Page 183 of The Unravelings

“So, do you have something to tell me?” JJ murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “How about we have a seat and hear him out?”

“Fuck me,” JJ mutters, not changing his grip on me.

“Oh, goody! Should I break out some champagne for the occasion?” Malic quips happily, clapping his hands again. “Because this is going to be a very fruitful conversation.”

50

JJ

“Pancakes will really take the sting away, Enemy Number Three,” Malic gleefully says, thrusting a large plate of pancakes in front of me with a knowing grin.

Maybe I shouldn’t eat these, considering we’ve been sworn enemies since the moment Franco took over this college and invited Shadow’s heirs to reside here. An angle I’ve never quite understood, considering we aren’t fully aware of who Shadow is. It’s like inviting an invisible enemy into your castle and letting them view everything you have up your sleeve. Obviously, Franco knows something we don’t quite know. What that is, I have no fucking idea. But I’d love to know who is in charge of Wilder and Malic.

Maybe I can use this to my advantage.

Malic may be a maniac in the fighting ring, but every time he looks at Olivia, he melts into her words. No matter if steam is flying out of her ears and her eyes could saw through his flesh with one look. She has some sort of hold over him that I don’t think she’s aware of.

Hell, I don’t think he’s aware of it either.

There’s something here. Something I can work with. Even if I’d rather toss Olivia over my shoulder, run through the front door, and lock her in my bedroom for eternity. He’s using her for blackmail. I can use him in the same capacity.

“Seriously, Enemy Number Three, you’ll love them. Wilder may not look like it, but he’s an amazing cook.” He pats Wilder’s shoulder roughly three times, jostling him in his seat.

But it does nothing to bring Wilder out of the stupor he’s been in since I walked through the door. Although I don’t blame him. He’s discovered the biggest secret he’s ever come across.

I was the same when I realized the love of my life was still alive and had hidden herself so cleverly from me.

Wilder sits in the chair across from me with a bewildered look on his face. Pale. Shell-shocked. Hollow. Whatever you want to call it, he looks like he saw a ghost rise from the dead right before his eyes. I guess in his eyes, he did. Everyone in this town knows Olivia and her family are dead. Their graves aren’t too far from here. Now, three people know her secret. Me. And the enemies of Franco.

This complicates everything.

Especially Olivia’s safety.

The more people who find out about her still breathing, the more her life is at risk. The Viottos could come to collect their missing heir and force her into a life she hated. Franco could catch wind of her existence and end her, too. Her cockroach of a father could crawl out of whatever hole he’s been hiding in for years and take her away from me. If he’s still alive, that is.

Any option is a death sentence.

A death sentence I don’t want to subject her to. Not again. She’s alive, and I’ll bend over backward to keep her that way.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’s here. Even if I’ve known longer than anyone in this room. Her funeral feels fresh in my mind. The grief, sorrow, and pain from losing her. Now, it’s voided by the breaths she takes every day. I’ve been trying my damnedest to keep her safe while keeping her burning secret. Now, more than ever, it’s pertinent that her identity stays under wraps. Especially with so many dangerous people on campus and all the criminal heirs occupying the houses on Syndicate Row.

If they knew she was here, they’d put her head on a spike. Fuck. My anxiety soars through my veins at the ever-present danger around every corner.

“So, now that we’ve all come to a fun understanding…” Malic trails off with another grin as he grabs a fork.

“Blackmail,” Olivia hisses. “You’re blackmailing me into participating in this conversation.”

I don’t say anything when Malic’s brows raise and softness sparks in his eyes when he looks at her. Every muscle in his body deflates, and he seems so unlike himself. Definitely not the man who parades around campus with fire in his eyes, scaring the fuck out of everyone. My gaze pivots between the three of them, taking in their strange dynamic. Honestly, they’d be a psychologist’s dream to study.

“Blackmail, shmlackmail,” Malic says through a full mouth of pancakes as syrup drips from between his lips and onto his day-old stubble lining his jaw. “I’m not the first one to do it?” His gaze flicks to me, and he grins more while openly chewing his pancakes. “Am I?” He chuckles when my brows rise, practically acknowledging that I had to blackmail her, too. But it was a necessity. She was avoiding me at every turn and skipping class.

Fuck.

Am I as bad as Malic Monroe? The fucking maniac of campus? Also, how the hell did he find that out?

“Fuck you, Malic,” Olivia hisses again.