by K. G. Reuss
“Trust me. You will marry him. And you won’t last a minute here without friends,” he shot back, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Besides, if you upset Mikhail, it might just end in your death. The Ivanovs won’t be humiliated, nor will I.”
“Then I eagerly await my end.”
I flinched as he leaned in and brushed his knuckles across my cheek.
“Don’t say such horrid things. You don’t even know what awaits you if you fuck this up. I’m a very powerful man, and I won’t hesitate to bury you with the rest of the trash.”
I swallowed thickly and dared to stare into his dark eyes. “What do you want, David?”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “What’s owed to me. Trust me. You’ll be paying up.” And with that, he took a step away from me. “You turn eighteen in a few days. That doesn’t mean you’re free. It means exactly the opposite. Do as you’re told if you want to survive. If you want your mom to survive. I’d hate to see her hurt over your antics. I’ll start with her first.”
“If you hurt my mom—”
“You’ll what?” David cocked his head at me, a twisted smile on his lips.
I gritted my teeth together, my hands shaking.
“Exactly. You’ll do nothing because let’s face it. You have no power. Fall in line, or you can face the consequences of your actions. Or lack thereof. Now call Mikhail.” His gaze flitted over me for a moment before he turned on his heel and departed.
I caught sight of Mom outside the door. She cast me a quick look, her smile tight.
The moment the two of them were down the hall, I slammed the door shut and flopped back onto my bed, anger surging through my body. I hauled in deep, calming breaths as I tried to push away the way David’s touch on my skin felt. How his eyes penetrated past a superficial look. How he spoke to me like he knew he owned me. How he commanded me to call some asshole I despised.
He might be onto something, though. While my mother had become something I didn’t recognize, she was still my mother. Getting her out from beneath David’s thumb had to be one of my priorities.
And maybe he was right. Maybe I did need some friends. Maybe someone here knew something about my real dad. He couldn’t have gambling rumors flying around about him without someone knowing the tea on him in a place like this. Bolten was filled with human waste like David and the Ivanovs. I was sure he’d made just as many enemies at Bolten as he had friends. If the few months I’d been stuck in David’s house with all the rich assholes he kept coming in and out of his parties had taught me anything, it was that they liked their traditions, and Bolten Academy was a place for traditionalists to congregate.
I just had to find one of his enemies.
Three
Bianca
“Shit,” I hissed, shouldering my bag as I rushed down the hallway of the science building the following morning. The map given to me yesterday fluttered from my hands as a student elbowed me in passing.
My book bag banged against the back of my head as I swooped down to snatch the paper before it hit the ground. Without it, not only would I not know where the buildings were, but I wouldn’t know what my classes were either since my schedule was printed on the other side. I jerked my hand away as a polished black shoe came down on it.
“And who do we have here?” a deep, slightly accented voice rumbled, causing goosebumps to pop up along my skin.
If I had to guess, I’d say he was Italian. So much authority resonated with his silky words that I found myself looking up at him from my knees like some hostage.
My breath caught in my chest as I locked gazes with the most vivid green eyes I’d ever seen. He cocked his head at me, his dark hair falling across his forehead.
“I asked your name.” He lifted an eyebrow at me.
Don’t gawk at him. Say something!
“Bianca,” my voice cracked. The heat from my flush had me ducking my head.
“Bianca,” he purred, startling me as he kneeled in front of me, his finger beneath my chin tilting my face up. Being even closer to him made me realize I’d had it wrong. He wasn’t simply handsome. He was outright gorgeous. Everything about him had me reeling—the way his woodsy cologne blanketed me, how flawless his skin was, his long, dark lashes, those full, pouty lips, and that body. His biceps strained against his navy uniform blazer.
“What’s your last name, Bianca?”
I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, not wanting to answer.
He let out a sigh and looked at the name printed in bold on my schedule lying face up on the floor.
“D’Angelou? As in David D’Angelou?”
“What of it?” I demanded, hating already David had a name here. Knowing my stepfather, he probably had more enemies than friends among the legacy students. I looked down and reached for my schedule, eager to get away from his overwhelming presence.
He grasped my face tightly, forcing my attention back to him.
“When I speak to you, you look at me. When I ask a question, you provide an answer. Do you understand, Bianca D’Angelou?” The words fell off his lips like poison.
It was as if night had fallen on an angel. He’d gone from seemingly sweet to downright dark as his gaze hardened into a glare.
“Who the hell do you even think you are?” I snarled back, jerking out of his grasp. Gorgeous or not, I wasn’t going to put up with his shit. I already had enough assholes in my life to contend with.
“I’m your worst nightmare. You need to watch where you’re going and who you’re inconveniencing,” he growled, his lips set in a deep sneer. “Being the daughter of D’Angelou won’t earn you any brownie points with the kings.”
“Didn’t know my getting to class would inconvenience the royalty here.” I reached out and grabbed my schedule from beneath his shoe. The ripping sound as it tore in half had me closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. As if my day hadn’t already been shitty, now I only had half a schedule.
Mystery guy reached beneath his shoe and picked up the other half. With his eyes locked on mine, he crumpled it into a tiny ball and pitched it over my head into the surge of students.
