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I’m still trying to work out what’s happening and if this is some kind of trap when the butler reappears. He’s not old and haggard, but tall, with wide shoulders and slightly overweight. While he looks like just an average guy, there’s also something… off about him.
There’s no expression on his face, no emotion in his eyes, and his movements are almost robotic. If AI had advanced enough to make robots this realistic, I’d think Syn had bought one.
As it is, I’m sure this guy and Syn have the same level of emotional intelligence.
Although he’s looking at me, it feels like he’s looking through me. “This way.”
Like before, he doesn’t wait to see if I’m following, instead, retraces his steps back down the hall.
Even though I’m still struggling to understand, not the what, so much as the why, I follow him. I might not really understand why he took my suitcase, but leaving won’t give me any answers.
The house is large. The last time I was here, I didn’t really pay much attention, but now I can’t help but look around. Apparently, it, along with most of the campus, was built back in mid-1800s. I don’t doubt that’s the original house full of original features, but there’s something about this building which feels more like a museum than a home.
Even if every past Elite president has had a stick up their ass like Syn, it’s still where guys have lived for over 150 years, yet there’s barely a scrape or scuff in the polished wooden floor, and though my footsteps echo down the hall, no floorboard creaks beneath me.
I’ve barely taken in the artwork hanging on the wall—paintings that could be originals and what I’d expect to see in a student’s family home—before the man stops outside of one the many wooden doors we’ve passed and knocks. Although I don’t hear a response, he turns to me. “They are expecting you.”
And then he leaves.
I take a moment to suck in a deep breath, pull my shoulders back, and make sure I can feel my face relax so the only thing anyone sees is confidence. Then I push open the door and walk in.
I’m not sure that even the blind could miss the amount of wealth that oozes from this campus, and I know that if any dorm JKU is going to scream money, it’s going to be Denali House.
The room is long and narrow, with high ceilings edged in detailed covings. The walls are a gray-blue, and large paintings of hunting parties with heavy dark wood frames hang on them. Running down the length is a thin table, with seven chairs on each side, and a chair at each end. It’s the kind of thing that could look really pretty if it had all the China and silverware on it, and maybe there have been a few dinner parties held in here over the years.
But even with Syn, Royal, and Gemini in here, this doesn’t feel like a room that’s used often, much less for dinner parties. Whether this was a house that guys or girls lived in, I’d expect to see personal items—a sweater on the back of a chair or a textbook. Maybe even a forgotten cup on the sideboard. There’s nothing out of place in here except me.
Syn is sitting on the middle chair on the opposite side of the table. His attention is on his hands that are clasped on the table in front of him. Without looking at me, points at the chair directly opposite him.
Suddenly, the room feels hot, despite it only being a few degrees warmer in here than it was in the hallway. I close the door behind me and take my bag off my shoulder. I’ve packed my laptop and all my study materials inside, as well as a few essential items like my phone and charger, so it’s a brief relief to lower it to the floor so I can take my coat off.
Although Gemini, who is closest to me, is leaning back in his chair like he’s just woken up from a nap, he hasn’t taken his dark, brown eyes from mine.
Beside him, stony-faced, with his gaze now trying to burn a hole into the chair opposite like he’s doing everything he can not to look at me, is Syn. From this angle, I can see the way the muscles in his neck tense.
Unless I can find out who really killed his brother, I’m certain there’s nothing I’ll be able to do that will stop Syn from hating me like he does. And honestly, if the roles were reversed, I’d probably feel the same.
I walk over to the chair he pointed to. After hanging my coat over the seat beside it and lowering my bag to the floor, I pull out the chair and sit. I’m almost certain this wooden table is as old as the house, because below the sheet of glass on top, there are thousands of tiny scratches on the surface.
The chair frames look like they’re from the same wood as the table with similar carvings visible on the sides and legs. But the slate-colored leather covering the seat, back, and armrests is new.
The early evening sun is just low enough that it’s shining in through the window behind the three men, making me squint.
If there was a competition for the most handsome student at JKU, Royal Davenport III would not only win, he would somehow get second and third place too. With the light behind him now I could see why. Royal’s hair look almost gold, with softly tanned skin, a strong nose, chiseled jawline and perfect symmetry.
Royal’s wearing a pale gray polo shirt that’s almost the same shade as his eyes—or would be if he were facing the sun. With his arms folded, the muscles in his arms are visible. Despite the crap I see him eat, there’s not an ounce of fat on him—the rest of his body is as muscular as his arms.
I doubt there are many people on this campus who wouldn’t love to have him stare intently at them, but right now, I’d rather he focused his eyes anywhere else. There’s such an intensity in them that I can’t decide if he wants to throw me out of the room or onto this table so he can fuck me while Syn and Gemini watch.
As far as chairs go, the one I’m sitting on is relatively comfortable. However, last night’s activities, specifically Gemini’s cock being buried deep into my ass, has left a lingering soreness that painkillers have only barely taken the edge off so I move to get more comfortable. However, the movement is enough draw Syn’s attention to me.
He drops his gaze to my throat, a smile growing on his face as he stares at the collar around my neck, then he drags his gaze back to my face. “I’m not sure if I’m more surprised to see you here, or at the speed you’re moving after how you left last night.
“You might want to reevaluate your performance then. I’ve had better.” I shrug.
The lie rolls off my tongue, but the truth is something that I’ll never admit to him.
Syn gives Royal the side eye, which I don’t miss, before turning to me. “Are you sure you can even remember all the people you’ve spread your legs for?”
