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Is she stupid? I’ve killed guys for less. I level her with a hard look.
“Books.”
“Funny.”
“My degree’s in business management.” I sigh. Here we go...
“Oh, where from?”
“Knox Academy.” The fucking school of the bastard devil. It stole my soul in exchange for a tuition I never even asked for.
“I’ve never heard of it.”She pulls a face.
“You wouldn’t have.” Nice girl like her at a school for people like me? Ha. As if. Amelie barely fits in. She thinks she’s so badass but she didn’t even kill that guy. She’s too kind, her heart’s too big, she’s taking the rap for that twat back home. Wouldn’t mind spilling a little of his blood.
Actually though, looking more closely at the girl in front of me, I can see she has something about her. There’s mettle there. Knox would eat her alive, sure, but she’s clearly not some society bimbo like I first assumed.
“Ooooh is it like some super-secret posh school for the rich? Or is it a spy school?”
“Something like that,” I evade.
“Let me guess; you’re going to manage a business with that degree?”
“Wow, you’re so clever I can’t believe you’ve not graduated early…” I drawl back sarcastically. She’s touched a nerve. “Yes I’m going to run businesses, my grandfather’s for one.”
If I live that long. I’m still not sure how to get out of The Order. When Grandfather first collected me and word got back that I was ‘missing’, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to disappear, but my damn curiosity got the better of me and I called Frost. He has to be the reason Amelie found me, and if she knows I’m alive, the Knox brothers will know I’m alive, and so will The Order.
Which means I’m dead.
“Well, that’s stupid,” she says, pulling a face.
“Why?” I scowl.
“Because what idiot would be stupid enough to hand over the reins of their company to a kid fresh out of school with no practical business experience?” My jaw hangs in shock. I’m so astonished by the brazen way she speaks her mind, that I’m half tempted to spill my secrets just to shut her up. She wants experience? If only she knew what I’ve done.
“Why does a piece of paper that says you read a few books and wrote a few essays make you more qualified to run an actual business than say, people who have decades of experience?”
She swallows nervously at the look I give her – like I’d love nothing more than to cause her pain and fuck her senseless right now. I quickly try to school my expression, but I know she catches it because her eyes harden in defiance.
“Interesting idea,” is all I say, too enraged to say more. She’s so close to being bent over the table and taught to hold her goddamn tongue.
Once again, the doors open, and the next course is served. I have a pretty good idea what’s coming and sure enough, the chef doesn’t disappoint. She looks down at her plate, lip already curling in a disapproving sneer when she blinks in shock.
Our plates are both full to the brim with steak and chips. I can practically see her mouth watering as the server passes her a steak knife.
“Now this is more like it!” she exclaims, digging straight in, excited.
“Glad you’re happy.”
“Please tell me this is it instead of another ten courses?”
“Nine. You have ice cream for dessert.” I grin. Her happiness is infectious.
“Awesome!”
“Do you really love steak and ice cream that much, or do you just want out of here quicker?”
“A little of one, a lot of the other.”
