Page 39 of The Brat: Prequel

Shay: And here was me thinking you were asking for MY help

Victoria:

Shay: Well?

Victoria: Ask her about the Veronians

Two minutes later

Shay: They’re a secret society running out of Oakwood College.

Shay: Students are typically invited to pledge in their sophomore year (but that’s conjecture. No one really knows their process)

Shay: She says they’re perverted capitalist monsters and that the president is one too

Shay: Apparently, we’re only allowed decent presidents every alternate election cycle

Shay: She wants to know why you’re asking

Victoria: Tell her I think one approached me tonight

Shay: She started swearing and cussing out Uncle Aidan for not taking her with him (I don’t know where?)

Shay: I’d expect from her outburst that he’ll be waiting at Aunty Camille’s to speak with you

Victoria: He’ll have a long wait. I’ll go to Inessa’s for shits and giggles

Shay:

SEVENTEEN

THE FILTHY KING THINKS HE CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO? HA.

When a different car picks us up than the one that dropped off Conor and Star, I realize that Aidan’s here.

Which means this is a conversation that can’t wait until we’re home.

Weird.

“Victoria,” he greets from the shadows of his limo.

“Uncle Aidan,” I say primly, surprised to find that Conor and Star don’t get into the car with us. Instead, as the door closes, I notice them through the rear window, where they’re slouching over to the vehicle idling behind us.

“Conor told me that you spoke with Kirkland tonight? What did he have to say?”

I study his expression, annoyed that it’s half in the light and half in the dark. “Who are the Veronians?”

“Don’t make out like you don’t already know, Vicky. Savannah blasted me in a voice note for keeping her from the fun.”

I pout but rather than BS him, I spill the details. Everything from what Creepy Ciaran said to what his father implied.

He only clucks his tongue when I bring up that ‘legal’ stuff, but I notice the way his hand balls into a fist before he stretches his fingers out and drums them on the cushion next to him.

“They’re scouting you. The question is why. Your grades are good but you’re nothing special⁠—”

“Gee! Thanks!” I grouse.

“Victoria, to come to the attention of this group of people, there has to be⁠—”