“Dick,” I snarled at him before standing up and whipping my back to him and making to leave. A squeak of surprise left my mouth as he tugged me against him, his fingers digging painfully into my bicep.
“Watch yourself, wasp. You’ve got a mark on your head now.” His warm breath blew against the shell of my ear with his warning.
“Likewise, asshole.” I checked his ribs with my elbow, causing him to loosen his grip.
I doubted I’d caused him any pain since it felt like my elbow had connected with a brick wall, but he released me anyway. I darted away. When I felt like I was a safe distance from him, I cast a glance over my shoulder.
He stood where I’d left him, his eyes narrowed at me, students giving him a wide berth.
Whoever he was, I’d make it a point to stay away. He had trouble written all over him.
Four
Dominic
“Who’s the new girl?” Vincent asked as he leaned against my locker.
My heart was still banging in my chest from the encounter. She was fucking breathtaking. Of course, she had to be a D’Angelou, my father’s enemy, and by default, mine.
“D’Angelou’s daughter, Bianca.” Her name burned my lips. If she had any other last name, I would’ve hauled her tight, little ass right into the bathroom, bent her over a sink, and fucked her long and hard.
But I didn’t fuck trash like a D’Angelou. Not without a damn good reason.
“I ran into her this morning. She’s a little wasp. She’s lucky I didn’t squash her ass."
“Damn. She’s got a set of tits on that banging body though. I heard several guys talking about the new girl. Didn’t think she’d end up being a D’Angelou. What are we going to do about her?” Vincent ran his fingers through his black hair.
Like me, Vincent was Italian. The only difference was, he was b
orn right here in the city whereas I was born in Sicily. I spent the first ten years of my life in Italy before my father decided to take up permanent residence in the Windy City. Now, this was my home.
“Take her out. Just like her old man.” I slammed my locker shut as Levin approached.
“New girl is D’Angelou’s kid.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered.
“He had a run in with the little minx this morning.” Vincent’s dark eyes held that sparkle in them we were used to. Playful and easygoing, he was the one I went to if I needed to lighten the mood. If I wanted to darken the mood, Levin, my American-born German friend was the one I sought.
“She clearly got his dick hard then left him high and dry,” Vincent continued with a smirk.
I shot him a glare. He wasn’t wrong. The moment I’d laid eyes on her I knew I needed to speak to her. Why the fuck did she have to be a D’Angelou?
“If she’s a D’Angelou, she’s trouble.” Levin gave me a nod, his blue eyes narrowed.
With his blond hair and tall, muscular stature, Levin screamed intimidation. While Vincent and I could hold our own, Levin was the muscle. Vincent and I could fight, but we were better with weapons. Levin could kill a man with one hand and jerk off with the other without batting a lash.
“Say the word, and I’ll take the trash out,” Levin said darkly.
I knew he meant he’d kill her and dump her body in a place no one would ever find her.
“Easy, boys. I say we see what the little minx does. She might be fun to play with.” Vincent shot us both a grin.
“Not interested,” Levin said as we started down the hall.
Students scattered away from us. We were the kings of Bolten. They’d be stupid not to move. We came from money. Power. We didn’t rule the place because we were kind. We ruled by fear.
“We’ll wait to see her next move. She’s a D’Angelou, so she’ll have one,” I said, stopping outside my class.
“I heard Ivanov got engaged over break.” Vincent leaned against the wall and lifted a dark brow at me when we reached our destination. “I’m surprised he wants to be tied down to Stella. She’s high-class, but not Ivanov high. She’s more like the bitch you fuck after she cleans your floors.”
“I heard it wasn’t Stella.” Levin locked eyes with me. “It has to be someone with power. You know the Ivanovs don’t do piddly ass shit. Everything has meaning. Whoever they engaged their fucking nightmare off to was a power move, not one made of love.”
I nodded. Levin was right.
“Well, boys, I guess we need to find out who the unlucky girl is,” I said.
“And then?” Vincent prompted.
I shrugged and smiled. “Then we take her from him.”
“I’m not fucking Stella again.” Vincent blanched. “Pussy was loose, and her dick sucking skills were lacking. She practically ate my cock last time, and not in a good way.”
“We’ll fuck who we need to fuck,” I said as Bianca came into my line of sight again.
She cast a few quick glances around as she stared down at her torn schedule, a frown on her plump, pink lips.
Vincent and Levin followed my gaze.
“Damn. That’s the best-looking girl to walk these halls,” Vincent commented. “I don’t care if she is a D’Angelou. I bet her pussy tastes like rainbows and sunshine. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.”
“She’s a little bitch,” I snarled. “And we’ll take her ass down right along with her daddy.”
Levin smirked. “Dibs. I have an idea on how I can make her scream.”
“Your cock?” Vincent chuckled.
Levin glared at Vincent. “I’ll never put my cock inside a D’Angelou. I’d put it in your ass before hers.”
Vincent clapped him on the back. “You know better than to threaten me with a good time, big boy.”
I left the two of them to their banter, my gaze fixed on the prize.
