Savage Prince: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Royal Falls Elite Book 1)

by Kristin Buoni

  She tapped away at her keyboard for a moment, and then she stood up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  As soon as she was out of the room, I went around to her side of the desk and took a peek at the computer monitor.

  Scholarship recommended by: Connery

  Status: Accepted

  I went back to my seat, brows furrowing. Apparently my scholarship recommendation came from a member of the Connery family. But who, exactly?

  It couldn’t be Adam. He didn’t even know I existed until we met a few weeks ago.

  It couldn’t be Tinsley Connery, either. We’d never met, and from what I’d heard, she’d been in rehab for the last several months (referred to as a luxury spa in Arizona, as was the polite custom in a place like Royal Falls).

  That left Charles and Hunter.

  Charles knew me, but only vaguely. We’d met a few times years ago, when he dropped my mom off at home after various car breakdowns, and we’d also spoken for a few minutes at the Connery mansion party I waitressed at a few months ago. All of those meetings were brief, unimportant encounters. Nothing worthy of him giving me an expensive scholarship.

  There was one thing I could think of, though.

  I knew he felt awful for recommending that piano teacher to my family after he heard what happened to me, because he gave my mom two months off work with full pay at the time, along with a heartfelt apology. But if he felt guilty enough to arrange a scholarship to RFA for me, he probably would’ve done it years ago, when the incident actually occurred. Not just this year. It didn’t make a lick of sense for him to wait so long.

  So that left Hunter.

  I frowned and chewed my lip. If Hunter pushed for my scholarship so he could get me here, why was he trying to get rid of me now? What the hell was I missing?

  An old conversation I had with Adam suddenly popped into my mind.

  ‘About two months ago, I went to borrow Hunter’s keys because my car was playing up and I needed to go somewhere. I walked into his room and saw a photo of you.’

  ‘A photo?’

  ‘Yeah. I asked him what it was, and he said… Fuck, I can barely remember it now. Something about meeting you at the party and thinking you were hot. So he got someone to track you down.’

  That meant Hunter was definitely aware of me several months ago. Aware enough to have someone track me down and take at least one photo for some strange, unknown reason. So I guess he could have decided to arrange a scholarship for me as part of his weird Laney-stalking campaign.

  But again… why? Why follow me? Why bring me to his school when he seemed to hate me so much?

  Ms. Flores finally returned. “Everything okay?” she asked, noticing my confused expression.

  “I was just wondering something. If it says a recommendation came from a founding family, is it possible to find out the exact member of the family it came from?”

  “I don’t think so, no.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Damn.

  She leaned forward. “Anyway, now that I’m back, did you want to talk more about what you’ve been going through these last few weeks? Or did you want to make a start on your college apps?”

  “College stuff, please,” I said. I was tired of thinking and talking about the bullying all the time. Making decisions about college would be a welcome distraction.

  Around half an hour later, the bell signifying that we had five minutes until first period rang, marking the end of our session.

  “Well, we’ve made a good start today,” Ms. Flores said, briskly gathering up some papers. “Your application essay draft is promising. I think you can make some improvements, though, so keep revising it. Also, try to think of some people who can write recommendation letters for your file. The more you have, the better.”

  “I will.”

  She smiled. “All right. You better get to class. I’ll see you next time.”

  “Thanks for the help, Ms. Flores. And thanks for being so cool.”

  I grabbed my things and headed toward Royal Hall. Trina and Adam were waiting for me outside the main entrance.

  “How was your meeting with Flores?” Trina asked, hooking her arm in mine.

  “Good. She actually believed me about Hunter and all the others.”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Let me guess… she can’t do anything about it?”

  “She can. She just needs proof.”

  His brows shot up. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Apparently the school isn’t renewing her contract once it finishes because she intervened in some other bullying last year. So she basically feels zero loyalty to anyone here except the students who need help.”

  “Wow. Nice.”

  “What sort of proof does she need?” Trina asked.

  “Anything that directly shows them bullying me.”

  She rubbed her chin. “Damn. That could be hard. Hunter has been pretty careful to stay out of it. He knows everyone else will do his dirty work for him.”

  “I know. But once they start getting suspended over it, and he finally has to do some of it himself, he might slip up.”

  “True. Also, you have me as your secret weapon. I can spy on him at home to see if he does anything there,” Adam said with a dramatic wink. “Maybe I can catch him on camera talking about his plans to push you off a cliff.”

  I laughed wryly at his dark joke, but my amusement faded as I turned the corner and caught sight of my locker.

  There was something stuck to it—a black envelope with a gold calligraphic capital M on the front.

  Fear sank sharp talons into my chest as I stepped closer.

  I snatched the envelope off the locker and held it out to my friends, hands trembling and eyes wide and fearful. “What the hell is this?”

  13

  Laney

  “This is more blacklist stuff, isn’t it?” I said, hand shaking as I held out the envelope.

  Adam and Trina still hadn’t responded to my first question yet. They were just standing there staring at me with wide eyes.

  They didn’t look scared, though, like they did when I was initially blacklisted. They just seemed shocked.

