Chapter 162

“Who invited Coventry Prep?” Becky says, at a volume that's clearly meant to carry. “This is a Burberry party.” She steps in front of Lizzie and gives her a little shove in the chest.

“Don't test me,” Lizzie says, just as loudly. “You saw what happened last year when you tried.”

Becky pushes her again, this time with two hands.

Lizzie stumbles back, and then Tristan's there, hauling Becky up and away, and tossing her to the sand.

“Do not touch my people, Platter,” he says, pointing at her. His face is dead serious. Without having to try, his voice cuts through the murmuring and the whispering. There are Plebs everywhere, watching us. I rise to my feet, sensing violence. Back at Ileana Taittinger's party, when I dumped the cars in the pool, I could see factions forming in the audience. The same thing is happening here.

Tristan versus Harper, King versus Queen.

"If you keep talking, I’ll toss you right out of this limo, and we’ll find out if the Ple