17
BLAZE
PandoraPavone.
The name keeps repeating in my mind, over and over, followed by waves of anger and humiliation.
She’s been playing me this entire time.
“Giulio Pavone is fucking scary.”
My hands clench and unclench. Even the satisfaction of a good fuck—and I can’t deny how hot it had been, to have her impaled between me and River, mewling andtakingit—can’t wash away the betrayal.
No wonder I’d seen fire in her eyes. She isn’t a meek, spoiled princess. She’s the heir to the largest crime family in the northeast.
Zayden and the other pledges, the ones who’d managed to grab a Nyxie girl, are already inside the frat house. The party is in full swing, with everybody cheering their successes and congratulating the pledges for making it through hell week.
I’m not in the mood to celebrate.
I storm through the building. I spot Asch over by Franklin, but I ignore his questioning look and go up to my bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind me.
It’s 3 a.m., and I should go to bed and sleep it all off, but the knowledge that I’ve been fuckingPandora Pavonecircles in on me. This is important. This means something.
I call my father. There’s only a one-hour time difference with New Valence, and I’m sure he’s still awake. He’s always been a night owl, to my mother’s chagrin. She’s the early bird who wants all the worms.
It only takes a few rings for my father to pick up.
“What is it?” he asks mildly.
“There’s a situation. I wanted to see how you want me to proceed,” I say cautiously. No small talk, no greetings. My father doesn’t want his time wasted. “Giulio Pavone’s daughter is sniffing around the fraternity.”
I don’t mention that I’ve slept with her.
I don’t mention that she had me fooled.
I don’t mention that I’ve been fantasizing about her since that day in the tunnels, that I want to make her scream and cry out and beg for me.
There’s a pause before my father answers, “Pavone? Why did he send his daughter to Dyschord? It’s not his alma mater.”
“I think she’s spying for him,” I admit quietly. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”
“Hmm,” my father says, and I hate that sound, the one that means he’s already made a judgment but I’m not allowed to know what it is. “I haven’t heard of Pavone attempting to move south, but it would be a problem if he did.”
Despite the many years Giulio Pavone has lain low, people still repeat the same rumors about him. He took out an entire rival family for a single insult. He murdered his own father. He will destroy anyone who crosses him.
They’re ridiculous, of course, but my father has a healthy professional respect for Pavone and it’s one of the reasons we’ve kept our business discreet up north.
“Do you want me to… that is. Pandora’s pretty. She could be…” I stop myself from finishing the sentence.
She’d be good product.
I’m sure there are enough clients who would want a woman like Pandora.
She’s mine, I think viciously, and I don’t know where that sentiment came from. I don’t care about women. They’re boring and tedious, good only for a fuck and to keep Asch happy.
But Pandora is wild and unpredictable, and she humiliated me.
Nobody else should get to destroy her.
