my way, she reaches for the eleventh floor button, and her fingers halt as she realizes it’s already lit.

“Looks like we’re headed to the same place,” she says, standing back with a lift of her chin.

“It appears so.”

“I guess things didn’t go well with my brother?” She gives me the side-eye. “Since he’d rather marry your lady.”

She has no idea we share the same blood. I wonder if her attitude toward me would change if she knew. Considering which floor she just left, I assume the truth wouldn’t make a difference—not with whatever history she shares with Sebastian standing in the way.

It kills me that I know nothing about it.

“Elise’s happiness is all that matters,” I say, keeping my voice level as endless speculations plague my mind. A muted ding announces our arrival on the eleventh floor. I gesture for her to exit first before following her through the entrance and into the main sitting room.

She makes a beeline for the bar and pours a double shot. “Would the queen of the tower like one?”

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” She throws back the clear alcohol—vodka, I’m guessing—and winces from the burn. “Enjoy my suite of rooms while you can.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your quarters. They’re nice, aren’t they?” Bitterness sets her mouth askew. “They used to be mine.”

“I wondered why Landon had the space renovated.” It’s a catty comeback, but I can’t seem to rein in my testiness around this woman.

Letting out a dark laugh, she sets the empty shot glass on the bar with an obvious thunk. “Well, I’m going to retire to my guest room. It was lovely to meet you.”

“You as well.”