  “It’s okay. Calm down,” Adam finally said, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder. “That M isn’t for murder, and the letter doesn’t have anthrax in it.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “I think it’s an invitation,” Trina said, brows furrowing.

  “To what?”

  “The Medusa Society. That’s what the M means,” she said.

  “Who or what is the Medusa Society?” I asked, forehead wrinkling.

  Adam and Trina exchanged glances. “You know the group of girls I call the Supermodel Club?” Trina said.

  “Yes.”

  “The Medusa Society is their club. It’s kinda like a school-based secret society for girls.”

  “Oh, right. I think I remember you saying something about that a while ago.”

  She nodded. “They have their own room in the north wing of Royal Hall,” she said. “They hardly ever invite people to join them, though.”

  “Why would they invite me, then? I’ve barely spoken to any of them.”

  Trina shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess it could be because you have a few things in common with them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for one, you’re drop dead gorgeous,” Adam cut in, arching an eyebrow. “And you’re a scholarship student, too.”

  “Most of them are scholarship students,” Trina added. “Some aren’t, but even then, they’re from the poorer families in Royal Falls.”

  I cocked my head slightly to the left. “I’m guessing ‘poor’ has a very different meaning in this town than it does to everyone else.”

  “Yeah. They’re more like upper middle class. But in Royal Falls, that’s poor,” Adam said, rolling his eyes.

  “So it’s a club that supports lower-income students, then?”

  My friends shrugged. “No idea,” they said in unison.
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  I stared at them, mouth hanging open. “You don’t know what they do?”

  “No one does except them,” Adam replied. “They’re always doing their own thing in their clubroom. Half the time they don’t even bother going to the cafeteria for lunch.”

  “Some rumors have gone around about them,” Trina interjected. “But like I said the other week, they’re all really nice girls. I wouldn’t believe anything bad about them.”

  “What sort of rumors?” I asked.

  “Just dumb stuff started by Jessica Fitzgerald,” she said, rolling her eyes upward. “Last year she tried to tell everyone that they’re crazy Satanists who sacrifice babies every full moon.”

  “Yikes. Couldn’t she come up with something believable?” I said.

  “She’s not exactly the brightest bulb. Stuff like that is believable to her.”

  “It’s probably because of the tattoos,” Adam said.

  I lifted a brow. “They have tattoos?”

  “They’re just henna, I think,” Trina said. “There’s no way the school would allow students to get real tattoos. But yeah, the girls in that club all have little lizards on their necks.”

  “Snakes,” Adam said, nudging her. “Not lizards.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Snakes.”

  “I’m guessing the design is based on the name,” I said. “Seeing as Medusa was a snake-haired monster.”

  “Probably. Oh, and there is one other thing people say about them,” Trina said, rubbing her chin.

  “What?”

  “Well, the society has been around since RFA opened up,” she began. She paused and looked at me. “Do you remember how we told you about that girl who was found dead in one of the abandoned buildings?”

  “Allegedly found dead,” Adam said.

  “Right. Allegedly found dead,” Trina said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Anyway, according to some of the rumors, she was a member of the Medusa Society, and a few people have tried to link that to the current members. Like, they’ll say that they’re all distant relatives of that girl, and they’ve come to RFA to exact revenge upon the person who killed her, even though she died thirty years ago.”

  “If she even died at all,” Adam cut in, rolling his eyes. “It’s all bullshit, obviously.”

  I peeled the envelope open and fished out the contents. My friends were right—it was a gold-embossed invitation to join the Medusa Society members for lunch in their clubroom. I held it up to show them. “Do you think I should go?”

  “Yes,” Adam said, nodding fervently. “We want all the goss on what they do, obviously. Also, it might actually be a support club for lower-income students, like you said before, so it could be really helpful.”

  “Hm. I guess so.”

  The bell rang again, and we all snapped to attention. “Shit, I have to get to homeroom,” Adam said, giving me a quick hug. “Let me know how the lunch thing goes!”

  The morning dragged by. I couldn’t concentrate in any of my classes, because I was too busy wondering about the Medusa Society and why they invited me to have lunch with them.

  I knew my friends were probably right about the club wanting to support me as a fellow scholarship student… but they didn’t know what I saw on Harker Island last Friday.

  They didn’t see the wild dancing and weird coiled-serpent rods everywhere. They didn’t see the robed men, stone altar and golden chalices, either. Or the flagrant throne sex.

  Maybe Jessica Fitzgerald did see all of that at some point, and that was why she started the Satanism rumor. Too bad I could never ask her, though. She’d sooner rub her face in a pile of horse manure than have a civil conversation with me.

  The bell finally rang for lunch, and Trina nudged me as we trudged out into the hall. “The Medusa Society room is on the first floor, a few doors up from the astronomy clubroom.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Good luck!” She air-kissed me before walking off toward the cafeteria.

  I went in the opposite direction and headed into the north wing of Royal Hall. It was quiet compared to the rest of the building, but I couldn’t help myself from constantly looking over my shoulder anyway.

  Even though an elite preparatory academy like RFA was supposed to be safe for all students, I’d seen its dark side over the last few weeks. Now I saw the truth about it; the shadowy, cloying fog in the air that seemed to whisper ‘danger’ with every step I took, every dim corner I peered into, and every echoing hall I went down.