Bianca D’Angelou was in so much trouble.
Five
Bianca
“Do you know Dominic De Santis?”
“What?” I peeked over at the owner of the soft voice.
“Dominic De Santis. I saw you talking to him this morning.” The girl stared back at me with large, luminous, brown eyes, her long dark hair in a high ponytail. She didn’t strike me as another one of the jerks I’d encountered all day so far. Maybe it was the pink flush on her cheeks or the way her hands trembled as she held her plate of food while she stood next to me in the lunch line.
Since I’d only spoken to one person all day aside from her, I knew she was referring to the douche who’d trashed my schedule.
“You mean the jerk with the green eyes and bad attitude?”
“Yeah.”
“I know he’s an asshole, and I don’t plan on ever speaking to him again.” I doled some salad into my bowl before adding some croutons.
“I didn’t think you were friends. I told Lyssa and Emy that.”
I nodded, not really caring who Lyssa and Emy were.
“You’re new here.”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered, grabbing white linen wrapped silverware. How posh and absolutely absurd.
“I’m Aubrey.” She reached her hand out to shake mine.
I took it and gave her a tight smile. If I’d learned anything about the students at Bolten, they were all jerks in one way or another.
“Bianca.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
I grunted in response and turned to survey the sea of tables in the lunchroom. If I had to guess, it was divided into castes, and I’d be nuts to just find a table and sit at it. I caught Hail’s eye from across the room. He smirked at me and lifted his hand, wiggling his finger for me to go over there.
Screw that.
“You can sit with us if you want,” Aubrey called out, nodding her head toward the students.
I snapped my attention away from Hail and stared in the general direction she indicated. It was either her or Hail. The answer was an easy one.
Knowing I didn’t have much of a choice, I followed her through the maze of tables until we got to the center of the room where two other girls were sitting and chatting. I followed Aubrey’s lead and took a seat.
“Lyssa and Emy, this is Bianca.”
“Hi,” Emy greeted me with an easy smile.
Lyssa on the other hand, looked at me like I’d stepped in something smelly and brought it over. She turned her nose up and rolled her dark eyes.
“A charity case, Aubrey? Really?”
“Lyssa, be nice,” Aubrey said with a brittle smile. “She’s new and looked lost.”
“Strays always look that way, honey,” Lyssa simpered, turning to me. “What’s your story, Cinderella? A nobody like you must have gotten in as a charity case. Bolten does it every year. Let in the riff raff on scholarship. You know. The people who can’t afford to pay for it themselves.”
“Wow. You’re a bitch,” I said, getting to my feet and leaving my lunch on the table.
She let out a disbelieving scoff and gaped at Emy and Aubrey. Aubrey smirked at me, and even Emy looked like she was biting back a smile.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. It must be hard to hear when you have your head up your ass.” I covered my mouth in mock surprise. “My bad.”
Lyssa opened and closed her mouth several times, staring at me like I had three heads. I backed away, noticing I’d drawn attention. From a few tables away, Dominic stared at me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips. I glanced at the two guys with him who were just as gorgeous. The blond one had bigger muscles than Dominic. He narrowed his eyes at me, sending a shiver through my body. The other guy with a mop of dark hair on his head peered between me and the girls, no emotion on his face.
Whatever.
I spun on my heel and left the cafeteria, needing to get some air. I hated this place and the people, and I hadn’t even been there a day.
Six
&nb
sp; Bianca
“Hey, Bianca!” a voice called out as I trudged across campus later that evening.
I turned to find the owner, grinning at me as she caught up.
“I’ve been looking for you!” Aubrey said. “I wanted to apologize for how Lyssa was at lunch.”
I waved her off. “I expected nothing less, considering where I am and all.”
Aubrey gave me a sympathetic look. “People here definitely suck. I completely understand.”
“It’s whatever.”
“Well, know that my feelings aren’t what hers are.”
I cast her a sidelong glance. She beamed at me, no indication that she wasn’t genuine on her face.
“Seriously, it’s whatever.” I turned onto Mason Trail and saw my dorm looming in the distance.
“You’re in Collins Hall?”
I grunted in response.
“Me too. I’ve had the same dorm every year I’ve been here.”
I didn’t say anything, opting to continue walking.
“You said you and Dominic aren’t friends. Dominic doesn’t talk to just anyone though. What happened?”
We entered the building, and I got into the elevator with Aubrey beside me.
“I literally ran into him. That’s all.”
“He’s a king.”
I lifted a brow at her. “A what?” I’d forgotten about the mention of kings here.
“A king. There are three here. Dominic De Santis, Vincent Valentino, and Levin Seeley. They rule this campus. Of course, they have their little squad they roll with, the people who want to be on their side.” She cleared her throat. “It’s a turf war, really. The kings fight with the lords all the time.”
“The lords?” I questioned, the desire to snort at how ridiculous it all sounded eating at me.
“Yeah, Hail Ivanov, Tate Riley, Drake Petrov, and Fallon Vasiliev. They have this rivalry going on. I guess their fathers do too. They’re into some dark stuff.” Her cheeks reddened at her words, and she clamped her mouth closed.
