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Brock’s lips curl into a sneer. "Go get fucked by a clown with a one-inch cock, Trace."
That’s a great insult.
I make a mental note to incorporate that into my vocabulary.
Rook pushes out a snarl. "Quit bullying Olivia before I drown you in the bobbing for apples booth."
Trace cocks her head to the side as she glances at my purse lying at my feet. "I’m impressed that you finally bought a Birkin. Unfortunately, it’s a Canal Street knockoff. The stitching is busted as hell even from this angle. You can fool a lot of these bitches on campus, but not me."
"I bought this from the Hermès store on Fifth Avenue." I narrow my eyes.
"You only can afford it because your sugar Daddies are still holding out to take your virginity. That’s their MO. The second they fuck your disgusting pussy, they’ll dropkick you out of that ugly pink helicopter you ride every morning and sell all your bags on AliExpress. You’re such a virgin that you probably have a librarian pussy. No one wants to fuck you because you remind them of a dusty ass old ass book no one even reads. You’re a disgusting ugly bitch and if my eyes serve me right, you’ve gained weight. In your ass. You’re a fat bitch too. Fatass. Ugly ass virgin ho. You’re not that fucking smart if you think the Kings of the Sinners really want you, Little Miss Scholarship Student."
Brock and Rook roar at the same time. Slinging me over his shoulders, Rook marches toward Trace and punches her straight in the face.
She screams as she flies backward, her ass smacking into the funnel cake booth. "You hit a girl!"
"No." I leap off Rook’s shoulder. My feet carry me to Trace’s side before I can stop them. I stare down at her with fierce embers in my eyes. "I did this to you, slut. If anyone asks, tell them it was me. Otherwise, I’ll tell everyone that your father is into prostitutes. Kinky ones. Ones that piss on him as he rubs it on his cock. Saintswood will fire him before you can blink your fake eyelashes, bitch."
I punch Trace in the fucking jaw, hearing a satisfyingcrack.She squeals, blood spurting in the air, before scampering off. "My father will expel all of you."
Rook hugs me. "Thanks for hitting her too. Now, I won’t go back to prison."
I nod. "If anyone asks, I’ll say that I inflicted all that damage."
Brock crushes his lips to mine. "You’re truly our Queen."
That’s a Queen’s job. To take the fall for her Kings.
Time stops as I lose myself in Brock’s arms. He swirls his tongue around my mouth, laying claim to me like no one ever has. I think about my father and the way he didn’t protect me after my mother died. I think about how shitty Nate made me feel.
Brock’s kiss is a healing balm spread across the wounds of my past. It’s magical and healing, filled with power.
Rook massages my ass with his left hand. My entire ass fits in his palm. "Don’t listen to anything Trace says. You’re perfect."
My body.
My mind.
My soul.
My Kings build me up unlike Trace. They’re rough with me because they know it’ll make me stronger. What doesn’t kill you always transforms you into the boss bitch you were meant to be.
Trace is cruel to me to belittle me. She’s jealous of the men I have in my life. She’s probably also jealous of all the nice things my Kings have bought me.
All of Saintswood is staring as Brock and Rook kiss me. Jealous boys gape with their mouths open, their dicks poking out of their gray sweatpants as they can’t help but be turned on. Girls glare at me with hatred in their eyes, ready to slash me to bits.
Their jealousy comes from the fact that their pussies are on fire for my Kings and they can’t fuck them.
Only I hold that power.
Only I possess the Queen’s crown.
"Eat shit, jealous bitches." Brock flips everyone off as he cups the back of my head. "I was a playboy in the past, but Olivia has turned me into a new man."
Rook rubs his monstrous cock on my ass. "I can feel my soul beginning to turn to light. I want to open up to you soon, Olive. Let you know what happened to me that sent me to juvie. What my crack whore mother did to me."
A shadow falls across us.
