// Best YA Romance in the Romance Fiction Awards 2021//
Thrill Hawthorne, keeping up to his name, lives his life on the edge. Or so people think.
Ignatius Rookwood is the darling son and the sole male heir to a gigantic business corporation. Or so...
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"I hate this idea," Thrill muttered, his eyes on the mirror and his hands fumbling with the tie around his neck.
Quinn let out a laugh. She stood leaning against the wall, hands folded over her chest, as she watched the young boy's feeble attempts to look presentable.
"I'm serious, Quinn. I think it's a terrible idea."
The woman raised a brow. "When have any of my ideas ever failed to produce the desired results?"
"Um, how about the time when you thought it would be a good idea to show Rara the Super Tiger to Aria?"
Quinn let out an exaggerated sigh. "How was I to know she would get so obsessed with that show?"
Despite everything, Thrill laughed to himself at the memory of Aria dressing up as a tiger and wanting to live in an actual tiger cage at the state zoo. Her tantrum lasted over a week; it was only when the actor playing Rara showed up at their house and told Aria she can't live with tigers that the then three-year-old calmed down.
"Anyhow." Quinn pushed off the wall and walked up to Thrill. With expert hands, she began fixing his tie for him. "You're no longer a kid, so my plan will work, don't worry."
Thrill pouted, his hands on his hips.
"It'll be fine, you hear me?" Quinn insisted. "If not, I can just... slip something into Odette Rookwood's drink, you know, purely by accident."
Thrill snorted. "As if."
The woman smiled through pursed lips and said nothing. Though spiking Odette Rookwood's drink was too farfetched, Quinn was capable of going to great lengths to protect this family and Thrill found a strange solace in that thought. She was like his guardian angel, after all; his very own superhero with guns and a great fashion sense.
"There you go." She stepped back to admire her work.
Thrill turned to look at the mirror. He was wearing a black suit with a black shirt, and his hair was properly done and everything. "I look like an idiot."
Quinn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Well, you are one. You've got to accept who you are. Love yourself for who you are."
Thrill knew she wasn't talking about him being an idiot anymore.
"Yes, I copy," Quinn said, out of the blue, a hand to her ear. She scrunched up her face at Thrill, "They're here. Come on." She didn't wait for him, though, and quickly made her way out of his room.
Thrill sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up ever so slightly.
"You can do this, Mithril," he told his reflection. "Just a few hours. And in your own house. What's the worst that can happen?" He stared at his reflection. "They could have snipers placed at strategic locations and while we're sitting together, all of us could get shot. ... Or maybe it's a ploy to distract us, while they kidnap Aria." He let out a groan and raised a hand and slapped himself. "Stop over-thinking and get this over with."
