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I know because our notification tones are a replicated melody. The only difference is mine is in major, and his is in eerie minor.
Opposites and yet complement each other like sinful harmonies.
“If we’re both getting a message, that means it’s Father,” I grumble and swiftly unstrap the dark ruby-red gloves on my fists. Anyone who knows a hint about me would realize dark red is my favorite color.
The shade of blood.
So dark yet vivid to the world.
Truthfully, it compliments my pale skin, silver locks, and smoky teal eyes.
Also makes me unapproachable with my resting bitch face.
Pulling out my phone, I further frown at the simple message, knowing that those two words confirm my newfound purpose.
FATHER:
“My office.”
“The time has arrived.”I try to sound excited, but there’s no way of hiding my dread.
I knew this was coming.
I’d been warned by the whispers haunting Father’s study and the various halls of the mansion.
This was why I was taken in.
The true purpose of a wasteful orphan.
A look at Warren confirms the usual.
Lifeless eyes.
“Do you ever smile?” I don’t know why, after being watched by this man from five years of age to nineteen, I still think he’ll answer my random yet ‘intrusive’ questions.
Today is not that day.
With his silence, I can only roll my eyes and slide my phone back into my pocket.
“The university has been chosen, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I’m pleased that he answered this inquiry.
“Let me guess. Ásvaldr Prescott University? No. How about Saint Joaquin University?” I’m guessing the most dangerous, lethal, chaotic higher education institutes I’ve heard of. “Better yet, what about?—”
“Leighton Royals University.”
My heart stills.
Skips.
Races like a fucking bullet train.
Warren watches me like a hawk, and I’m sure with his heightened sense of hearing, the man can enjoy the crescendo of my heartbeat.
“Fuck.” That’s all I can say because nothing can prepare me for the institution that holds memories I’d like to never return to.
