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“He publicly complained about it.” I cringe at the thought of sand being stuck in my pussy for weeks.Ugh.“That sounds like a woman complaining she’s itching because she got crabs.”
“He complained to his guards, and well, the news spread pretty fast. Whoever leaked it is probably dead, but I think Matteo took pride in it since everyone found out he killed 300 junkies that night for trying to get revenge against him.”
“Who’s this Matteo dude again?” I’m not clueless in terms of his name and the power he carries within this district of luxury. I’ve heard the name, again and again, yet no image pops up in my mind. Only an imaginary vision of a powerful businessman who isn’t afraid to spill blood.
Then again, I’m supposed to be some naive girl who just wants to attend this university for the sake of pleasuring my Kings.
“I know it’s not my business,” I add. “But I feel as though it’s important if Mr. Leighton brought his name up during dinner.”
“Domino’s douche father has beef with the fucker because he’s sweeping in and making alliances and deals faster than anyone in this world of chaos and bloodshed,” Zander confesses happily. It’s as though Matteo’s suffering only makes his night just speaking about it. “He’s driving him mad, which makes Domino mad.”
“And… you’re not mad?” I’m trying to follow his mindset with this. “If he’s deemed as a competitor, I would expect you to be scowling and not be so… gleeful.”
I should be walking on eggshells when talking with Zander, but I feel as though, with or without his mask, he wouldn’t turn down having a proper conversation with me.
Especially in an area of his expertise.
“Anyone quaking about the competition proves how unstable their foundation really is,” Zander reveals as he leads me onto a trail of soft grass that’s decorated with various flowers. Despite the slightly chilled night, they’re in perfect bloom. It gives a nice ethereal effect, matched with the starry sky, full moon, and the wondrous lake that is calmly swaying with various signs of life deep below.
“Senior Leighton is pissed because Matteo is young as fuck. Probably the youngest hier to own so much shit. You may not know the deets of our world as Ruthless Kings, but to summarize it, we’re a part of the world where criminals would make bargains with the mafia, then deal with the odds of getting caught by the police or some of the gangs outside of Leighton,” he explains rather calmly.
As if all of this is a normal occurrence in our daily existence.
“Matteo’s empire has only been established for less than five years. That’s considered a baby in comparison to many empires which are passed on by generations.”
“Meaning… he’s ahead of the game,” I mutter while analyzing it in my mind.
“More than just ahead,” Zander praises and even laughs. “The smart fucker is destroying empires left and right. I’m sure some are begging for his mercy and to make them an ally and not a foe. A shame when you think about it because most cocky heads only care about having power for themselves. That’s why making alliances is the hardest to do. Contracts on paper aren’t going to stop one empire from fucking up another. It’s all about assets. Deals. Money. The more you acquire, the more untouchable you are.”
“So, that’s beginning to affect Mr. Leighton,” I conclude. “Which affects Domino because he’s destined to acquire his father’s empire.”
“Don’t know about that,” Zander admits quietly.
“Why do you say that?” I ask. “Domino doesn’t have any siblings.”
“Even if he did, I doubt any of them would get shit from their dearest papa,” Zander admits with a low chuckle.
Coming to a stop, he still holds my hand as we stare out at the serene view before us. I’m not sure how far this is from the mansion, but it’s the least of my worries.
The view is priceless.
“That selfish, huh?” I whisper, almost in awe. The view is bringing me various memories that I haven’t allowed myself to reminisce on.
Really old memories before my world was overshadowed by darkness and pain.
“When you spend years upon years proving to the world that you’re a menace that will do anything to secure their hold on your achievements, would you be okay with just passing it to your child, who doesn’t understand the fundamentals surrounding your sacrifices?” Zander ponders.
I need a second to reply because his answer sounds like a decoy.
“Is that what happened in your case?”
He tilts his head my way, and I return his gaze with my own.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he confesses.
If only I could see his expression now.
“Despite not having a choice, you were able to acknowledge the vast empire in your possession, didn’t you?” I offer. “Doesn’t that prove that you could be well beyond your years and appreciate the energy, effort, and value your family invested in their empire?”
