“On top of that short list is the subject of Kinsley West.”
There it is. The second after her name falls casually from his dry lips, he sips the brandy. He somehow knows she attends Monarch. I can only guess he’s had one of his henchmen trailing her since he set his sights on her. It also helps to have the chancellor as one of your high betters.
“What about her?” I cross my arms over my chest. It’s a defensive position, and I know he notices, but I don’t care.
“Don’t fuck with me, boy.” He slams the glass of brandy down. The dark liquid sloshes onto the mahogany table.
His heated warnings are nothing new. Fortunately, they haven’t been backed with a punch or some other painful contact for the past couple of years. Maybe he finally realized I can easilykick his ass—kill him even. He should know. He’s the one who made me into who I am.
If I don’t give him something, he’ll plan to make moves of his own without me. So, if I can keep her somewhat secluded from his plans—as safe as I can—I need to stay involved for now. “She’s still training at the dojo almost every day. She looks stronger and more in touch with her skills than ever.”
He nods with approval. His slick smile disappears behind the cigar as he brings it to his mouth. “Excellent.”
I turn to leave.
“Have you fucked her yet? Gotten her to trust you? In case you forgot, that’s still our plan.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. How the fuck do you forget something like that?That’s all I’ve thought about since the second she took off that damn helmet when she stole my parking spot. But I don’t want to be with her to use her the way he expects. I’ve come to need her in ways I never dreamed of. I want her for myself.
Besides, little does he know that getting Ninja to cave isn’t an easy job. She’s not like other girls who drop to their knees at the snap of my fingers. And caging her is the last thing I want to do. Nor do I want her to give in or submit. Where would the fun be in that?
I turn back around to face him. “No, I haven’t forgotten. Nin— Kinsley.” I catch myself before I reveal her nickname. “She keeps to herself and pushes away anyone who tries to get close.”
He takes another sip, then sets the tumbler roughly onto the table. “Oh, come on, son. Getting a bitch on her back doesn’t require trust. It’s about the plays in the game, the manipulation, and empty promises. Most women will believe anything if you wave something flashy and expensive in their face.”
Knowing my mother is in the next room, entertaining our guests as her husband talks about women as if they’re nothingbut a way to get off and do your bidding, fucking kills me. He’s a piece of shit who wants nothing more than for me to hone my skills at fighting, make him richer than he already is, and be exactly like him—a greedy bastard. He’ll only see one of those things happen. And honing my fighting skills won’t be for him.
He raises his glass into the air. “You need to make her yours. Play with her, fuck her, buy her fucking flowers for all I care, whatever it takes. After you’ve had your fill, I’ll gladly take her off your hands. Just make sure you don’t break her too badly because that’s when the real fun begins. That’s when it’s my turn to play.”
The sick grin spreading over his lips is enough to make the few appetizers I ate roil in my stomach. I want to pick him up by his collar and slam his weak body into the glass shelves behind him, over and over, until he doesn’t even remember who I am. Tensing to the point of nearly shattering, I force my muscles to relax. If he glimpses any weakness I have for her, my little Ninja is as good as?—
The old man continues. “She walked right into our hands. Who knew she would transfer to Monarch? It’s a fucking blessing. It’s all coming together. And now that her father is out of the way, that girl and her fighting skills can lead the path right to Venom’s very lucrative future.” His greedy, repulsing smile flashes as he brings his glass to his lips again.
Just before her father’s death, I learned that Ninja was always the end goal. It was never about her dad. His death was just a way to get him out of the way of Venom’s real prize. But as long as I’m alive, I’ll never hand the girl I’m falling hard for over to the devil himself. I may have started as a player in his depraved game, but things have changed. And he doesn’t need to know that right now. So, there’s nothing else for me to do but nod.
My hand is on the door handle when he says, “We have less than three months. Don’t fuck it up.”
I close the door behind me without responding.
As soon as I walk out of my father’s study, still reeling from our little father-son chat, Brielle loops her arm through mine. “Hey, baby, I’ve been looking for you.”
I slide her arm out from mine. “Not now, Brielle.”
Her lips turn down as my mom saves the day. “Oh, Ledger, there you are.”
My mom, the good woman she is, places herself between me and Brielle. Brielle’s mom comes up behind her. My mom kisses me on the cheek. Unlike my dad, her touch is gentle and loving. The only reason I don’t pack her bags and send her off to a place he could never find her is that she’s very capable of taking care of herself. She knows exactly the kind of asshole my father has become. I’ve watched her closely over the past several years, and I have nothing to worry about regarding my mother. Thank fuck for that.
My and Brielle’s parents have been friends for as long as I can remember. It’s mostly been business between our fathers, but my mom has been a good sport at entertaining his wife.
Mrs. Young says, “I haven’t seen you and Brielle together lately.” She rests her hand on top of my forearm and squeezes. She makes an effort to contort her Botox-filled face into a sad smile. But the gesture fails when her lips can’t quite make the frown. She doesn’t need to know that Brielle and I were never an actual couple. Her daughter let me use her for sex while she used me to get off and boost her popularity status.
Brielle starts to speak, no doubt to begin spewing nonsense, but I interject, “With school and other extracurricular activities, I haven’t had much free time.”
Flames dance in Brielle’s eyes. She knows precisely what—or rather who—my extracurricular activities involve. Mrs. Young’s already pouty lips protrude grotesquely.
Brielle goes to argue, but my mom cuts her off. “My boy has been as busy as ever.” She picks up a fork from the tray of a passing server, clinks it against her wineglass, and announces that the first course of dinner is ready to be served. With grace, she smiles and guides our company into the dining room. She tucks her arm through mine. Lowering her voice, she says, “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I had no idea, or I would have never put you in that position.”
“It’s fine.”
