Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I choked back a laugh.
“You know.” She eyed me. “You’re not what I expected.”
I glanced over at her. “You had expectations? You mean you knew about me before I arrived?”
“Of course,” she simply stated.
“Why?”
“Everyone knows about everyone at the Graves Academy. It’s a small town.”
“It doesn’t explain why you’d know anything about me before I even got here.”
“It does.” She peered straight ahead. “You see, there are two kinds of students who transfer into Graves. Those who are children of someone important or…” Her eyes met mine. “Someone who just became important.”
“And which am I?”
She smirked. “I think you know the answer to that.”
Unwavering, I responded, “I’m not important.”
“No…” She paused. “But you have become interesting.”
“I don’t think that’s any better.”
“It isn’t.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, I couldn’t stifle my laugh. “You really don’t sugarcoat anything, do you?”
“It’s a waste of time.”
We stepped into the building.
“Besides, if people are talking about you, they’re looking at you.”
“And?”
“And when people are looking at you, they stop paying attention to anyone else.”
“That sounds really strategic.”
“It is.”
“So…” I paused again. “What did you hear about me?”
She pretended to think. “You grew up in Peru.”
I nodded.
“You’re stubborn.”
“I’d say determined.” I shook my head. “But whatever. What else?”
“Oh! That your uncle brought you here because he thinks you’ll restore the Belladonna name at the academy.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, pulling out of her grasp. “My father attended this university?”
Deja stopped beside me with a confused expression on her face. “You didn’t know that?”
“No.”
She studied me for a long moment. “You really didn’t know that?”
I shook my head.
In one breath, she exclaimed, “Fuck.” Her eyes darted down the hallway. “I thought…”
“What?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“Deja—”
“No.” She pointed toward a group of girls sitting on the edge of a stone fountain a few feet away from us. “They’ve been waiting all morning to meet you.”
The same four heads turned in perfect synchronization toward me. They were the girls who were by the bar with Deja at the party.
The redhead immediately stood as I tried to gather the surprising news.
How much more does Deja know that I don’t? Does my family? If they know, why didn’t they tell me?
The redhead immediately stood, calling out, “So this is her.”
The other girls smiled.
“The legend herself.” She extended her hand. “I’m Luna.”
I shook it. “Legend?”
“You embarrassed half the Legacy Council the other night.” Luna smiled, big and wide. “My father was furious.” She beamed at me. “I’ve never loved a stranger more.”
I blurted, “Your father?” Thinking she was another Devereaux.
A bit of relief washed over me when she replied, “The dean.”
“Oh…”
Luna looped her arm through mine like Deja just had. “We’ve been waiting all our lives for somebody to knock them off their pedestal.”
One of the other girls leaned closer. “It was the most entertainment we’ve seen in weeks.”
For the first time since arriving in Connecticut, I laughed. It escaped before I could stop it while the knot in my stomach loosened.
Deja nudged me with her shoulder. “Now, rule number one is—”
That got my attention. “There are rules?” I interrupted, remembering the encounter with the makeup artist and hair stylist.
“Don’t speak unless spoken to…”
“More like survival tips.” Luna pointed toward a massive stone building crowned by gargoyles. “Don’t go past that building.”
“Why?”
“No one knows. The Brotherhood uses it.” Luna continued, “Now rule number two. Don’t ask questions about the chapel.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Every girl exchanged a look.
“And rule number three,” Luna went on, shifting her stare to me. “If you ever see the Brotherhood…” She lowered her voice. “Move.”
I had no idea what she was referring to. “The Brotherhood? Who is that?”
Before anyone answered, the hallway ahead changed. Students stopped talking, and those standing in the center naturally drifted to the sides.
Then the doors opened, and more people stepped aside.
“What’s happening?” I whispered to myself.
Again, no one answered. It was when I saw them. A group of guys emerged from the far end of the corridor, walking with the kind of confidence money couldn’t buy. It was all about power, and each one defined a different type of inheritance.
Their black blazers were nowhere to be found. Their ties were loosened. Some weren’t even wearing one. It was the opposite of what I’d already seen the other students wearing, as if the rules didn’t apply to them. They had no books and no backpacks, as education bent around them.
They spread a little. It was then I noticed the guy right in the middle.
Onyx Devereaux.
He was the only one who wasn’t wearing a uniform. Instead, he was dressed in a dark gray hoodie, jeans, and boots. Similar to what he was wearing the other night. The hoodie sat firmly on his head. I could barely see his face. Something told me this was his signature attire, hiding himself from the world and maybe his own family.
His intense stare remained fixated ahead. He didn’t acknowledge any of the students moving aside for them. Not one. He didn’t need to. The way the students treated them didn’t seem respectful. It felt more like obedience.