  It was almost enough to make me miss my old public school with its frequent lockdowns and weapon searches.

  I finally came to a halt outside the Medusa Society door. It was right at the end of the hall, decorated with a golden snake above the room number.

  After taking a deep, centering breath, I knocked.

  “Come in, Laney!” a sweet voice called out from inside.

  I opened the door to see a large room lined with bookshelves and art. A dark mahogany table stood in the center of a huge Persian rug, and eleven girls were seated at it.

  Each seemed more beautiful than the last, and simply standing within ten feet of them made me feel wildly inadequate. I had no idea how Adam could think I was in the same league as them.

  I knew I was attractive when I made an effort, but these girls literally looked like Victoria’s Secret Angels. All of them had perfectly-applied makeup, shiny hair, and glowing tans.

  I’d love to look like that, but I also loved to go to rowing club in the mornings, and that didn’t leave much time for hair, makeup, and fake tanning before class.

  “We’re so glad you could make it, Laney,” said a dark-haired girl at the head of the table. “I’m Camila Valmont, the president of the society, and this is Kiri Tamagi, my VP.” She pointed to the girl next to her before going around the rest of the table. “That’s Penelope, Layla, Riley, Hazel, Lillian, Alison, Paisley, Madelyn, and our newest member Dayna.”

  “We don’t expect you to remember all of those names right away,” Kiri said, giving me a warm smile. “Anyway, take a seat!”

  “Help yourself to some food if you’re hungry,” Camila said, gesturing toward a large antipasto spread on the table.

  “Thank you.” I sat down and demurely folded my hands in my lap, back ramrod-straight. I usually slouched a lot, but I felt like I shouldn’t while I was in here, surrounded by such beautiful young women.

  “You’re probably wondering why we invited you here,” Camila said with an enigmatic smile.

  I nodded. “Yes, I’ve been wondering all morning.”

  “Well, we’ve had our eye on you since you started at RFA, and we’ve been hoping to recruit you,” she said. “But before we get into all of that, you should probably know what we’re about. I assume you’ve heard some rumors here and there?”

  “I’ve heard a few things about your group, yes.”

  “Don’t worry, we aren’t Satanists, and we don’t sacrifice children,” Kiri said with a giggle. “We’re just a normal club with a mission.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Our main goal is to return women to their rightful place in society,” she said, lifting her chin.

  My brows rose. “Um… that sounds kind of sexist,” I said in a small voice.

  Camila laughed. “This is why I’m meant to do the talking,” she said, playfully elbowing Kiri. “Sorry, Laney. Kiri isn’t always the best at wording things.”

  “I meant to say we’re all about female empowerment,” Kiri added, blushing an adorable shade of pink. “Starting with our name. Do you know who Medusa was in Greek mythology?”

  “The Gorgon,” I replied. “She had snakes for hair and turned men to stone if they looked at her.”

  Camila nodded. “That’s right. Since ancient Greece, she’s been portrayed as a monster. But she was actually a rape victim who was punished for it. Did you know that?”

  “No.” I shook my head, brows knitting.

  “It’s true. So to us, she’s a symbo
l of feminine rage and injustice. Not some crazy, murderous monster.” She leaned forward, entwining her fingers. “In our club, we believe in elevating girls and women despite all the people trying to keep us down in society.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “Did you know that most societies used to be egalitarian?” she asked. “Thousands and thousands of years ago, before city-states were created.”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s true,” she said with a slight nod. “Then a whole lot of stuff happened—too much to get into now—and the majority of societies decided to put women down instead. Treat them like second-class citizens. We still see it in countries all over the world.”

  “We see it here, too,” another girl interjected. Penelope, maybe. “Even though we have fully equal rights now, legally-speaking, we still have to deal with a ton of backward cultural attitudes.”

  “Not to mention a serious lack of opportunity in a lot of cases,” Camila said. “I’ll give you a tiny example. My mom is smart as hell and extremely qualified for the job she does. She worked at a company for years, and she was constantly praised for her hard work, amazing ideas, and great team-player attitude. Everyone loved her and looked up to her, and when a promotion opportunity came up, they all assumed she’d be a shoo-in. She was given the chance to apply, of course… but guess who got the position in the end?”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The CEO’s completely unqualified son,” she said, lips tightening. “My mom did everything right, but she still lost out because she wasn’t a rich man with the right father.”

  “The same thing happened to two of my aunts,” Kiri added. “I know these are just anecdotes, but this stuff happens to women all the time. It doesn’t seem to matter how smart, ambitious, personable, or hard-working we are… not when so much of the world is still run by old boys’ networks who prefer to hire men. They prop each other up and give each other all the top positions, even when they don’t deserve them or aren’t as qualified as others.”

  “So you guys are like a feminist club?”

  Camila smiled. “Sort of. The Medusa Society was created by a group of people who believe in the same things as us—that girls need to be given more opportunities to level the playing field, seeing as there are still so many old boys’ clubs around. That group is called the Network,” she said. “They’re older and have access to a lot of wealth, so they help us.”